“A nice omega.”
I groaned. This wasn’t what I was dreaming of but the stuff of nightmares. “No, Gran. Remember the last time.” I shivered, picturing that guy’s dirty fingernails and where they’d been.
“Oh, yes, poor Shawn. He’s such a nice young man. He has some questionable habits, but true love would look beyond that and into his heart.”
“Gran, did you hear that on one of your soap operas?” I loved that she was addicted to her soaps, and when we were together, she’d often tell me what was happening in great detail.
There was a rustling on the other end. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
“Sorry, the nose picking was too much for me.”
Gran sighed. “We’re getting off track.” Yeah, let’s discuss anything but that. “I’m talking about someone else.”
“Listen, Gran, I love that you care and want me to be happy, but my love life is my business.”
“And how’s that going?” she asked
“Ouch!”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” she said. “But it’s true.”
“This year is about my writing.”
“Who says you can’t do both?” she asked.
My grandmother was wearing me down. “Maybe.”
“He’s very sweet and has just arrived back in town.”
“So, he’s out of work?”
“No. His boss gave him time off, plus he’ll be working from home. Just like you.” I could hear the excitement in her voice. “Look at that, you have something in common already.”
“I don’t know…” I did know. I didn’t want to go on a blind date with someone my grandmother thought was perfect. If the last guy was anything to go by…
“He’s looking forward to it.”
“You’ve arranged it already? Told him I’d meet him?”
“Well, not exactly… but I’m sure he’ll agree.”
She was doing my head in. “Listen, how about we talk more tomorrow. And I promise I’ll think about it. But for the next few weeks, I’ll be up early to write, then building your patio. When I’m done, I’ll want a shower, cold beer, and to crash into bed.”
“Alone?”
“Gran!” I had to get off the phone ‘cause discussing my nonexistent sex life with my grandmother was not part of the plan. “See you bright and early tomorrow.”
“Sex!” Floyd screeched.
“Not you too.”
104
Keith
“Grandpa, I gotta bring this across the street.” I looked down at the package for Miss Stella. Why did they keep leaving them here? Why? “Will you be okay?”
He gave me a thumbs-up with one hand and his finger to his lips with the other. Oh, yeah. I forgot. Shifter World time.
I gave a half wave and headed across the way. He should be sleeping after PT had spent an hour with him. But him and his soaps. At least they kept him happy and entertained. A bored Grandpa who wasn’t mobile? I shook at the mere thought of it.
I’d say it was only a quick trip. Drop and go, but with Miss Stella it never was. Not when I was a kid and certainly not now. She liked to be in the know and would keep you there until you filled her nosy meter.
Maybe the work guy would be back. It never hurt to have some eye candy.
I lifted my hand to knock, and she had the door swung open before I hit the door.
“How’s your grandfather?” She stood back, swishing her arm as a way of inviting me in.
“He’s doing okay, Miss Stella. I should be getting back to him.” I held out the package. “The delivery man left this at our house.”
“You are not a youngin’ anymore. Call me Stella.” She didn’t touch the package, so I just held it there looking foolish, unsure what she wanted me to do with it. It weighed not even a pound, so it wasn’t like it was too heavy for her. Heck. Last time I visited she was on a ladder hanging Christmas lights.
“Can you put it on the table, dear?” Ah, she was still on operation get the gossip. I glanced at my watch. There were at least ten more minutes of Shifter World left. I could dump the info and go.
“Sure, Miss—”
She tsked.
“Sure, Stella.” It was not even close to worth fighting about. Although maybe I should just call her Professor and call it good. If she was still teaching. I wasn’t as up on the local gossip as she was. Or any gossip really other than the two love birds at work, and that was more awww than anything else.
I walked in and set it down.
“Sorry about that. I’m not sure why they can’t get it right.”
“It’s because your Grandpa still hasn’t put his house number up like the city said we had to.” She shook her head as if it was the most scandalous thing she ever heard.
