Meet with his bookie?
Get in an early workout?
Rehab? Watch film? Meet with someone at the Complex?
A million thoughts run through my mind, but not a single one comes close to being correct. He’s only shown me his tough guy side, the side that’s all grumpy asshole and attitude.
I dress in my usual business professional attire, line my lips with my badass red lipstick, and click my heels to get down to the lobby by five. He emerges at five ten—a little early, as I suspected, and he’s in the clothes he’ll wear to practice. Shorts, a tee, and sneakers.
“Are you going to tell me where I’m going so I can drive separately, or am I riding as your passenger?” I ask, bypassing the usual morning greetings since they’ll go underappreciated by him anyway.
“Get in the truck,” he mutters.
“Okay, I’ve been through every possible scenario,” I say once he pulls out of the parking garage. “And I’m thinking it’s either an early appointment with someone at the Complex, a therapist perhaps, or you’re going to drive me out to the middle of the desert and leave me there since you seeno other way out of this.” I glance over at him, and he’s notsmiling, exactly, but I think I spot the tiniest hint of amusement near his eyes as they look out over the road that’s just starting to brighten with the light of dawn.
He shakes his head. “Neither.”
A huff of irritation rises out of my chest, but I leave it be.
Shortly before the time his appointment starts, we pull into a parking lot, and I read the sign over the old building.Sunny Acres Animal Shelter.
An animal shelter?
Maverick’s big, secret appointment is at…an animal shelter?
I glance over at him with my brows furrowed. “What are we doing here?”
“I volunteer here once a week. Friday mornings before practice.”
“Youvolunteerhere?” This big, strong, gruff—and yes, sexy as hell—superstar who refuses to let anyone close enough to get to know him at all volunteers weekly helping animals?
Why does my heart squeeze at that? Why does he suddenly seem less like a total asshole? And why, for the love of all things holy, does he not show anyone this side of him?
All questions I intend to answer…eventually.
But for now, I’m bracing myself for the unexpected.
We head inside, and it’s clear I chose the wrong shoes for this morning’s activity.
“Good morning, Mav,” a woman behind a reception desk says as soon as the door shuts behind us. “You brought a guest today, I see.”
“She works for the team,” he says thickly.
“We just have a quick application and liability waiver for you to complete,” she says to me.
“Of course.” She hands me a clipboard, and I scribble out my information while she tells Maverick about what he’ll be doing today. I half-listen as I fill out the forms.
“We have two big boys who came in this week, and they need some one-on-one attention. Maybe you could take one, and your associate could handle the other? We’ll keep them both leashed if you’d like to walk together. Your favorite girl also needs some love. She misses her favorite paw pal.”
Paw pal? Maverick Jennings is apaw pal? Friggin’ adorable. Hotandcute. Lethal. This man is freakinglethal.
I blow out a breath and push the clipboard back to the woman, who thanks me profusely for being here, and then the two of us head back to tackle our assignments.
Maverick doesn’t say a word as he leads me toward a set of cages, and he starts with the one that says “Bruno” above it, an older German Shepherd. He opens the cage, and Bruno walks tentatively out.
“Do they come in with names?” I ask.
“Some,” he grunts as he bends down to his knees and holds out a hand. Bruno walks toward him, his tail wagging but down low, as if he’s a little unsure, a little nervous, but at the same time, he knows he likes this guy, and he wants to trust him.
