by Ella Goode
My door flies open and I scream, picking up my purse and hitting him hard with it.
“What the hell do you keep in there?” my handsome stranger asks, pulling the bag from my hold. I sit here with my heart racing.
“You scared the crap out of me!” I shout at him.
“You’re early,” he responds. I actually don’t even know what time it is. I am so frazzled, but I just left and headed here. Some invisible string was pulling on me to get here. He leans in. I freeze thinking he’s about to kiss me but the click of my seatbelt sounds before he pulls me from the truck, his hand locking with mine.
“I don’t know your name,” I mutter from next to him as he leads me into his home where I will likely be murdered. Okay, probably be stuffed with food but still. I need to at least know his name before he kills or feeds me.
“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”
“Are you holding your name hostage or something?” I peek over at him through my lashes, making him chuckle. He stops walking to look down at me with a smirk.
“Birdie,” I give in, making his smirk turn to a smile. God, the man really is handsome. A trace of a dimple shows in one cheek.
“It fits.” He starts pulling me with him again. What does that mean? I look like a bird? Well, then he looks like a serial killer.
“Is yours Ted then?” I toss back. He looks nothing like Ted Bundy with his blond short hair and dark green eyes. Not only that, he’s almost twice the size of the famed serial killer, but it's the only comeback I’ve got. This time he full-on laughs as he leads me into his home with me still not knowing his name.
Chapter Seven
Nick
I didn’t realize I had doubts she would show up until the relief at seeing her in the driveway made me weak at the knees. I clasp her hand in mine and drag her into the house. I wonder how mad she’d be if I locked her in? Pretty mad, I’d guess.
“Gran. Look who I found in the driveway.”
Gran peers up from her position on the sofa where she’s reading the latest Nora Roberts book. “Pretty, but kind of scrawny.”
“She said I looked like Ted Bundy,” I say in mock distress.
Gran cocks her head and studies me for a second. “He was a handsome man but your hair is too short.”
“It’s true. I don’t like long hair.” I scrub a hand over my close cropped hair. Once it gets past a certain point on my neck, I get the willies.
“I only called him Ted because he wouldn’t tell me his name,” Birdie interjects. She tugs her hand out of mine. I let her go because she’s in my house. For now, just having her in the same space is enough.
“He wouldn’t, huh?” Gran’s eyes twinkle. She’s enjoying this game. “Why don’t you fetch this girl a glass of Red Bull and grenadine.”
Birdie waves her hand. “No. I don’t need that.”
“It’ll grow hair on your chest,” Gran advises.
Birdie’s brows come together because she’s not sure she wants hair on her chest. I’d prefer her tits be smooth, too. “Maybe she’s not ready for the full dose of caffeine,” I say and head for the kitchen to make Gran’s pre-dinner cocktail.
“I, ah, have all the hair I need on my chest,” Birdie says.
I pop the Red Bull open and pour it into the martini shaker. I add the grenadine and a little bit of club soda, but not too much or Gran will be on my ass. After mixing the cocktails and grabbing myself a beer, I head back out to the living room to see what damage has taken place while I was gone. Predictably the two are seated close together, laughing over something in my gran’s hand.
“Those better not be my baby pictures,” I warn. “I don’t want Birdie to start thinking about how cute our babies are going to be when I don’t even have a ring on my finger yet.”
Birdie rolls her green eyes and gives me the middle finger when she thinks my gran can’t see. “We’re watching cat videos on Tik Tok.”
“We should get one of these,” Gran says, waving the phone at me.
“A phone? A Tik Tok account? A cat?” I hand the drinks out. Birdie eyes hers suspiciously while Gran takes a healthy sip.
“Delicious as always,” Gran coos. “My boy knows how to cook and everything. He’s a real prize. Plus, he’s got a big--”
“Gran,” I cut in.
“--heart,” she finishes. “What did you think I was going to say?” she adds with a disgusted look.