“I’ll show you,” She grabbed my arm and led me outside. “You see.” She pointed to an enamel sign about two-by-six, leaning against her house under her mailbox. It had a huge number four on it, clear as day.
Her house was not number four.
“Miss...I mean, Stella, how can you be number four when Grandpa is number four?”
“Fiddlesticks. That keeps happening.” She bent over and flipped the sign over and it no longer had a huge four on it. No. It said seven. Seven—her actual house number. Who has a double-sided house number and doesn’t make sure the correct side is facing forward? Miss Stella, apparently.
“So this happens?” I was officially amused. “Your sign just flips over.”
“Yes. Sally, next door to your Grandpa in the blue house...she has a cat named Fred. I call him asscat.”
I would not giggle like a school kid. I would not giggle like a school kid.
“He is always knocking the blasted thing over. And I guess I don’t always pay attention when I put it back up.”
“And then Grandpa gets your packages.”
“If he had his number up they wouldn’t be confused.” I wasn’t sure how that was the case. If all the houses had numbers but his, he was going to get the odd-man-out package. I put getting a house number on my mental to-do list.
“I can mount that for you.” It would save Grandpa some trips across the street after I left and he was more mobile and keep me from these little visits. Which honestly were entertaining, but still.
“My grandson will do it. I just keep forgetting to ask.” Ahh, the guy with the great ass on the ladder was her grandson. “He teaches at the university and is on leave writing his novel.”
“He sounds nice.”
Her lips formed a grin that told me I had said exactly the very wrong thing. I knew that look. That was the I have a special someone to set you up with and I promise it won’t be as awful as all the others look. It always was.
“I am sure you two would get along perfectly. He loves the coffee place. So you like coffee? I could set up a little meeting.” At least she didn’t go straight to the wedding bells and babies like the last person who tried to set me up. A father of the groom, of all people...with his other son. That wasn’t awkward at all. Nope.
“Thank you so much for the kind offer, but I don’t live here and will be going back soon, and I really need to run. Grandpa’s show is over and he’s probably going to want some tea.”
“Tell him I wish him well,” she called to me as I was already down the walk. “But my grandson will be here tomorrow, so if you’re free, come for lunch.”
“Thanks. But not sure if I can make it, Stella.” Nice ass or not. Blind dates set up by grandmothers were a hot mess of never.
“Hey, Grandpa, I’m back.” I stepped inside to see him trying to get up. On his own. “Stop. I’ll help you.” I rushed over and followed the steps taught to me by the nursing staff to get him back into his chair. He was not impressed.
“Okay, let me get your walker and we can get you moving. Where were you headed?”
“I was going to see what was taking you so long.” Great. My dawdling was the catalyst.
“I was talking to Stella. You shouldn
’t be getting any more of her packages.” I grabbed his phone off the stand next to his recliner. “This is how you call me,” I reminded him. I hated to treat him like a child, but he would more likely fall than not without my assistance, and then he for sure would end up in the rehab facility he so very much feared.
“I forgot.”
“It’s no biggie. I just worry.” A lot. I’d read the papers Tyler had given us and they basically said he was on borrowed time for a hip replacement and that he might never regain full mobility. I hoped that wasn’t true. There was not much more Grandpa valued than his ability to do what he wanted and when.
“You missed a great episode.”
“Why don’t I get us some tea and you can tell me all about it.”
And tell me all about it he did.
105
Ethan
With my run finished, I was in the shower, water pounding on my head. Is that the phone? I turned off the water, but what I heard was not ringing but Floyd yelling, “Answer the damn phone.” Shit!
I dripped water as I walked over the living room floor. Not surprisingly, it was Gran. It was eight-thirty, so too early for the delivery. Maybe she wanted to change her coffee order. Or perhaps a character in one of her telenovelas was having a crisis.
I grinned. It was so cute how she got wrapped up in their stories, and I hoped the people who eventually read my book would feel the same way about my characters.
