Page 68 of Maverick

I feel my cheeks heat up, and I look down at my hands. "It's complicated," I mumble, unsure how to put my feelings into words.

Ransom leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "The best things are, Cadence."

I sigh, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "I'm attracted to him, more than I've ever been attracted to anyone. But I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt, of losing everything Nan and I have built here. I don't want to risk it all for something that might not work out."

Ransom nods, his expression understanding. "I get that. I do. But you and Nan will have a place here, no matter what. I would never let either of you leave here unless it's to a safe, beautiful home."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. I've spent so long being strong, being the one to take care of everything, that the idea of someone else looking out for me is almost too much to bear.

"We're not your responsibility," I whisper.

"Maybe not. But my brother is a fucking goner over you, and he sure as fuck won't stand for you being anything but happy and healthy. So I care too. That's just the way it is. You're welcome to fight it, but it won't change a fucking thing. You're ours now, and we take care of ours." He says it so casually, like taking care of Nan and me is a given.

I kinda love it. Maybe I should be fighting it, trying to stay this independent woman, but I don't want to. It loosens the little ball of worry that's lived in my chest since Pops died. If something ever happened to me, these men, these truly good and kind men, would take care of her. I know it for sure.

Sniffing, I stare at the kitchen, registering the suspiciously empty cooling rack. There had to have been two dozen cookies on there. Where the…nevermind. Maverick has a stack of at least six in his hand. He brings his hand up, opens wide, and takes a bite of all six at once. Nan's forearms are braced on the counter, head bowed, shoulders shaking with laughter.

She never would have tolerated that shit from me when I was a kid. Now? I'm thrilled she's enjoying every bit of this. She's thriving with all these 'young ones' around.

“Yeah. That’s about right,” Ransom mutters, grinning at the scene. Expression turning serious, he reaches out, cupping my shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring. "Strength isn't about never needing help, Cadence. It's about knowing when to ask for it, and being brave enough to accept it when it's offered. And don't let fear hold you back from something that could be amazing."

"You're not the first to say it," I mutter. "I've gotten a lot of advice lately, most of it pretty similar to yours."

He nods sagely. "But mine was the best, right?"

22

MAVERICK

Igroan as I roll over in bed, my stomach uncomfortably full from the excess of cookies and pizza I consumed earlier. What the hell was I thinking? I know better than to overindulge like this. The cookies were so damned good, of course I ate more than I should. And it wasn't my idea to order the pizza. That was all Ransom's fault.

Everything was too good tonight. The food, yeah, but also the company. I've never made cookies with a grandma before, and I have really been missing out. People lose their patience with us all the time. As a group, we're a lot. Hell, one on one, we're a lot. But Nan didn't get frustrated. Every time we spilled something, or got in a fight, she just laughed, and helped us settle down. I've never had that.

So yeah, I have feelings for Cadence, but I'm falling in love with her Nan too, but not in weird cougar love kind of way. Just…I want her to be my grandma too. I want both of them.

My stomach twists again, making me groan. I need to find something to settle my stomach. Gingerly, I climb out of bed, wearing only my athletic shorts. Another new addition sincethe women moved in. No more bare ass-ing it, or wearing underwear to bed. More coverage is better.

In the kitchen, I start opening cupboards, searching for anything that might provide relief. I know I had some antacids around here somewhere. With the way we eat, it was a necessity. But my cupboards were a hell of a lot emptier a month ago. Now, they're so full I don't even recognize half the stuff in them. Not that I'm complaining. I actually like them full. Full cupboards and a full fridge meets a need I didn't even know I had. Plus, I love the company.

But I really need those antacids.

A soft sound behind me makes me turn. Cadence stands there in a long sleep shirt, her curvy legs bare beneath the hem. Her hair is sleep-tousled, her eyes soft in the dim light.

"Hey," she whispers, her voice husky with sleep. "You okay?"

I nod, not trusting my voice. She's been looking at me with these soft eyes all night, and I don't think I can handle much more of it. I'm too weak, too close to the edge.

She moves closer, her bare feet silent on the tile floor. "What do you need?"

"Stomach," I manage to grunt, and she smiles, a little laughter in her eyes. She knows damn well why my stomach hurts. Together, we search the cupboards until she holds up a bottle with a little cry of success.

I take it from her, and take a handful. The relief is almost immediate, but now I have another problem. Keeping my mouth clamped shut, I eye my bedroom door, but Cadence's laughter draws my eyes right back to her.

"Just let it out, man. It's okay. I've seen you slide head first down a stripper pole in your underwear."

"Aw fuck," I mutter, having conveniently blocked that shit out. "I'm s—" And there it is. The mother fucking monster of allburps. I cover my mouth, I'm not a complete savage, but it's still loud as fuck.

Bubbling laughter spilling from her lips, Cadence drops her head to my shoulder. My bare shoulder.

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