Page 114 of Maverick

I love being here, but tonight, I'm excited to get home to Maverick. To spend another amazing night in his bed. Nan hasn't said anything, but I'm sure she's noticed that my bed isn't being slept in, so I'm sure she's going to bust my ass at the worst possible time.

But I don't care. It's worth it.

As I approach the front door, my heart stops. There's a box. Duct taped shut. Fear grips me, ice-cold tendrils wrapping around my chest.Not again. Please, not again.

I shove the door open, my hands trembling as I tear at the tape. The sound of it ripping echoes in the empty parking lot. Five tiny bodies, barely moving. Puppies. So young, their eyes aren't even open yet.

"Shit," I mutter, carefully lifting the box. Rage bubbles up inside me, threatening to spill over. How could someone do this? Just dump these helpless babies like trash?

Tucking the rage into the corner of my mind, I rush to the back room hugging the box to my chest. With practiced movements honed from way too many similar situations, I set up the heating pad, adjusting its temperature just right. My hands tremble as I measure out the powdered formula, accidentally spilling some on the countertop. "Come on, focus," I mutter to myself, inhaling deeply to steady my nerves.

Gathering an array of supplies - towels, a small scale, and a notebook - I return to the box of puppies. Gently, I lift each tiny body, my heart constricting at their fragility. There are five in total: two black ones, a brindle, and two with patches of white and brown. Their eyes are still sealed shut, pink noses twitching as they make soft tiny cries.

I check them over meticulously, feeling for any signs of injury or illness. Their skin is loose, a sign of dehydration, but their gums are a healthy pink. As I feed each puppy with a small syringe, relief washes over me. They're weak, but they're fighters, eagerly lapping at the formula despite their ordeal. If I hadn't been here... I shake my head, pushing away the thought. They're safe now. That's what matters.

Carefully, I weigh each pup, jotting down their measurements in my notebook. The smallest one, a little black ball of fur, concerns me the most. The others are squeaking and wriggling, while he lays too still. Thankfully, he takes the milk eagerly.

Once they're fed and warm, the littlest one tucked inside my bra, I pull out my phone, pulling up Maverick's contact. My finger hovers over it for a moment. We had plans tonight. Things have been so good between us lately, and I was really looking forward to our date.

But these puppies need round-the-clock care. I can't leave them.

I hit call, steeling myself for disappointment.

"Hey, beautiful," Maverick's warm voice fills my ear.

"Hi," I say, my voice cracking a little. "I'm so sorry, but I can't make it tonight. Someone dumped five newborn puppies at the rescue. They need to be fed every two hours, and I-"

"Bring them home," Maverick interrupts.

I blink, sure I've misheard. "What?"

"Bring them home," he repeats. "We can take care of them together."

"Mav, it's not that simple. I need special equipment, formula, heating pads-"

"So bring it all. We've got plenty of space."

I'm stunned into silence. This man never ceases to amaze me.

"Are you sure?" I ask, hope blooming in my chest.

"Absolutely. I'll tell Nan and order us some dinner."

Tears prick at my eyes as I hang up. That seals it. That man is a diamond. No, not a diamond. Rarer. Whatever the rarest gem in the world is, that's what he is.

I quickly gather everything we'll need, tucking the puppies into a proper carrier with a hot water bottle.

The drive home is uneventful, thankfully. As I pull into the underground garage, I'm taken aback by the sight of five imposing figures blocking my path. Declan, Zach, Colton, John, and Maverick are all there, nearly vibrating. They rush my car as soon as I slow. I barely have time to put it in park before Declan's at my door.

"Hey Cady. Shitty night, huh?" he says with a sympathetic smile.

Before I can protest, the others are already unloading the supplies from the backseat. I watch, bemused, as they squabble over who gets to carry the puppy carrier, getting into somesort of weird ball-slapping fight. Colton emerges victorious, cradling the carrier to his chest and murmuring softly to its tiny occupants.

Maverick's arm wraps around my shoulders, gently steering me towards the elevator. "But my car-" I start to say.

"It's covered," Maverick assures me. Sure enough, Declan's already maneuvering it into its spot. He locks it with the fob, and jogs back to us.

As we all crowd into the elevator, I'm overwhelmed by a surge of love for all of them. The last time puppies were dumped at my front door, Nan and I took care of them by ourselves. There was no one else to help. This time is so different, the men peppering me with questions about the puppies, their concern evident in every word.