“Hey, Gran. Everything okay?”
No hello or how are you but just, “That damned fool.”
“Good morning to you too.”
“Larry. The delivery guy.”
“What’s he done?” Or not done.
“He delivered the pallet of stuff you ordered to the wrong house.”
What the freaking hell! “It wasn’t supposed to happen til nine.”
“He got up early and decided to make his first delivery ahead of time, but he got the wrong number.”
I was sure I’d given him Gran’s address. I padded back to the bathroom and wrapped a towel around my hips. “I’ll call him and tell him he has to pick them up and bring them to your place.” I didn’t fancy lugging stuff across town in my car.
“No need. You have big strong arms and shoulders,” she said.
I pictured myself with the bags of sand and pavers in a wheelbarrow trundling through the streets. “Gran, I can’t… those bags are heavy.”
“I can help,” she huffed.
I wasn’t about to let my 70-year-old grandma stagger over the sidewalk with heavy bags on her shoulders.
“You wouldn’t have to walk far. He left it at a neighbor’s.”
I exhaled, pleased that I didn’t have to go ten rounds with Larry while insisting he’d made a mistake. “Okay, that’s not so bad. I’ll be out the door in ten minutes. Cappuccino?”
“Ummm… it feels like a latte kind of day.”
“Latte it is.”
As I pulled into Gran’s driveway, she was waiting in the front yard. Guess I’ve got to get to work. There was no time to drink my coffee, so I took two gulps, burned my throat and yelled, “Fuck!”
Floyd, who was in the back seat, because he hated being alone at home, repeated what I’d said. More than once. So there were fucks echoing along the street. White lace curtains twitched in a number of windows, but Gran took it in her stride. She sipped the coffee I gave her and paid no attention to the nosy neighbors as she pointed to Mr. Jenson’s place.
“Is he okay? He hasn’t been taken back to the hospital, has he?” I asked as I held my Americano in one hand and Floyd’s cage in the other.
My grandmother shook her head. “He’s not great, but he’s at home. His grandson’s staying with him.”
As my brain processed the words ‘grandson and ‘staying with him’, the hottie who I’d stared at when I was on the ladder appeared. My mouth gaped as he strode through the door, and I took a step forward. But I stumbled and hot coffee splashed over my clean shirt, burning my chest. “Fuck!”
“Fuck!” yelled Floyd. But he didn’t stop there. “Get laid,” he squawked, followed by, ‘Sex,’ and another, “Fuck!”
I groaned as a melodic voice said, “That’s a lot of fucks for so early in the morning.”
Looking up, I was struck by a magnificent pair of expressive blue eyes, and I lost the ability to speak. “Sorry… I… he… I mean… yeah…” Oh God! Let me form a complete sentence. I had no fucks left to give.
“You’re wet,” he said. That was the wrong thing to say, or perhaps the right thing. My brain whirred as I pictured his ass covered in slick. It was a good thing I couldn’t talk. I studied his face. That’s a smirk. Definitely a smirk. He’s messing with my head.
Gran nudged me as I put down the paper cup and inspected the damage to my shirt. “Ethan, this is Keith.”
“We’ve met—sort of,” he said. “I saw you on the roof the day I arrived.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said as I put the parrot’s cage on the ground. “And this is Floyd.” As I tried to look at anything but Keith, I discovered the bags of concrete sitting in front of his place.
Gran was giving me an odd look and sort of jerking her head toward the omega. “Keith was the one I was telling you about,” she mumbled through her smile.
“Oh yeah, the patio. Sorry. I’ll get right on that.”
My grandmother shook her head. “No. Remember yesterday on the phone.”
My eyes darted to Keith who was now leaning on the front gate. Suddenly the future became so much better. I had a hard slog ahead of me, but Gran had been trying to set me up on a date with Keith. This was my lucky day.
Gran inspected my stained shirt. “Sweetheart, I think you need to take that off so I can soak it.”
