Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Eva
The next day, I was surprised Grandpa wasn’t more upset by the robbery.
I imagined he’d be scared to go out, but nope.
We walked down the same street, window-shopping.
We even walked by the Kessler Building and saw Body Canvas and Kessler’s Studios.
I hadn’t been to the gym in a long time.
Maybe if I had, I would’ve caught up to the thief quicker.
Grandpa was in awe of Etched Square, looking up at the four buildings as though he’d never seen modern architecture before.
“These are truly exceptional buildings,” he said, looking proud as though he knew their owners.
I saw tears in his eyes and asked, “Are you crying?”
“I’ve never seen such tall buildings.”
Poor Grandpa. I should take him to downtown Boston or New York City so he could observe more architecture. While I spent time with Grandpa, thoughts about tomorrow’s lunch with Kain occupied my mind, sending a thrill through me.
Today was the day of our luncheon with Kain.
I woke up early, wondering what I should wear.
Ridiculous, right? I couldn’t deny my attraction to him.
But I had to be cautious. A dangerous and mysterious energy surrounded him.
But then again, that could be my mind trying to protect me from getting hurt again.
Gotta take risks in order to gain.
Was I ready to take that risk? My heart pounded as I poured coffee into my cup, walked out to the living room, and sat in the chair.
Grandpa was watching MacGyver again. I watched three episodes with him yesterday—I had been on the edge of my seat when MacGyver used his skills to escape armed robbers and save the other captives.
This show was just as much his entertainment as it was mine.
I’d devoured all the original episodes on my tablet in bed last week, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Thanks for making coffee, Grandpa. What time did you wake up?”
“Welcome,” he said, holding up his fingers. “Four.”
“Why? You can’t sleep?”
“I’m excited about our lunch.” He pressed pause on the remote and beamed at me. “Aren’t you?”
How should I answer this question? I was, but if I admitted it, he’d ask more questions.
“Do you always invite strangers home for lunch back home?”
“I’ve done it twice, but I sort of knew them. They weren’t complete strangers. Don’t you do it here?”
“Why not?” I teased. “I love having people I don’t know in my space.”
“It’s nice to be neighborly. Where I live, we all know each other.”
“But you don’t know Kain.”
“He demonstrated enough for me.” Grandpa placed a hand on his chest. “Intuition told me it was okay to invite him.”
My grandmother used to envy his intuition.
It was as if he had this connection to God, or the angels whispered things to him.
Had Grandpa tapped into his gut when he invited Kain for lunch?
Or had he been under the spell of gratitude?
I’d never been attracted to men with ink, but it suited him, made him more . . . alluring.
If Grandpa liked Kain, then I shouldn’t be too worried about being attracted to him. Would I agree to a date if he asked me out again? A thrill shot through my body at the thought.
Maybe it was time I gave myself a chance at happiness.
“After this episode, I’m walking downstairs to do some stretching exercises with my friend Emilio, and then I’ll be back to start lunch.” He unpaused his show.
Granda had a friend living in the same building but forgot to mention it to me.
“I can help cook.”
“No.” He held up a hand. “Let me treat my favorite granddaughter to lunch. You can sit back and relax.”
I shook my head and didn’t even bother reiterating the fact that I was his only granddaughter. He loved making that comment, and I loved hearing it.
After I finished my coffee, I got up. “Do you want any breakfast?”
He shook his head. “I had yogurt earlier. And I also took my meds. So, no need to worry.”
Since I didn’t have to help Grandpa, I returned to my bedroom and sat at my desk to work on my dream.
It was fun to pretend I owned a flower shop.
I could understand why all those manifestation classes suggested you envision your dream—to dive into the powerful feeling as though it had already happened.
I’d printed out images I loved on Pinterest and put together a scrapbook showcasing everything I wanted in my store: the color scheme, the fixtures, lighting, vases, and even the packaging. Figuring out the details delighted me.
After a moment, my mind wandered back to Kain.
Hummingbirds fluttered in my stomach as I searched for him on the internet.
I clicked on a few images of him in a tank top, working out at his gym.
Tattoos covered taut muscles, like a warrior ready for battle.
He had a gorgeous face with a chiseled jaw, high cheekbones that belonged on models, masculine lips, and piercing green eyes that held secrets I wanted to know.
