“Nothing,” she relaxes back on the couch. “Nothing at all.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you're nosy,” she nods, “and pushy.” Again she nods as if this is no news to her. “He was checking on me after the night at the lake and that’s all.”
“Mmhmm,” oh this woman. “And, he was checking out your ass too.”
“I cannot believe you said that to him, and loud enough that I heard too.” I’m reminded of the embarrassment I felt.
“You weren’t the only one embarrassed. His cheeks reddened, yet the corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile.”
“Pushy,” I shake my head as if I’m annoyed but she knows better.
Like I said, Gran is my best friend. I can tell her anything and she never holds back with me. I don’t have many girlfriends, actually I have none. I never tried to connect with anyone outside of Gran. I have trust issues, and she is the only person who has never hurt me.
“I bet he could make your toes curl.”
“Gran!” I swat at her, and she doesn’t bat a lash.
“What? Did you see the boy's stance, and those arms? No doubt he works hard, the manual labor has done him good. All powerful and strong, mm mm mmm.”
“I think you need to double up on your blood pressure medicine.”
She laughs, but I’m not joking. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Gran so worked up.
“He gets the heart pumping that’s for sure.”
“Cougar,” I tease and of course she simply smiles wide and nods her head as if she agrees.
I’m not sure she can be trusted in the presence of young men.
“So when’s the first date?”
“What date?” I ask, wrinkling my brows. Had I missed something?
“I presume Garrett asked you out,” she turns her body to face mine and looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“There was no asking for any dates.”
It's her turn to look confused, her frown line deepening and her eyes narrowing like Garrett has committed some horrendous crime.
“Gran.”
“Don’t you Gran me, has the boy lost his damn mind?”
“Like I said he was only checking on me.”
“And like I said the only checking he was doing is that of your behind. That man was on a mission and you’re telling me he did not follow through.”
“Leave it alone,” I know the chances of that are slim.
“Leave it alone my ass, I’m gonna have to call his momma.”
“You are not calling his momma!” I gasp. Could you imagine? I would be mortified. “He’ll ask if he wants to, when he wants. The last thing I need is a date only led by my Gran who called the guy's mother and forced the event. Woman, do you have no boundaries?”
I would lock her in the closet and take away her keys, and phone.
“Boundaries do not exist when it comes to you.”
I settle, taking in a slow deep breath. My heart continues to race. “Please,” I say slowly, hoping to penetrate her need to strike for no reason. “If he wants to ask me out he will. Do not interfere and humiliate me more than I already am over the entire Phil disaster.”
“To hell with Phil, that sorry sack of shit.” And the distraction has been set into motion. “That man comes within a foot of you, and I will chop off his pecker and brand his forehead with the word-dickless.”
I snicker at the mental image she’s just triggered.
She pauses looking at me as I cover my mouth with my hand.
“What?” She asks.
“Your kind of crazy should scare me, but it's inspiring.” Her smile widens. “Does that make us both insane?”
“No, it makes us strong!”
Something I never dreamed I would ever be. Had it not been for Gran I’d most likely would have ended up as low as my mother. Another thing I am grateful for every day, because being Luann is nothing more than a dead-end road.
“Ice cream?” Gran stands from the couch and starts toward the kitchen. “I got mint chocolate chip, fudge brownie, and Oreo.”
“All of the above,” I follow behind her and grab two bowls while she grabs the ice cream from the freezer.
I know Gran means no harm when it comes to her ways with me. She seriously hovers in the best kind of way. She wants me happy; she wants me safe and most of all she never wants me to feel lost like I was all those years ago.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Garrett
“Twice in one week,” the woman behind the counter beams as I enter the bakery. “And I thought all the treats were stored in these display cases.” The way she looks me up and down as she drags her hands over the glass sends a shiver through me and not the good kind.
“What can I say?” I shrug, needing this moment to end fast. I have no idea who she is, but what I do know is she’s gotta be ten to fifteen years older than me and wearing a ring on her finger. Apparently flirting heavily with a younger guy is open game.
“You can come right over here and say anything you want, handsome.” I try not to throw up in my mouth, but the way she is stroking the edge of the counter is turning my stomach.
“Kyra around?” I ignore her wandering eyes and look to the left at the swinging doors, practically begging for someone to step through them.
“She’s around here somewhere.” Yet the lady shows no signs of searching for her. “Can I get you something sweet while you wait?”
“I’m good,” why do I suddenly feel so dirty. Like this woman is violating me with her eyes. The way she is biting her lip lost in thought makes me consider leaving without giving Kyra what I’ve brought for her.
“Casey did we run out of—,” relief washes over me when the swinging door flies open as Kyra comes out front from the kitchen, stopping as she stares at me. But before I can warn her the door reverses back and collides with her without warning. Suddenly she is gone.
“Ow,” the word is muffled but clear and whispered harshly behind the now closed door.
Casey laughs, her mouth covered as she leans over onto the counter and I too want to laugh, but more importantly I want to make sure Kyra is okay.
Placing one hand on the door I slowly start to push it open when I am met with resistance.
“No,” she whines.
“Are you okay?”
“Nope,” this word is clearer than the last, yet she still won’t let me open the door enough to get by. Nothing more than a crack big enough to put my arm through. So I present what I’ve brought to her through the opening. When I feel her hand brush against mine, I smile in satisfaction.
“June says it's what you always get.”
She takes the cup of coffee from me and again I try to open the door.
“Nope,” she replies, “right now looking at you is only going to remind me that you watched as the door collided with my face. So for now I’ll say thank you for the coffee, it really is a very sweet gesture. But I need to forget that I’m a hot mess and you watched it unfold.”
“I don’t think you are a mess,” I purposely left off the word hot.