Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Maeve
G ram lives in the country back in my hometown. She’s the person I’m closest to in our family, and life in general. Saturday mornings are coffee and donuts with Gram. It’s been our tradition for a while. I pick up donuts from our favorite bakery and take them to her house for us to share over a pot of coffee.
I let myself in the through the garage door and call out, “Gram! I come bearing gifts!”
The smell of fresh brewed coffee greets me as I enter the kitchen to find – not Gram. “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Gram? Gram!”
Nicholas Deschamps sits at my grandmother’s kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a smile. He looks devastatingly handsome. And by the way his eyes are lit up, the jerk knows it. Before answering me, he takes his time sipping his coffee. “I was invited.”
“Little Bit! You made it!” Gram steps into the room perfectly fine, and full of sunshine.
“I have,” I deadpan while staring at Nicholas. “I see you have company. Thought you knew better.” I tilt my head. “Vampires can only come in if you invite them, Gram.”
Completely unaffected by my snippy remark, he says, “That’s only a myth.”
“Nonsense, you two. Sit down, Little Bit.” Gram gestures toward the vacant chair next to Nicholas.
I put the box of donuts on the table. To my horror, Nicholas opens it first. He extends it to Gram, who beams at him as she takes one. I brought those donuts and they’re not for him! There’s no use saying anything. I take my seat and am assaulted by his intoxicating scent. The magnetic pull. My brain can’t function at full capacity with him this close. I don’t know how to feel about him being here. I’m thrilled to see him but also terrified. The dangerous criminal, who lives several states away, is sitting in my grandmother’s kitchen. A sliver of sanity comes to the forefront of my mind.
“When did you get here?”
Nicholas crosses his leg, placing his left ankle on his right knee. The gleam in his stupid gorgeous blue grey eyes is really starting to annoy me. “Today.”
“Today,” I repeat. That means he can’t be my stalker. “Why are you here?”
“I’m building a casino. Or did you forget?”
“Here in my grandmother’s house, asshole.”
Gram gasps. “Language, Little Bit.”
The moron chuckles because me being scolded is hilarious. Never mind this manipulative opportunistic weasel has the audacity to show his face here with his stupid shit eating grin.
She takes a donut and places it on her plate. “Now, I left something in my room and called the hotel. Mr. Deschamps was such a dear to return my call himself.”
“Do you personally call all guests for lost and found items?” I glare.
“Only special ones,” he tells me and then boldly licks the donut glaze from his finger.
“You’re too kind, Mr. Deschamps.” Gram is practically swooning.
“Now, Ethel. We agreed we’re past the formalities. I believe it was after a few shots of Pink Cadillac Pussies.”
My jaw drops. “What about his language?”
Gram reaches over and pats my hand. “That’s the name of the drink, dear.”
“Asshole is his middle name,” I quip back. “And what is he doing calling you Ethel?”
“Nicholas and I became very well-acquainted in Vegas.”
“But not as acquainted as we did, Little Bit.” He winks. He actually winks. “Speaking of, I’m eager to try your pie, Ethel.”
This son-of-bitch. “You keep your mouth away from her pie!”
“She offered it over the phone. That’s why I’m here. I told her I was coming to check on construction progress. And who am I to refuse a beautiful woman’s pie?”
The way he leers at me. The nerve of this guy. Gram starts to get up, and when her back is turned, I mouth, “ That’s my grandmother! ”
Nicholas grabs the leg of my chair and slides me closer to him. He leans forward and whispers in my ear, “I’m not going to devour Granny. Your sweet cherry pie is the only one I’ll be eating.”
Every nerve in my body comes alive as I register his strong hand against my upper thigh. I want to give in to the urge to touch him, but I know I shouldn’t. My grandmother believes she’s invited a nice man into her home, when really, she’s just allowed the big bad wolf inside. The question is why is he here? I don’t believe his lies for one second. I could tell her the truth, but I don’t want to upset her. More than anything, I want to protect her.
I nod. “I’m going to play nice, but as soon as Gram steps out of this room, I’m stabbing you with a kitchen knife.”
His gaze drops to my lips and then lifts to my eyes. A wry smile on his gorgeous face. “I deserve that for not calling to warn you I’d be in town. But then again, where’s the fun in that?”
“So you knew I was coming here.”
“Absolutely. I only gamble when I know I can win.”
“Then it’s not really a gamble, is it?”
“It’s a safe bet.”
“Well, you can bet that before you leave here, you’ll regret ever showing up.”
“Bet.”
I hate him. I reluctantly turn my eyes from his hypnotizing ones to see Gram watching us. This is awkward. She places a plate of pie in front of each us. “Oh dear. Your coffee is low.”
“I don’t even have any coffee,” I grumble.
Gram chuckles. “I’ll get you a cup, dear.”
She places an empty cup on a saucer in front of me. Then she goes and picks up the pot of coffee. First, she fills up Nicholas’s and then leans over to get mine. That’s weird. Gram would never lean over someone. A howl of pain comes from Nicholas.
All down the front of his shirt and his pants, Gram has poured coffee. “Oh fiddlesticks! I’m terribly sorry. I lost my balance.”
I cover my mouth with my palm as I stand up so fast the chair falls over. “Gram, grab some towels!”
“No, it’s too much. Let’s take you in here.”
Gram tries to pull Nicholas up, but he protests. “Really. I’m fine. I was starting to feel a slight chill anyways.”
“Nonsense. Now get.” She points toward the guest bedroom.
He stands to reveal that his white shirt is already turning a cream color and his navy pants are wet from the waist down to the knee. Ouch. Gram just doused the man. I can’t help but smile because this is karma. My sweet gram would never do something like this on purpose.
A few seconds later, Gram returns carrying Nicholas’s clothes. “Hurry. I’ve got him naked and waiting for you.”
“I don’t know which part of that sentence was more disturbing,” I croak.
“I’m old but not blind. Now go get him. You’re welcome.”
“Gram.” I strive for patience. “I can’t go get him.”
Gram shrugs and holds up the wet clothes. “Sure you can. He ain’t goin’ nowhere. Unless he wants to wear some of my clothes.” She snickers. It’s in this moment that I realize my gram is a dirty old lady.
“Did…” I narrow my eyes. “Did you purposefully spill hot coffee on him to get him out of his clothes?”
“I left my scarf, too. I wrote my number inside of it and hid it. Then I called the hotel telling them where it was. I knew Mr. Deschamps would call me back.”
“ You orchestrated all this.”
“Took him long enough to return my call.”
“I have to go apologize for accusing him.”
“I have some ideas on ways to earn his forgiveness. I used to do them to Pappy.”
I’m going to vomit. “If you love me at all, you will stop talking.”
“Well, that’s hurtful.”
“My ears are hurting. Never speak to me about Pappy in that manner again, Gram.”
She rolls her eyes and then shuffles on to the laundry room. “I’m going to drop these in the wash and go to the store.”
“What? You’re leaving?”
“I’m not going to listen. Then my ears would be hurting. I want great grandbabies, but you’re still my little bit.”
I stand there in shock and humiliation as my gram throws the clothes in the washer, starts it, and then walks out. Idly, I wander if those were supposed to be dry cleaned. A moment later, I hear a low voice. “Um, hello?”
Shit.