Page 73 of You Saw the Best In Me

“Hi, Angel,” I whisper into his chest, feeling complete in his arms.

“Missed you, Karina,” he kisses my forehead, and Harper screams from the other side of the room.

“I knew you two were in love! This is incredible. I can’t wait to tell the group chat,” she runs off, the excitement sweeping her right out of the room.

Maverick and I shake our heads, and he brings me to the garage to meet Grams.

He warns me that she’s in a mood today and to tread lightly.

“Grams, you in here?” he taps on the door, looking around before spotting her.

“Is this the mythical Karina?” she stands, coming to greet me.

She moves slowly and is heavier set but looks like an average grandmother with permed, white hair.

“Yes, Grams. This is Karina,” he drapes his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close.

“Thank god. I thought he had an imaginary friend,” she walks by me, barely giving me the time of day.

Maverick squeezes my arm, telling me not to take it personally. I follow him inside, watching as he takes the reins in the kitchen again, Harper right by his side.

This is arguably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. He gives her direction, and she follows everything he says and implements his techniques perfectly.

I can’t sear a meatball to save my life, but Maverick’s teaching his thirteen-year-old sister how to do it like a pro.

“Karina! Come over here,” Grams shouts and the siblings exchange a knowing glance, something I’m not tuned into.

I sit beside her on the couch, unaware of what she could want to talk to me about. I let her be the first to break the silence, and I hear Mav and Harper whispering as they watch us.

“So, you like my grandson?” she asks, never taking her eyes off the TV.

“Yes, very much, Mrs. Carter,” I clear my throat and hear a roar of laughter from the kitchen.

Shit.

Did I say something wrong already?

“Mrs. Carter was my whore of a mother, don’t call me that again. It’s Martha, please,” she spits, and I am fucking this up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Martha, it is. Your home is lovely; thank you for having me,” I try my hardest to be polite, but she isn’t buying it.

“Cut the nice shit. You don’t need to play games with this old broad. Mavvy can be a pain in the ass. You sure you can handle him?” she deadpans, looking straight into my eyes.

Mavvy? Jesus, that’s a nickname from hell. The way she says it comes out condescending, not endearing. I can see why Maverick hates to talk about her, and Harper wants him around as much as possible.

She’s a crotchety old bitch, with some sort of axe to grind against her grandson.

From what I’ve gathered, he takes complete care of her financially, and she clearly takes it for granted.

“Maverick is wonderful, the best thing that ever happened to me. Maybe you should step back and realize what a treasure he is,” I counter, and the peanut gallery gasps behind us.

She shifts in the chair, turning to face me completely. I smile right back at her, never backing down from a challenge.

If this fossil wants to go toe-to-toe with me, she better prepare for the storm.

If this woman thinks she can scare me off or get the best of me, she’s got a lot to learn.

“He’s nothing special. You must be after his money,” she scoffs, and I don’t dare show the anger flowing through me.