“Men always have their heads in the gutter,” Birdie says.
“They do,” Gran agrees. “My Howard, bless him, was always trying to lift my skirts. It didn’t matter where we were, he’d want under it. We went to the Empire State building and even though there were tourists around, he was feeling me up.”
I’m halfway through my beer because this is normal conversation for Gran, but the shocked expression on Birdie’s face makes me realize that I’d better change the topic. “Want something else to drink?” I ask Birdie.
She whips her head around. “No. This is good.” She finally tastes the concoction and discovers that it’s not as bad as she had feared. “How come you’re not drinking it? I thought it put hair on your chest.”
“My chest is fine. You’re free to check it out for yourself.” I pat myself in invitation. Her eyes follow my hand, and then she gives herself a little shake as if to remind herself that she’s not supposed to like me. I cover my grin by draining the rest of my bottle. “I’m glad you came even though you thought I was a serial killer.”
“I mean the jury is still out on that. I just wanted my tampons.”
“Nah, you could’ve bought a new box. They’re cheap.”
“They’re cheap?” she yelps. “They’re five dollars. That’s not cheap.” She starts looking around the small house. “You must be rich.”
“Rich?” Good thing I was done with my beer. My eyes fly to Gran’s, who looks as confused as me. We haven’t given ourselves away, have we? “Does it look like we’re rich?”
The living room is ordinary. Hell, the whole house is. The walls are beige, the carpet is beige. The place came furnished and the sofa is an uninteresting color of oatmeal paired with a walnut coffee table. We added a few plants but for the most part, this place is the same as when we moved in. There aren’t any pictures of our family because, well, this place isn’t home. Home for me is back in Chicago in the house I grew up in--a big sprawling estate up on the North Shore or the penthouse overlooking Lake Shore Drive. Gran’s home is a pretty condo on the edge of a golf course. She doesn’t play golf, but she likes the community. She can go for walks, eat at the clubhouse, and gossip about all the shenanigans that go on inside the gated community. Oh, and talk dirty about all the fun she and Howard got into.
“This place has what, three bathrooms?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So any place with more than one bathroom is rich.” She leans over and swipes the pink tampon box up. “Speaking of the bathroom, where is it?”
I point my finger down the hall. Gran waits until we hear the door close before leaning over. “Maybe it’s not so smart to be hooking up with a girl until you have everything settled back home. What if she discovers you know what?”
“It’ll be fine.” But a rock settles in my gut. What if my uncle did find us? Would Birdie be in danger? I surge to my feet. “I’ll get dinner ready.”
“Just think about it,” Gran calls after me.
There’s no point in thinking about it. I’m not going to stop pursuing Birdie. She’s the one. I just need to figure out the best way to get rid of my uncle, take back my company, and secure a future for my family. Easy, right? I curl my fingers into a fist, stare at the drywall for a long minute and then force myself to relax. It will be easy--as soon as I find the answers.
Chapter Eight
Birdie
What if she discovers you know what? Gran’s words bounce around in my head. Their house might be big but the walls are paper thin. What did that mean? I keep running her words over in
my head, trying to figure out what they could be hiding. My eyes go to his hand as he dishes out my food for me. No ring, nor a mark of one, so he’s not married. I don’t see any pictures of kids around so I don’t think he has a child. This is going to drive me crazy.
“He made this all by himself,” Gran chimes in, breaking me from my internal mystery solving. I’m quickly learning that she has a wicked sense of humor. She enjoys playing around with her grandson but I know she’ll lie for him, too. It’s clear that these two are thick as thieves and loyal to one another.
I should leave. Well, I should have never come here to begin with. I’m not sure why I did, but just like I got into the truck and drove over here, I find myself picking up the fork and bringing a bite of stuffed shell to my mouth. I let out a small moan. This is wonderful. I don’t care who cooked it.
