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At least I’d only have to be out there three days a week for two hours at a time.
“Gorgeous, huh?” Her brow popped in interest.
Oops. I had not meant to let that slide.
“Don’t worry, what he looks like only adds to the repulsion. He’s a grade-A snob, and I will not be crushing on that.”
Snob was going easy on him. Because there was more to that arrogance, something cut under the surface that made him almost…scary. Like he might be capable of dangerous things. And the way he interacted with the little girl? It was odd. Like he was terrified of her and would stand in front of a bullet for her at the same time.
I didn’t get it.
Couldn’t put my finger on him.
And I hated that there was something reckless inside me that drew me toward it. Something that made me want to look closer.
My phone buzzed where I had it on the counter.
I cringed when I saw who it was from.
Jeremy
Would you just call me? I told you I was sorry.
Disgust covered me in a shroud of regret. Like an apology was going to cover it? Like it would ever make up for what he’d made me miss? What he’d stolen from me?
Never.
“Who is that?” Dakota must have seen my scowl.
“Ugh, Jeremy. That jerk actually thinks I’m going to go running back to him. It appears I’m a magnet for assholes.”
“He is the literal worst. Why haven’t you blocked him yet?”
“Good question.” I tapped through a few buttons and made it so before I waved the screen at her. “There. Buh-bye, slimebag.”
Dakota giggled. “One down, one to go.”
I laughed. “We’ll see how this one goes. Now feed me food before I get hangry.”
Dakota laughed, a tease on her voice, “On it, I wouldn’t want my bestie to starve or anything after such an eventful day.”
“The eventfulest,” I mumbled around a massive bite of the raspberry tart she set in front of me.
“With you, it always is.”
I slid my key into the lock and pushed open the door, calling, “Hey, Grandpa, it’s me,” as I stepped into the old house.
“In here,” he shouted back, and a soft smile tugged at the edge of my mouth as I dropped my bag to the floor and tossed my keys on top of it, careful not to jostle the piping hot pot pies that were fresh out of the oven.
I moved through the main living room that was filled with a million memories. It was still decorated the way it’d been since probably the seventies, an orange couch and two oversized chairs to match the orange and brown striped carpet.
Knickknacks cluttered every surface, exactly where my grandmother had left them, and the walls were covered in a mishmash of cheap wood frames of every size, each proudly displaying the faces of the family she had loved so much.
It was hideous.
But that sure didn’t mean I wasn’t pummeled by a wash of affection as I moved through the space. It only hit me all the more fiercely when I ducked through the rounded archway and into the kitchen.
My grandfather was on the other side of it in the small den where he sat in his recliner, his feet up, watching a TV that was as dated as the kitchen appliances.
I set the dish on the brown Formica countertop and moved to him, leaning down so I could smack a big kiss against his prickly cheek. “There’s my favorite guy in the whole world.”
He was one of the good ones, and God knew there weren’t a lot of those.
“How are you tonight?”
His green eyes had grayed around the irises, though they still twinkled as he gave me a lopsided grin. “A whole lot better now that you’re home. What did you bring me?”
“Pot pie.”
He made a show of inhaling the delicious aroma of chicken and spices and the sweetness of the puff pastry top.
“That’s what I thought it was. It smells almost as good as your grandma’s.”
Light laughter rolled from me, though the sound was clouded with the pain of missing my grandma so much. I hadn’t made it back that night when I’d gotten the call that she’d had a stroke.
I’d tried. God, I’d tried. But she was already gone by the time my flight had landed the next morning.
Regret gripped me by the throat, bitter remorse filling me to overflowing.
All because of a dirtbag who in the end hadn’t given a shit about me. And of course, once I was gone, he kept trying to get me to go back to him.
That was not going to happen.
“I’ll be sure to let Dakota know,” I forced around the lump that throbbed heavily in my throat.
“Oh, I’m sure she already does. That one knows what she’s doing.”
“That’s right. Both in the kitchen and in the office.”