The bio on the gym’s website said he had a black belt along with all the instructors at his gym.
Several years ago, Kain won several awards for his tattoos. I’d never met anyone so fascinating.
How could I not be intrigued? I understood beauty.
I worked and arranged it at Happy Flowers.
I had a good eye for color, composition, and texture, and I knew what beauty could do to someone’s emotions.
When I created exquisite bouquets for my customers, the joy on their faces told me my arrangements were worth it.
Kain was one of those hardy plants that mesmerized without needing a lot of care.
What got him into tattoos? Did he attend art school? Maybe he took a class at Framingham State University, which was his alma mater. What else was he skilled at? My loins tightened at the thought. He was an eligible bachelor most women wanted. Why did he want to date me?
My phone pinged with a reminder that I had an hour before Kain’s arrival. Where had all the time gone?
Rushing to my closet, I rummaged through my selection, which wasn’t large. I hadn’t shopped for myself in a while because the money had been put into my savings for the store. I settled on a casual cotton dress. Then I spent too much time putting on makeup and finished with a spritz of perfume.
I looked in the mirror. Satisfied with the dress, I spun around, loving the flowy skirt.
I left my hair down, adding to the casual look I was aiming for.
Walking out to the kitchen, I found my grandfather wearing my yellow apron, humming while he cooked.
He stood with his back to me, and I cherished this moment more than he could ever know.
The doorbell rang, and I went over to the monitor, saw Kain smiling on the screen, and buzzed him in.
I opened the door, and his powerful energy wrapped around me, causing goosebumps to rise all along my arms. My body zinged with a boost I couldn’t stop craving.
“Hello.” He raked his gaze up and down my body. “You look nice.”
Kain wore dark jeans with a black knit top that showed off his muscular chest and bulky arms. Powerful green eyes pinned me to the spot, and I wanted to run my fingers through his shaggy dark brown hair.
My eyes slid to the ink on his neck. Tattoos had never looked more beautiful to me than they did on Kain.
He smirked as though he knew I was staring at him.
“For you and Grandpa Collins.” Kain handed over a box of cupcakes from Can’t Top This.
“You didn’t have to bring anything.” I moved out of the way, inviting him inside. “You’re the guest.”
“You’re treating me to lunch, so I should bring dessert. It’s been a while since I’ve had a home-cooked meal.”
“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Grandpa Collins popped into the hallway, approaching Kain. “What do you normally eat?”
“I live alone, so I don’t need to cook.”
“A big boy like you needs to eat healthy to stay strong.” Grandpa patted Kain’s arm and led him to the kitchen.
“Have a seat and get ready to eat.” Grandpa smiled and returned to the stove.
I took out the cupcakes and displayed them on a pretty dish.
Kain slid onto the stool, watching Grandpa move around the kitchen like the expert chef that he was.
“I did the math,” Kain said. “It comes down to the same amount of money spent. If I bought groceries and didn’t cook them in time, they’d spoil, and that’d be a waste. There’s an International Food Court not too far from here. I can get delicious meals at an affordable price.”
“There’s no food court where I’m from. You’ve been spoiled.” Grandpa mixed up the salad. Their conversation continued as though they’d been friends for a long time.
Later, I’d ponder the casual way Kain had slid into my day, into my home, onto my kitchen stool—into my life.
“Would you like anything to drink?” I asked. “We have beer, orange juice, lemonade, coffee, and water.”
“Beer, please.”
I placed a Samuel Adams in front of him, and he popped off the top, lifting it to my iced coffee. “Thank you for lunch.”
While I retrieved the plates out of the cabinet, Kain and Grandpa carried on a fascinating conversation about relationships, piquing my interest. Grandpa didn’t even know Kain.
He just met the guy a couple of days ago.
So why was my grandfather asking for his opinion about a perfect date?
I stared at them for a moment. I couldn’t remember the last time I witnessed two men talking about this kind of stuff.
Kain met my eyes, and the amusement told me he understood what I was thinking. Despite that, he didn’t seem bothered by my grandfather’s questions.
“You like smart women with ambition.” Grandpa held up a bottle of salad dressing. “That makes you a wise man.”
Kain laughed. “Gotta have standards, you know?”
“Got that right, son!” Grandpa fist-bumped Kain.