Was my grandmother wanting life to imitate her favorite soap operas? The workmen always whipped off their sweaty shirts and sashayed across the lawn, park, bedroom, or deck. Take your pick. There was always a shirtless guy, and he never just walked.
“Ummm… I…”
“If you don’t, it’ll be ruined,” she insisted.
“Not now, Gran,” I whispered. Is she trying to get me naked? That’s weird.
“You should always do what your grandmother tells you,” Keith said. His smug look was driving me crazy.
“Fine.” I was outvoted. Three pairs of eyes had me in their sight. Gran, Keith, and Floyd. And probably a few others peeking from their front windows.
“I can help,” Keith volunteered.
“With the shirt?” Yes, please!
He rolled his eyes. “The supplies!”
But Mr. Jenson called out, “Keith? I need you.”
“Be right there, Grandpa.”
Gran waved him away. “Go. Ethan’s got this.”
With an apologetic smile and a shrug, Keith disappeared inside. Gran took the cage and what was left of my coffee while I pulled off my shirt and slung it over one shoulder. As I heaved a bag up, I prayed Keith was peering through the window.
Pleased I’d spent so much time at the gym, I didn’t walk across the road. I swaggered and hoped the omega, if he was watching, was impressed. If I’d learned one thing from those soap operas it was, “Do not walk. Never walk.” Back and forth I went, but by the end, the swagger had become a stagger. Sweat dribbled over my chin and chest and dripped off the end of my hair.
“You remind me of someone,” Gran said as she met me at the door, a glass of ice water in her hand.
I sank onto the step, and after chugging the whole glass, wiped my mouth with one arm. “Oh, yeah. Who? One of your favorite characters?”
I puffed out my chest expecting her to say a sexy bad boy on her favorite soap. But instead she said, “Shawn!”
“What? The nose picker! No, do not say that.”
“I was wrong. He wasn’t the one for you. He was always so sweaty when I saw him. Poor guy.”
“Poor guy,” Floyd repeated as I closed my eyes and wondered how the day had gone downhill.
<
br /> Gran’s phone buzzed, and I gasped, “If the wood pickets for the railings have been delivered across town, they’ll have to stay there.” But after peering at the screen, she placed the phone in my trembling hand.
I’ll be over for lunch at one assuming Grandpa’s okay. Keith. I read and reread the text, wondering why he had Gran’s number.
106
Keith
A date. I allowed myself to be set up on a date. Sure, it wasn’t at a restaurant or even a coffee house, it was at his grandmother’s, but still it was a date. I’d told myself I wasn’t going to agree to that. I was going to stand my ground. Things were complicated enough dealing with Grandpa and work. The last thing I needed was to start something I wouldn’t be able to continue.
I was an idiot.
An idiot for a perfect ass, a sweet smile, and a sense of humor.
Floyd. Who has a parrot they take around with them like they would a dog and who teaches said parrot to cuss like a sailor? And why did it amuse me so?
Because of the way he blushed so beautifully causing you to immediately imagine his ass reddening as he begged you for more. Which—whoa! When did I find spankings hot? When I met Ethan. That was when.
“I’m heading over. Are you sure you’re fine with Stella being here for a bit?” Grandpa shushed me and pointed to the screen then to the door. I was taking that as a yes. He had one rule—one. Don’t mess with his soaps, and I’d broken it quite a few times since I’d been there. I didn’t get the appeal, but I didn’t need to. They made his day better, and that was good enough.
I second-guessed my outfit three times as I crossed the street like it was a real date. And it couldn’t be. It was just a nice getaway from the stress of caretaking. I loved Grandpa with all that I was and would do anything for him. He had been there for me when my mom died and helped fill the gap in my heart by doing all the things she would’ve done if she had still been here, as my father was gone before I was born. I owed him everything. Even so, I still needed a break, and a break with a hottie? That would do.
Love at Blind Date Complete Series: Books 1-4 Page 38