by Goode, Ella
My life has become so different over the last month, and she’s not here for me to tell her about it. I’m not sure how she would have reacted to my grandma coming to the house, but I think she would have given her a chance.
I can’t help but wonder what she would think of Gant. What advice would she have given him about me? Gant reaches out and swipes his thumb across the side of my mouth. When he pulls it back, I see powdered sugar on it. He brings it to his mouth, sucking it clean. The heat in his eyes has me fighting not to wiggle in my seat.
“You like?” he asks. I shove another giant bite of the beignet into my mouth.
“More than like.” I cover my mouth realizing I talked with food in it. He only gives me that charming smile of his. I’m really seeing why the bidding was so crazy for Gant. He’s a unicorn compared to all the other men I’ve met since I’ve come to stay with my grandma. Tonight’s date had proved that he’s sincere. Him being sweet and charming is not an act. You’d never know he was wealthy until someone told you or if you were familiar with who his family is.
“You haven't tried the hot chocolate yet. It might be better than the beignet.”
“That’s because you haven't let me.” He’s holding my hot chocolate on his side of the table. He picks it up and takes a sip.
“I’m making sure that mouth of yours doesn't get burned. I’ve grown very fond of it.”
“How are you single?” I pick up the hot chocolate and take a sip. I let out a small moan as the creamy chocolate taste hits my tongue. It’s so damn good. He’s right. It might be better than the beignet, but it’s definitely not sweeter than one of his kisses.
“I could ask you the same question.” I roll my eyes, not so sure I agree with him. He might be different from all the other men I’ve met so far here, but at least he fits in. He was born into this life.
“I think I’m more fresh meat?” I say. I actually heard someone call me that last night. His smile slips from his face. Ah. I bet he heard someone say it too.
“Who said that to you?”
I shrug. “Are you going to beat them up in my honor?” I tease.
“Yes.” At first I think he’s teasing me back, but from the look in his eyes, I realize he’s not. “Names would be helpful.” He takes out his phone like he’s going to make a list. I can’t help but let out a giggle at how ridiculous he’s being. But I secretly love the fact that he wants to fight for my honor.
“You’re adorably charming. Did you know that?” I’m still blown away by the fact that he’s single.
“Next you’re going to call me cute.”
I burst into laughter. “No, you’re definitely not cute.” I lick my suddenly dry lips as I take his gorgeous face in. “Cute is what one calls a boy.” Our eyes lock.
Gant is hot without having to try. Tonight he’s in a simple pair of jeans and a sweater. The sweater stretches across his broad chest, fitting him rather snugly. My fingers itch to reach out and touch him. To feel him pressed against me.
“Let’s get out of here.” He stands, snagging my coat off the chair. He holds it out for me to slip into. The second he has my coat on me, he’s pulling me out of the pastry shop. The old woman who was serving us gives me a wink with a thumbs-up.
I noticed when we were in the bakery a few of the girls' eyes watched Gant too closely for my liking. Gant hadn’t noticed. All his attention was focused on me as we made small talk getting to know each other. His mom and sister sound pretty kickass.
“I think you know you’re hot. You’re the total package as far as I can tell.”
“And I think you have no idea how breathtaking you are. But I plan to remind you often.” I duck my head to try and hide my blush. He makes me feel like a schoolgirl with a crush I can’t control.
“I did have fun tonight. I don’t want you to think otherwise,” I tell him as he drives us back towards my grandma’s estate. “All of this can be a lot to take in sometimes.”
He reaches over, grabbing my hand. His fingers tangle with mine. “We have all the time in the world.”
Do we? I’m not sure if that's true. My grandma found me in a very lonely part of my life. I've been doing a balancing act of how close I want to be with her. It’s not that I don’t want to. The fear of loving someone and losing them again terrifies me. I’m not sure I can go through that pain again so soon.
Gant lifts our locked hands and kisses the back of mine. He is so casual about it, as though we’ve done it a thousand times before. He never takes his eyes from the road. I’m not sure if he did it because he wanted to kiss my hand or that maybe he can feel my mood shifting and is trying to comfort me.
It’s probably me imagining things or all of those romantic movies and books I read that has me thinking we are two people who instantly connected.
Soul mates. Could that be what this is? For some reason that only scares me even more.
Chapter Twelve
Gant
She holds my hand like she doesn’t want me to let go. I’m fine with that sentiment, which is why I don’t drive her directly to Belle Époque. Sure, that means I’ll have to make a fresh beignet run since the ones in the small box will be soggy by the time Paislee gets home, but that seems like a small price to pay to have her in my home for a small amount of time. It’s not that I’m planning to seduce her there. It doesn’t seem like she’s ready for much more than hand holding and kissing.
“Is this the right way home?” she asks as the houses get smaller and closer together.
“Date night’s not over yet,” I tell her. “We don’t want the foundation after me for failing to deliver on the entire package you bought.”
She shifts in her seat to stare at me instead of the scenery out the window. “Out of curiosity, what would the foundation do? Is there some charity jail that you’d be locked up in?”
