Page 70 of Maverick

23

CADENCE

"I've heard so much about this place. I can't wait!"

Maverick grins and pulls open the door toA Little Like Home. I would want to come here anyway, since it's cute, and judging by how busy it is, the food is great. The fact that it's John's restaurant is just icing on the cake.

"It's damned good food. I'm surprised you picked this place, but I'm not mad about it."

"What, you thought I might pick some fancy restaurant with four forks and twenty courses." I stop just inside the doorway. "Is twenty courses a thing? It sounds exhausting. And really, who needs more than one fork?"

He grins at me, and something low in my stomach clenches. I am so glad I got over myself and agreed to this date. I am not a masochist. I love men. So why did I fight this so hard?

Because you're feeling shit you've never felt dumbass. You're running scared.

I slide into the booth across from Maverick, my eyes drawn to the chalkboard menu on the wall. The restaurant bustles with energy, servers weaving between tables and the clatter of dishes echoing from the kitchen.

"John likes to change things up," Maverick explains, gesturing to the menu. "Keeps it fresh, you know? So the menu is different every day, depending on what he's in the mood to cook."

Our server approaches, a young woman with a bright smile. She runs through the specials, everything sounding so frickin’ amazing it takes forever for me to decide. Finally, we place our orders, and as she walks away. I lean back in my seat, taking in Maverick's appearance.

He's dressed to the nines in a tailored suit that hugs his broad shoulders. It's a far cry from the casual attire I'm used to seeing him in at the rescue. His eyes meet mine, and I catch him sneaking glances at my cleavage and legs, barely concealed by the hem of my dress.

I cross my legs, wishing I had more experience with stilettos. I'd love to see his reaction to a higher heel, but I know I'd never pull it off. I'm the kind of girl who would topple over in anything more than a sensible pump.

"What's on your mind?" Maverick asks, his voice pulling me from my thoughts.

I laugh, shaking my head. "Honestly? I was thinking about how I'd probably fall off a pair of high heels."

His eyebrows raise, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh, there's got to be a story there."

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. "Prom night," I begin, the memory flooding back. "I convinced myself that I could handle these ridiculous heels, thinking they'd make me look more sophisticated. I didn't go for the four inches. Nope. Six. I wore flip flops or running shoes my entire life, but somehow figured it would be fine. I didn't practice in them or anything."

Maverick leans in, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh fuck.”

"Oh fuck is right. I spent half the night clinging to my date, terrified I'd faceplant on the dance floor. Every step was an adventure." I laugh, shaking my head. "I fell three times in the first hour. Then I ditched them in the corner of the gym and spent the rest of the night barefoot."

Maverick chuckles, his deep laugh sending a shiver down my spine. "Why did you wear them then?"

"Because all the other girls were wearing them, and I wanted to fit in. It's not like I was bullied or anything, but I was the kid who rushed home every day to check on her raccoon. Or baby ducks. Or squirrel. I was a little eccentric."Still am.Though I'm good with it now. Being me is a hell of a lot easier than trying to fit in. And at this point in my life, easy is really attractive.

His gaze softens. "High school is hard on everybody, I think."

"Even you? I can't picture you being anything other than the popular kid." He just has this air about him, like he knows exactly how cool he is. Even laying on the stage in a dance club, he seemed like he wasn't worried about anything.

Of course, that might have been the booze.

He shakes his head. "I was not the popular kid. At all. I wasn't actually at school most of the time."

"And yet you're a lawyer, so you obviously figured it out. What happened?"

He idly twists his water glass. "When we came together as a family, it was kind of a loose thing, at least at the beginning. We didn't have a lot of say over much that happened to us at the facility, but at least we had each other, you know? But none of us were rule followers or much into being told what to do, so we butted heads with the staff. Ransom managed to keep us all together in there for a few years. And we all went to school, because we had to."

A crease appears between his brows. "School is a hard place when you're different. None of us had parents. We were livingat a fucking group home, so we had a big target on our back. All of us. So when Ransom turned eighteen, he got the fuck out of there. He went straight to hustling, and before we even knew it, he had the deed to a garage. One by one, we left the group home and joined him."

"How does that work though? A bunch of minor kids living with someone not much older than they are?"

"People didn't really care.” He shakes his head, looking a little jaded. “That's the truth of it. There are so many kids in the system, that as long as we weren't out getting arrested, they mostly left us alone. As business got better and Ransom could officially provide for us, he became our legal guardian, one by one. Looking back at it, I'm not entirely sure how he managed it, but he did. He wouldn't let anyone separate us."

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