Chapter 17
I rushed out of the house the next morning, holding a buttered, reheated pastry from my date with Bryce, ready to hustle to catch the bus. If I didn’t make it in time, it would be another twenty minutes before the next one, and being late was not a good look when I was lucky to have this job.
But once I locked the front door behind me, I stopped dead in my tracks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Bryce Madigan pushed himself off the door of a shiny black SUV and nodded toward the other three cars lining the sidewalk in front of my grandma’s house. “What do you think?” he asked.
“What do I think of what?” I asked, going down the two front steps. A dollop of butter slid off my pastry and landed on the sidewalk. I looked at the sad little glob and then back to Bryce.
He walked toward the first of the cars. A slick red thing with two doors and tinted windows. He rattled off some stats, including the year it was made. It hadn’t even been released to the market yet.
My eyebrows rose.
Then he moved forward to a metallic-gray SUV that had my ovaries humming. The damn things seemed to be overactive around him. Was it possible to be attracted to a car? Because if not, I was defying logic.
“Or, we have a truck.” He gestured at the pearlescent white truck shimmering in the morning sun. “Very Texas.”
A buzz on my watch let me know that I’d definitely missed my bus with this nonsense, and I frowned. “What exactly is going on here? You want my opinion on your next car or something?”
He folded strong arms over his chest and leaned back against the truck, crossing his legs at the ankles. “I don’t want you taking the bus anymore, so I got you a vehicle. Well, three, but the idea is that you pick the one you like.”
My mind had completely blown. “You bought me a vehicle?”
“Three,” he clarified.
“Because you don’t want me taking the bus?”
He nodded slowly. “And I should mention that if you don’t like the color of the cars, I can have it changed.”
I blinked. Hard. “What if my driver’s license was revoked?”
He blinked back. “Well, is it?”
I shifted to my other foot. “No. But what if I didn’t have a driver’s license?”
He smirked, “Then I would have fun giving you driving lessons.”
My mind instantly went to all the things we could do in a car—both in the front and back seats—and I considered pretending that I didn’t know Drive from Reverse.
But I quickly shook the thought. “Bryce, this is nice and all, but I don’t even like accepting a drink from a guy in a bar.
They always expect something in return.”
Understanding filled his expressive blue eyes. “You don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I did this because I hate the thought of you alone on a bus with some lunatic.”
I arched an eyebrow. “A bigger lunatic than a man showing up to my house with three brand new cars telling me to pick one?”
Humor laced his features as he approached me. Then he leaned in, his lips inches from my skin as he whispered, “Maybe you make me crazy, Jada Baker. Have you ever considered that?”
My cheeks warmed, and I was glad my umber skin tone hid how he was affecting me. “I—”
The door creaked open, and we both looked over my shoulder to see Glamma coming outside in her cheetah-print muumuu, a matching silk bonnet on her head.
She held her favorite coffee cup, the one shaped and painted like a rooster, with steam lifting from the colorful ceramic.
“What’s going on out here?” she asked. Then she stared at Bryce, her eyes widening. “Bryce Madigan? Is that you?”
His easy smile fell into place again. “Have we met?”
She came down the steps, the hard soles of her slippers thudding against the cement. “No, I googled you though.”
I stared at her. “You googled him?”
“You were going out with him. I had to make sure he wasn’t a murderer,” Glamma said, like it should have been obvious.
“Smart,” Bryce said.
Then she approached him, extending her hand for him to shake. She was just as regal in a muumuu as she was fully done up with layers of jewelry. “Meredith Baker. Pleased to meet you, young man.”
I half expected him to lift her hand to his lips and kiss it, the charming Boy Scout he was, but he just shook it, grinning at her. “I’ve heard so much about you. And how good your cooking is.”
“Oh, honey.” She was clearly pleased with the praise. “Come over sometime and I’ll make you a feast. You haven’t tasted biscuits until you’ve had mine.” Her eyes tracked to the cars. “What are all these things doing here? Dealership run out of space?”
“Actually, I—” Bryce began, but I quickly said, “He wanted help picking out his next vehicle.”
Glamma pursed her lips, eyeing the vehicles. “You know the red one has some pizzazz.”
“It does.” Bryce’s eyes were shining with... not quite mirth, but something like happiness. It was hard not to like him when he was so kind to my grandma.
“I always thought Jada would look good in something like that,” she said wistfully.
“Maybe one day,” I said quickly before Bryce could tell on me. Glamma would want me to take a car and ask for jewel encrusted seat covers.
Bryce nodded. “Maybe I’ll go with the red one... Jada, would you like a ride to work?”
Glamma clapped her hands together. “That would be wonderful! I get so worried about her riding that bus.”
Bryce gave me a look like, See, I’m not the only one, and I shook my head at the two of them.
She came and gave me a big kiss on the cheek. “Have a good day at work, baby girl.”
“I will,” I promised.
Then she waved at Bryce. “Dinner any time. Let me know and I’ll have the biscuits cooking.”
He dipped his head and then walked to his vehicle, where the engine was already running. I could see Genevieve sitting in the front seat and gave her a small wave. Bryce held the door open for me, and when I got in the back seat, I looked out the window at Grandma.
She was grinning like the Cheshire cat.