“He can clean too.” I give her a look. She cracks a smile that makes me smile back at her. Damn it. This old lady sure knows all the key points in persuading someone to date her grandson.
“Does he have a name?” I try again. Wait. Maybe there’s a reason he won’t give me his name. At first I thought he was joking around but maybe there is something more to it. What if they are in the witness protection program? Maybe they are on the run from the law. My mind immediately jumps to ten different scenarios.
“Nick,” he gives as he dishes out his grandmother a few of the shells next. He gives me a wink. “You want it on your TV tray?” he asks her. His name rolls off his tongue easily, letting me know that he’s telling the truth.
“This your way of telling me to get lost?” she throws back at him, making me laugh around the food that’s in my mouth.
“Never,” he says as he picks her plate up for her.
“Liar,” she mumbles as she stands. She shoots me a wink that is just like Nick’s. Both of them are adorable. Her words come back to me again as I watch Nick set her up in the living room to watch her show. He stops to kiss her on the top of the head. She reaches out and gives his arm a squeeze. Okay, maybe he’s not a serial killer but he is up to something. Why else would she have said that? He’d brushed off her words but she’d made sure she said them anyway. I think Gran is the type that will always push back. She doesn’t look like one that ever holds her tongue.
When I’d come out of the bathroom, both pretended everything was okay. I guess we were all a bunch of fakers because I’m not even on my period. I used that as an excuse to get away for a minute and collect my thoughts. I bought the tampons because they were on sale. I think I’ve gone temporarily insane. I’m not even sure why I’m here. I take another bite of my dinner because as long as I am here, I might as well finish this delicious meal. Nick comes back to the table after he gets his gran settled.
“You like it?” He smirks as he sits down. Probably noticing that the majority of my shells are missing.
“Did you really make this?” I ask as I take another bite. The food is wonderful. The man stole my tampons so I should at least get a meal out of all of this. That’s what I reason with myself for still being here at least. I should have been out the door as soon as he gave me back the stolen merchandise. More so after hearing their whispered words.
“Gran might have helped.” He reaches out his thumb, brushing it along my chin. “I’m a quick study. Tell me or show me something once and I’ll never forget it.” He brings his thumb to his mouth, sucking it clean from the sauce he wiped off my chin.
“Thanks.” I look back down at my plate that’s almost empty. I don't remember eating half of it. I must have been shoving it in my mouth. What a waste. Nick drops a few more on my plate. ”I can’t eat all that,” I protest. Oh, I can, I just shouldn't.
“I made it for you.” The way he says it all sweet and innocent has me giving in. He makes it seem as though it will hurt his feelings if I don’t eat it all, which has me taking another bite. Damn him and his gran’s tricky ways. I don’t know how they keep getting me to do what they want, but they do. I’ll eat and then I’ll leave. That’s the plan at least. Somehow Nick and his crafty ways have me telling him all about myself. Then Gran has me sitting next to her as she watches Wheel of Fortune. I play along with her while Nick cleans up dinner. I’m actually enjoying myself. I don’t have much company these days. Most of my social time is spent with Mr. Higgins, so this is a nice change of pace.
Nick comes back in with a glass of water and a few pills, handing them to Gran. She doesn't take her eyes off the TV as she takes them from him and downs them. Her words still rattle around inside of my head, but I push the thoughts aside. Look how good he treats his grandma. It’s actually really sweet. I can’t believe that either of them has some shady past that they’re trying to hide.
I don’t know how long I sit on the sofa watching TV but the next thing I know my phone is ringing. I must have nodded off because when my eyes spring open, Gran’s gone and I’m tucked into Nick’s side, cuddled into him on the sofa.
“I got it,” Nick says, untucking me from his side. He opens my purse, digging in.
“Hey,” I protest, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, not sure if what I’m seeing is real. Who just digs through a girl’s purse? That’s personal. I guess we moved past personal when he stole my tampons.
