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.
What was going on here? I still couldn’t get over the fact that my grandfather was discussing the ideal date with Kain. But I loved how Kain made Grandpa laugh. Laughter was a form of healing.
We sat at my round kitchen table and enjoyed Grandpa’s meatloaf, a side of sweet potatoes with sriracha and lime, bacon-wrapped asparagus, and a spring-mix salad.
Kain had a second serving of everything. “This is the best meatloaf I’ve ever had.”
“That’s my specialty.” Grandpa cooked better than anyone in my family; even my grandmother and mom couldn’t match him. But that was because they didn’t have the same passion for it. It was a blessing to have a chef in the family.
Grandpa sipped his lemonade and said, “Tell us more about your work, Kain.”
“I’m a tattoo artist who owns a tattoo franchise and a gym. The Kessler Building is mine. My friends own the other three.”
I remembered reading about that in his bio. Kain Kessler was a billionaire whom many women wanted to date. What did he see in me?
“I like how the four buildings create the Etched Square,” Grandpa said.
“We’re proud of our space.”
“You should be.” Grandpa’s face brightened. “It’s an amazing accomplishment.”
“I’m also a trainer.” Kain flexed an arm, and my stomachlurched at his massive bicep. “I enjoy helping people get into shape.” He turned to me. “If you or your grandfather want to learn some self-defense, I can teach you.”
“Eva should learn.” Grandpa grinned at me. “I’m too old. Eva can bemybodyguard.”
I chuckled but considered Kain’s offer. Learning to defend myself was something I’d always wanted but never had the time for. The world had become more dangerous and unpredictable over the years.
My eyes trailed down his firm form. “Are you supposed to be eating the way you do? You even had a cupcake.”
“I’m not that strict about my diet.” Kain smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. “I burn all the calories off quickly. I’m not training for any bodybuilding show. Staying fit keeps me healthy. And it keeps the upstairs sane, you know?” He tapped his head.
“When you deprive yourself of certain things, you crave them. Balance is good. Look at me.” Grandpa pushed his belly out and rubbed his head. “I’ve gained twenty pounds, and I couldn’t be happier.”
“Your metabolism slows down with age.”
“Sure does.” Grandpa’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “You seem to have a good head on your shoulders. How old are you?”