My mind flips to the story that Petersburg told about the Biederman twins. If there was a charity jail, it’s likely their house. “Yes. It’s an old drafty house and you are chained to a post in the room and fed only gruel and water.”
“What exactly is gruel?”
“I have no idea, but we can both agree that it sounds terrible, right?”
“Yes, I can agree with that.”
“I like this. What other common ground can we find? Grass is green; sky is blue?” I tease.
“Coke is better than Pepsi.”
“Whoa there. Let’s not go crazy. Scientific studies have shown that Pepsi is the superior cola.”
“What studies are those?” She laughs.
I love that sound. I want to hear it daily. “I’ll show you when we get to my place. I have a whole stack of them in my bedroom,” I lie.
She snorts. “If you wanted to get me into your bedroom, you should just say so.”
“I want you in my bedroom. Preferably naked, but I’m fine if you want to keep your clothes on. There’s plenty of trouble we can get into even if you’re fully clothed.”
Silence falls. There’s no quick rejoinder from Paislee this time. I tear my eyes from the road to check her expression. Have I gone too far? Her eyes are wide, and her cheeks are slightly pink, but what really gets me is her parted lips.
A hundred images tumble one after another of all the profane things I could do with that slight gap. Slip my thumb between them, widen the opening with the fat head of my cock. That sort of thing. Taking her to my home might be a mistake, but it’s too late now. My driveway is two car lengths away. When I pull up to the garage, I suffer a momentary pang of insecurity. My place is tiny compared to Belle Époque. In fact, I think you could fit the entirety of my two-bedroom ranch in the ballroom of Marguerite Abbott’s place. At least that’s what my mom said the few times she’s been over. This place is so small. Even the gardener's home is larger than this. How will you raise a family and don’t tell me you aren’t having a family because I don’t believe it.
Paislee hasn’t said a word since I told her that I wanted her naked in my bedroom.
&n
bsp; “Want me to drive you home?” I find myself asking. It’s the right thing to do, I guess, even though my cock is trying its best to bust out of my jeans.
“No,” she says slowly. “But I don’t know if I need a tour of your bedroom.”
It’s a line, and I’ll respect it. She needs some time to get comfortable with me, and a couple pieces of fried chicken and a beignet isn’t cutting it. I add a mental yet on the end of her sentence and give her a nod of agreement. “Bedrooms are out, but the kitchen, living room, bathroom, and backyard are in.” As if I am not willing and able to fuck her in any of those spaces, but if she feels safe outside the bedroom, I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that. There’ll be plenty of time to strip off my princess’s armor. No need to rush.
I climb out of the car and hurry over to open the door. “You need to see the inside to assess what pet fits the best. I’ve got space for a lizard tank.”
“So you never want to see me again is what I’m hearing,” she jokes.
“Suddenly I hate lizards,” I reply immediately, leading her up the front porch to the door lock. I fit my key into the door and let her in.
Her eyes light up at the sight of the cozy place. “My sister decorated it,” I inform Paislee, giving her a nudge inside and then closing the door. “I’d have never picked an orange sofa myself, but it works.”
“It’s actually gorgeous,” Paislee breathes. “This place screams dog. You should get a poodle.”
“Why a poodle?” I nudge her into the kitchen and push her into a chair at the kitchen island.
“They’re very smart, and they don’t shed much. I think the orange sofa looks good orange and if you got a collie or a shetland, it’d just be dog hair.”
“That’s a good reason. I like smart. I like my orange sofa.” I put a beer in front of her. “I like you.”
She blushes again and ducks her head.
“Too strong?” I ask, popping my own beer open. I stay on my side of the counter, letting her breathe a little.
“How can you say that? We’ve only spent a few hours together.”
“Some things you just know. There aren’t any good explanations other than the obvious. You’re gorgeous, you’re funny, you’re smart, and every minute I’ve spent with you has been a good one. I’m not saying that you should move in today, but let me court you. Let me show you that the best thing this town has to offer isn’t Marguerite Abbott or her money.”
Paislee’s head shoots up, and there’s fire in her eyes that isn’t the result of me stoking an ember of desire, but me shooting an arrow into a flame of anxiety I hadn’t even known existed. My momma didn’t raise a dumbass, but I just stuck my foot so far down my mouth, I’m choking on the ankle bone.
“Do I look like a gold digger to you? Because I’m not. I didn’t search Grandma out. She came to find me.” She tilts her chin in the air and hops off the stool. “I’m ready to go home now. Date’s over.”
Chapter Thirteen
Paislee
“What do you think of this?” My grandma holds up a blue velvet box with a pearl necklace tucked inside of it. We just left the bank where she’d pulled it and a few other things out of a safety deposit box. She’d asked me to accompany her and I needed something to keep my mind off what happened with Gant last night.
“It’s pretty.” I reach out and run my fingers along the pearls. My mom and I used to always play dress-up when I was little. We never had anything remotely close to this, but none of that mattered. I still have the box of plastic gaudy jewelry we’d put on. And I’ll always have the memory. Grandma’s face lights up with a smile at my approval.
“I want you to have them.” She picks them up out of the box. I shake my head no. Not that it ever stops her. When she wants something, she pushes until it happens. I’m getting used to that fact.