“Got it.” He pulls my cell phone from my purse. “Who is Higgins?” He glares at my phone that’s ringing in his hand. He hits the reject button.
“Hey!” I shout this time as I pop up. I try and grab the phone from his hand. He doesn't want to give it to me. “You’re a real thief. You know that?”
“You stole my heart,” he jokes with a shrug. I tell myself he’s joking. I’ll shove that comment away with the baby one he’d made earlier.
“It’s my boss,” I tell him, reaching for the phone again. “He’ll worry if I don’t answer.”
“You supposed to work tonight or something?” he questions, still not giving me the phone.
“No.” I drop my hand when the phone stops ringing. “He’ll come over here. He knows where I am.” That doesn't help with the look he’s got on his face right now. Is he jealous? Is that what that look is?
“He’s your gran’s age.” I snap the phone from his hand when it starts ringing again. He lets me have it.
“Sorry. I fell asleep watching TV,” I tell him before he can say anything. Nick steals the phone right out of my hand. He really might be a thief. He is quick with those hands.
“Mr. Higgins. This is Nick.” He pauses for a moment. I’m guessing listening to whatever he’s saying. “She is. I had no idea,” he responds.
“What?” How am I the one in trouble? Nick is the one who over-stuffed me with food and it made me fall asleep.
“You were supposed to bring him food back?”
“Crap.” I did tell him I’d bring leftovers. “Wait. That’s what he’s asking?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be sure to give her the leftovers.” He hangs up the phone before I even get to speak to him. I can’t believe Mr. Higgins is only worried about his dinner. He and I are going to have a nice little talk when I get back. “Let me grab them for you.” He tucks one of my loose curls behind my ear like he wasn't just playing keep-away with my phone before turning to head toward the kitchen. His warm touch lingers on my skin.
I really need to get out of here.
He follows me home. I argued with him for a good ten minutes but gave up when he pointed out that he didn’t need my agreement. I got in my car and thought about gunning the engine but instead decided to drive ten miles below the speed limit just to piss him off. Only joke’s on me because Higgins is the one that gets mad.
“What is taking you so long?” Mr. Higgins bellows through the phone when I’m about a mile away.
“Traffic’s heavy.” I reply quickly. It’s his fault. I don’t know the last time I felt so off balance. Maybe it was when my mom took off for Chicago with her boyfriend. I came home from school and she had three bags packed. At least she waited and said goodbye. Since I
was only a few days from graduation, I didn’t need her anymore, she’d declared. She wished me well and then said she’d call. She did...five days later. She’d gotten to the big city and settled in. She was vague about how she was going to earn money and I didn’t ask because even at the age of eighteen, I’d already learned that there were some questions you didn’t want to know the answers to.
She still calls sporadically. About every month or so, more often if she needs some cash. I don’t even know if she’s with the same guy she left with. Mostly, I’m glad to be alone. I have the job Mr. Higgins gave me and it pays all my bills. I might not have a lot left over, but it’s honest work. Sometimes I get lonely, but I have books to read and television shows I can watch or games on my computer. I’ve never been one that needed a lot of companionship so it’s weird how I keep checking my rearview mirror to make sure Nick hasn’t given up on me.
Mr. Higgins is standing in the driveway with his hands on his hips when I pull up. I barely have time to get out of the car before he stomps over and shakes his finger at me. “Girl, I was worried about you. This town is small enough that I can stand here and piss to the other side but you took a half hour.”
“I think something might be wrong with her vehicle, sir,” says a dry voice from over my shoulder.
Mr. Higgins abandons me immediately.
“Who the hell are you?”
Nick doesn’t make Higgins wait like he did me. Instead, he sticks out his hand immediately and says, “Nick Hall.”
To my extreme delight, Higgins looks at Nick’s hand like Nick’s a murderer.
“I don’t know you,” Higgins says bluntly.
Nick smoothly retracts his hand and nods. “I moved here with my gran a week ago.”