“Sorry,” he rumbled, looking anywhere but at me as what looked like a blush crept up his tanned neck.
“You should be, young man,” my grandmother scolded good naturedly. “Didn’t your grandmother ever tell you it was impolite to eavesdrop?”
“She did. She does. Again, I’m really sorry. I was coming to check on Len—Ms. Holloway to see if she needed anything after spilling on her dress.”
My grandmother looked Maverick up and down critically, assessing him from head-to-toe and seeming to like what she saw.
“You’re Philip Onassis’s son, right?”
Maverick nodded.
“Farrow told me you’d be looking after my granddaughter but he didn’t tell me how handsome you were going to be,” my grandmother said, a satisfied smile growing on her lips.
“Grandma…” I cautioned, wondering what was going to come out of her mouth next.
She turned and shot me a mischievous grin. “Oh stop, Lennon, I won’t say anything embarrassing.”
Maverick looked like a deer caught in headlights as she pushed off of the counter and approached him, circling him like a predator.
“Tell me, what is your priority here, Agent Onassis?”
Maverick cleared his throat gruffly. “To protect your granddaughter, ma’am?”
“Uh-huh.” My grandmother hummed thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “And how good are you at multitasking?”
Maverick frowned, his warm brown eyes meeting mine to ask for help.
I just shook my head, he was on his own when my grandmother was like this.
The look of betrayal on his face as he answered nearly made me laugh out loud. “Um, well, we are trained to be fantastic multitaskers at the academy, ma’am.”
My grandmother seemed pleased by that answer because she gave his shoulder a firm pat. “Good answer, young man. Now, Lennon, I’m going to go and see if I can find you something to wear for the rest of the barbecue. Why don’t you and your beau stay here and wait for me?”
“What?” I asked, wanting to know what she meant by the word beau, but she was already gone, whistling her way down the hallway.
Then Maverick and I were all alone in the kitchen, the faraway laughter from outside the only noise filling the space as we stared at each other awkwardly.
We hadn’t had a one-on-one conversation since before the car accident and being in this space with him brought the memories bubbling back up to the surface.
The softness of his voice, the warmth of his hand as he scraped them up and down my back, and the vibration of what I now realized was an alpha’s purr being used to calm my panic attack.
Tension hung in the air as I tried to search for something, anything to say to him.
“So,” he finally said, breaking the silence first. “Are you having fun at the party?”
My brows rose at that as I looked incredulously down at my barbecue sauce stained dress. “No, I’m not. Are you?”
“No,” he answered quickly enough that I could help the smile that followed.
He smiled too and it was a dazzlingly rare sight for the usually serious alpha.
Maverick took a few steps closer and I realized that I could smell his scent more deeply than usual.
“Did you use your suppressants today?” I asked, lifting my nose and inhaling his vanilla bourbon scent.
“I did,” Maverick confirmed, his smile turning down into a frown as he stopped. “I always do.”
It was my turn to move forward until I was standing right in front of him, his scent filling my nose more deeply.