“You’ve already given me so much.” I don’t want my grandma to think that I’m out for her money too. Obviously everyone else that runs in these circles already thinks that.
Gant’s words still sting. I saw the regret on his face the moment they passed his lips. He might not have meant it in the way it came out, but it still hurt. It made me question if I’d read him all wrong.
I think the comment hit too close to home. It played into my fear that my grandma might think that of me one day. She hasn't been in my life long, but I’ve grown attached to her rather quickly. Part of it is her determination to have a relationship with me. I can tell it’s genuine, and that’s why Gant’s words had hurt me so much last night.
I don’t want my grandma to ever think I wanted a relationship with her so I could dip my hand in the pot. It’s nice to have someone in the world you can lean on. I’ve felt so alone since I lost my mom. Soon I’ll be caught as a fraud and tossed out of here. Everyone will finally realize I don’t belong. If it was up to my brothers and father, that would have happened already.
“Let me see them on you.” Not wanting to tell her no, I lean over toward her, allowing her to place them around my neck. She quickly clasps them and leans back to look at me. “Perfect.” She beams. I open my mouth to tell her it’s too much, but she begins speaking before I can get a word out. “They were my mother’s. My dad bought them for her when they renewed their wedding vows on their ten-year anniversary. She wouldn't let him replace the ring he slipped on her finger back when they didn't have two nickels to rub together. So this was his way of buying her something new.”
“I love that.” I reach up and touch them.
“I’m happy I get to pass them on finally.”
“Thank you. I will treasure them.”
“I know you will, sweetheart. Then one day you’ll give them to your daughter.” She closes the box, putting it back into her purse. My heart flutters whenever I think about having kids. It always does. I’ve always wanted a houseful of children. More so since I lost my mom. I don’t want them to ever be alone.
“Are you going to tell me about your date last night? I was a little disappointed you came home so early.” My mouth falls open. “What? You’ve seen Gant. The girls that want his attention.”
Yuck. I might be disappointed with Gant, but I don't want to think about him with other girls.
“No need to growl.” She laughs. “You sound like a baby cub.”
“I didn't growl.” Did I?
“Sure you didn't, sweetheart.” She winks at me. “When are you two going out again?” I shrug, looking out the window of the car. I want to tell her what happened with Gant last night, but I’m tossed up about it. Even though I’m upset with him, I don’t want her to think badly of him. But I also want her advice.
“I’m not sure we will,” I finally give. Is it smart to be dating someone right now? I don’t even know how long I’ll be here.
“Why is that?”
“We come from two different worlds,” I remind her. Grandma lets out a small huff.
“This is your world, Paislee. You just didn't know it.”
I ponder her words. I have been to a degree letting some of my family bully me out.
“Last night all I could think about is what my mom would have said about Gant.”
“Sweetheart.” Grandma grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I think Gant is a good man. If I thought any differently, he wouldn't have made it past the front gate. Not to mention your father hates him.” I snort a laugh. “Gant might have stabbed him with a fork.”
“What!” I remember an off-handed comment that was made about someone being stabbed, but I thought it was a joke or metaphor.
“He made a pass at his mom. I think Gant was ten at the time.” I cover my mouth laughing. I shouldn't laugh, but I can’t help myself.
“I think he might think I’ve got some of my father in me,” I admit. Grandma bursts into laughter.
“If he thought that, he never would have pushed for a date. I think you should hear him out more. Men often wind up putting their foot in their own mouths. Not to mention Gant isn't known to d
ate.” I lick my bottom lip. I can’t believe I’m about to ask this.
“They said he was a virgin. I thought everyone was joking.”
“I was surprised but not shocked. Gant has always been a guard dog to his mother and sister. His father was a good man. A lot like Gant. Down to earth. I think he’s a bit of a romantic at heart. The whole family is that way.”
Her words make me feel better, giving me a sense of hope when it comes to Gant.
“Now. Let’s get some lunch. Food always makes me think more clearly.”
“I’d like that.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Grandma?”
“Yes, sweet girl.” I swear the words I love you are on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them.
“Thanks.” The car door opens for us to get out.
“Anything for you. Plus we’re meeting with some friends of mine. They know more about Gant than anyone.” What does that mean?
Before I can ask, a beautiful girl with dark hair and blue eyes is hugging me. “I see how you knocked Gant off his feet.” She gives me a giant smile. One dimple pops deep into her left cheek, letting me know without a doubt this is Gant’s sister. “I’m Caro, and I can’t wait for you to tell me what he did that has him stomping around like a bear with a thorn in his paw.” She locks her arm with mine. “Over lunch obviously. Mom is going to die when she sees you. She’s inside already.”
Caro starts pulling me toward the door of the restaurant. I’m not sure if I should freak out or not. I’m going to meet his mom, a woman whose dresses I’ve had a small obsession with since I was a young girl dreaming up a fairytale love story and wedding. One my mom actually helped me plan when I was ten.
As scared as I am about Gant’s mom’s reaction to me, I’m more excited to hear what they have to say about him. I’m in way over my head when it comes to that man, and I’ll take any advantage I can get.
Chapter Fourteen