Chapter 12
Bryn
Stirring my first cup of coffee at the kitchen island in the main house, I brace myself when Gran’s footsteps pad across the hardwood floors. There’s no way the first words out of her mouth will be about anything except my date yesterday.
I touch my finger to my lips, still feeling the press of Wyatt’s mouth there, even after all these hours apart.
He never did catch me at the end of that first match, and he made good on his promise of three kisses during the short break between games.
So good, we missed the first few minutes of the second game.
“What is that?” Gran asks.
Lost in my thoughts and picturing Wyatt when he found me during the second battle, the delight in tagging me before kissing me senseless, I forgot she was on her way in here.
Glancing up from the counter where I’m still stirring a very stirred coffee, I lift my eyebrows. “What’s what?”
“That smile.”
My head tilts and I drop the smile that was, indeed, lighting up my entire face. “Nothing.”
“Liar,” she says, sweeping further into the kitchen, her ankle long, red silk housecoat billowing out behind her and her blue nightgown. Grabbing a cup out of the cabinet, she pours herself coffee from the fresh pot I made. “That smile said you were dreaming of something. Or someone.”
Caught red-handed, my cheeks instantly heat, and I give her my back, moving through the kitchen and into the dining room.
It gives me a moment away from her scrutinizing gaze to try and cool my face.
Sliding into my seat at the table, I look over the current puzzle we’ve been working on.
A five-thousand piece that makes me smile.
A turtle, deep in the ocean, swimming around an abundance of sea life.
“You made a lot of progress on Crush,” I call to Gran, pulling one of my legs up to my chest, foot on the white cushion of the high-backed chair. We’ve only been working on it for a few days, and she already has the turtle’s head nearly complete.
“Someone had to,” Gran says as she joins me at the table, her sass evidently strong this morning. “He’s not going to build himself.”
I hide my smile behind my mug.
“C’mon, favorite grandchild. Spill.”
Scoffing, I roll my eyes. “Laying it on a little thick this morning, aren’t you?”
One of her shoulders raises. “Catch more with honey than vinegar.”
“And the sass? What does that fall into?”
“Everyone loves a little sweet and salty treat.” Her eyes dance with smug amusement.
It makes me laugh. I knew she’d hound me for details, but it’s fun to watch her work for it.
Just a little. Truth is, I’m kind of dying to tell her all about it, but I also don’t want to get myself too excited.
I still have my priorities—work and Gran—but after a very successful first date, I’m wondering if Wyatt can’t find a place within them.
School used to be a priority, but with that finished now, maybe I do have more room on my plate than I thought.
“It was wonderful. Lots of people at laser tag,” I tell her casually, eyeing a puzzle piece I think will fit with another. When it doesn’t, I set it back down, my eyes searching the board.
“Don’t toy with me,” Gran says, leaning forward on the table. Without looking at her, I know her attention is focused solely on me and not anywhere near the turtle or his friends. “I don’t care about them. I care about that man I saw drop you off.”
The same look she caught me with earlier crosses my features.
It’s like I can’t help it. One date and countless ridiculous memes later, and I’m a little smitten.
He’s kind, and sweet, full of life and fun.
He doesn’t look at me like he’s waiting for me to give him something.
Or like he wants anything from me but laughter and playfulness.
Which would concern me and make me wonder if he can be serious, but then I think of the attention he gave me after the man at the bar yelled, and the way he drove me home.
Or the night on the dance floor when he seemed to sense something was wrong.
He’s a little bit of both—fun and serious—kind of like the delicious sweet and salty treat Gran was talking about. Popcorn and chocolate. Cheese whiz and raspberry jam. Bacon with a little syrup drizzled on it.
It’s clear I haven’t had breakfast when my stomach growls.
“You’re doing it again,” Gran says. “You’re all dreamy. Reminds me of the way I felt about your grandfather when I met him.”
My eyes snap to hers, my stomach swooping. “Stop.”
She wears a knowing smile, trying to hide it by sipping her coffee. “Tell me about yesterday.”
This time, I do. I ignore the puzzle completely, sitting back in my chair, recounting the entire evening.
First the laser tag, and how at the end of three games, I came out victorious.
I’m still not sure if he let me win or if he was too busy hunting me to take things seriously, but one day I’m going to challenge him to a rematch.
Then I tell her about the dinner we had. I thought maybe he’d take me to a fancy restaurant, but it was so much better. We found doner’s from a food truck, then sat and watched the sunset on the cliffs above one of the biggest surfing spots in Santa Rosé which was still swimming with surfers.
He wondered if Brody might be among them, but I told him I doubted it. The place we were at didn’t have the kind of waves Brody liked. They weren’t big enough. Not dangerous enough.
“You’re glowing,” Gran says when I finish telling her how we drove around for hours after that, listening to country music and singing at the top of our lungs in old blue Betty.
It was hands down the best date I’ve ever been on.
I shrug, setting my cup down before wrapping my arms around the leg that’s still up on the chair. “I like him.”
“Good.” Gran nods her approval, her responding smile soft, all traces of her earlier sass long gone. “That makes this old woman’s heart happy, Bryn. You need someone like this in your life. Someone fun.”
My attention darts to the puzzle. “We have lots of fun, Gran.”
“We do. But one day I won’t be here to have fun with you,” she says gently. A reminder that I don’t need. “Someone needs to make sure you keep living for far longer than I can provide fun.”
Tears burn the back of my eyes, and I take in a slow, measured breath to keep from showing the emotion on my sleeve. I do it as quietly as I can so she can’t hear it, but she probably knows anyway. It’s not like she’s dying tomorrow. There’s nothing even wrong with her.
There was nothing wrong with my grandpa, either, when a stroke struck, killing him when neither Gran nor I were home.
He looked fine when I left for an afternoon date, squeezing my cheek and telling me he hoped this was the nice young man he always wished for me.
It was bad enough to lose him, but to see Gran go through the pain of losing the man she’d loved her whole life was something else.
It’s still disorienting to think how he was fine, and then he wasn’t.
When I’m sure the tears are no longer threatening to fall, I push a smile on my face and bring my gaze back to her. “Well, that’s not something we need to worry about right now.”
“No, sweetheart, it isn’t.” Her hand reaches over and covers mine on my leg, giving it a squeeze. Then she gets up, taking both our coffee mugs. “You have time for another?”
“For you, Gran? Always.”
Nothing would stop me from having another cup of morning coffee with her.