"I don't know honey. From what I can tell, your patience could use a little work. Are there any other, more patient instructors to learn from?"
Becca's mouth drops open, then she throws back her head, laughing. "You are so mean." Her face flattens, turning a bit scary. "I like it." She is so weird.
I like it.
Nan's expression turns sweet. "So, Becca, tell me more about this class. When is it? What should we wear?"
I hold up my hands defensively as Nan's gaze swings to me. "We?"
"Of course, dear. Every woman needs to know how to protect herself."
Becca beams, launching into an explanation of her class schedule and what to expect. Nan nods along, asking questions with genuine interest. And I just stare at them, really confused. Protect myself? Like all the weapons training, martial arts and Krav Maga Grandpa put us through isn't enough? She knows damn well I can protect myself. Growing up with a cop means paranoia, and training. Lucky for Grandpa, I enjoyed every minute of it.
"Well, we'd love to come," Nan says finally. "I'll make sure to drag Cadence along too."
Becca's face lights up. "Awesome! I'll see you both there." She stands, dumping the tangled mess of yarn on the coffee table. "Ishould head out. Thanks for trying to teach me, Nan, but I think I'll stick to punching things."
"Sounds good, honey. It's okay to stay in your lane."
As the door closes behind Becca, I turn to Nan, eyebrow raised. "Okay, spill. Why are we really going?"
Nan shrugs, a small smile playing on her lips. "Because Becca's a nice young woman, if a little strange. It would be nice to spend more time with her."
I snort. "But we don't need a self-defense class. We're way beyond that. Gramps made sure of it."
"She doesn't need to know that," Nan says, patting my knee. "It's okay to just let her feel helpful."
"Whatever, Nan," I say, my mind already shifting to tonight. "I'm going to shower and get ready for my date. What are you up to tonight?"
"Nick is playing matchmaker. He's got some lady in the building that he wants me to meet. Apparently, she has great cookies and he thinks we should be friends. I figured, what the hell. I like meeting new people, and while I love hanging around all you young ones, you're all a lot of work. It might be nice to have a friend who can just sit in fucking peace once in a while."
I'd worry she's actually overwhelmed by it all, but other than some grumbling, she's been glowing. "Hopefully your old lady date goes well."
Nan snorts and busies herself putting away her crochet supplies. "Get on with you. Wear something that'll knock his socks off."
I smoothdown the front of my dress, my fingers trailing over the soft, crimson fabric. The neckline dips low, accentuating my curves in a way that makes me feel both daring and a little self-conscious. I look hot, that's for damn sure, but I'm going to haveto remember not to bend forward, or Maverick's going to get an eyeful of the girls, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that step in our relationship.
The soft knock at my bedroom door startles me. I swing the door open, finding Maverick in a suit, looking so good my breath catches. It's not his usual business attire; this one's different. Still hot, but different. The fabric on this one is a deep, rich black with a subtle sheen that catches the light. It looks impossibly soft, and I find myself wanting to reach out and touch it.
Maverick's eyes widen as he takes me in, and for a moment, he seems to forget how to speak. His mouth opens and closes a few times, and I can't help but feel a little thrill at rendering him speechless.
"You... I... Wow," he finally manages, then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, his gaze is intense, filled with admiration that makes my skin tingle. "Cadence, you look absolutely stunning."
I feel a blush creeping up my neck, but I manage a smile. "Thank you," I say softly, reaching out to touch his arm. The fabric of his suit is even softer than it looks, like brushed velvet under my fingertips. "You look pretty amazing yourself."
Maverick grins, pulling my fingers to his lips for a quick kiss, then offering me his arm. "Shall we?"
As we walk to the elevator, my curiosity gets the better of me. "Where are we going?" Maverick's grin is enigmatic as he presses the button, and I'm surprised when he selects the thirty-fourth floor.
"What are we doing?" I ask, confused as we approach a door next to Bree's apartment.
Maverick's smile softens. "I really wanted some one-on-one time with you. No interruptions, no distractions. Just you and me." He opens the door, and I gasp.
The apartment is mostly bare, save for a large table set for two in the center of the room and a basic black leather couch. Candles flicker everywhere, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. The table is adorned with two elegant place settings, the china and crystal gleaming in the soft light.
But what takes my breath away are the flowers. Vases of every shape and size are scattered around the room, filled with an array of blooms. Roses in deep reds and soft pinks, sunny yellow tulips, and elegant white lilies. The scent is intoxicating, a heady mix of floral perfumes that fills the air.
In the candlelight, everything seems softer, more magical. Shadows dance on the walls, and the polished surfaces of the table and vases reflect the flickering flames, creating a mesmerizing play of light and dark.
