“Of course,” she said with a frown. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because he yelled at you?” I asked.
“He didn’t yell. He spoke with authority. I spoke back.” She shrugged. “And it’s only out of love for you that both of us got heated at all.”
I fell silent.
The back door slid open, and Brooks appeared on the deck. “Poet?”
I left the fire circle and went to him.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me inside and closed the sliding door. “Your grandfather wants to talk to you.”
“More?” I asked in exhaustion. “There’s more?”
“He has some questions about the wedding,” he whispered. “I thought you might want to take that one.”
“He asked about the wedding date? That’s an improvement.” I sighed. “You guys didn’t talk for very long.”
“Neither of us minced words. He asked about my time in prison, and I told him.” He paused. “All of it.”
“You did?” I asked in quiet surprise. “Your road name, too?”
“Yep.”
“Bold move.”
“Your grandfather’s no ordinary man, Freckles. He’s been to war. He’s seen things. Done . . . things. So I knew I could level with him.”
“And then what happened?” I prodded.
“He stared at me for a long moment and then asked about a wedding date.”
Tension inside of me began to unfurl. I inhaled a deep breath and followed Brooks into the den. Brooks sat at one end of the couch; my grandfather on the other. I took the spot right next to Brooks and leaned into him.
My grandfather’s eyes tracked me, but he said nothing.
“So, you want to know about the wedding,” I said.
“Yes.”
“We were thinking spring,” I said.
Grampy said nothing, but his eyes bored pinholes into me.
“Spring, so Hadley and Salem can imbibe and have fun. And it’ll give Wyn enough time to work out her schedule,” I explained.
Grampy still said nothing.
I squirmed in my seat.
Brooks brushed a kiss to my forehead. “Wyn’s back here the week before Christmas and Hadley’s due date is Christmas Day. I think we can squeeze in a wedding before she gives birth.”
I shot Brooks a glare. He kept his gaze trained on Grampy but gave me a comforting squeeze.
Grampy’s mouth curved into a smile. “December’s good. December’s real good.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
