Page 31 of Grumpy

George Hunter had been the exception to her usual, but both of them had been so busy, it was a wonder either remembered they were even dating. Kelly was only sorry that relationship had ended because it had been the first time in so long that Kelly had felt cherished by a boyfriend—that was, when he’d been available.

Being with Grumpy didn’t feel like dating. It hadn’t from the moment he’d kissed her in the diner. It felt like life, like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. She knew without a doubt that Grumpy was the sort of man she’d always wanted and craved. The sort that would put her first. She wanted those chivalrous rules in their relationship, like the sidewalk rule, the coat rule, and the stairs rule.

And she knew without a shadow of a doubt because he’d already been doing some of them for the past decade. Without prompt, without any gratitude, without hesitation.

But what if she’d built up their relationship, being with him, so much in her head? She wasn’t concerned about his current limitations. She was very aware of how he’d gotten them and didn’t blame him for a second. And those limitations wouldn’t be forever, so she knew that wasn’t the hold up.

Grumpy’s hand on her thigh flexed lightly, bringing her attention over to him in the passenger seat. Kelly glanced over at him, breaking her internal ranting. She had no idea how long they’d been idling in front of the gate, but damn, the man had silent patience because it felt like a while.

Kelly put her Yugo into Park and then turned in her seat to face Grumpy. Her car was small, but felt like a fricken clown car with him crammed inside with her. “I love you,” she repeated, needing that to be known. “But I’ve loved you from afar for so long that I have to wonder what finally being with you is going to be like. It’s like meeting a celebrity or your hero. They say not to meet them because they never measure up to your expectations. What if I’ve built you up in my head and heart so much that you’re completely different once I get to know you? And I mean, really get to know you. Like your favorite color and time of day and what music you like or what songs you sing in the shower. What if you have this really annoying thing about you that I don’t know about now and I find out later? What if it’s a dealbreaker for me? I don’t want to mess this up, Grumpy. I am terrible at relationships. Like just really fucking awful,” she added with a cringe. “You feel permanent, Grumpy. You feel right. But the truth is, we’re still practically strangers. What if you turn out to be a total asshole and break my heart? Or worse—what if you discover I’m a total bitch and break yours?”

Grumpy stared at her long after Kelly finished ranting. Kelly fought to catch her breath, her cheeks flaming at the knowledge that she’d once again word vomited on him.

Rather than answer her, though, Grumpy pulled his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up an app Kelly didn’t recognize and typed in a series of numbers. The gate in front of them beeped once before slowly moving, like a feline hunter opening its maw.

Kelly stared at the road in front of her and then back at Grumpy, rather annoyed. “Really? You have nothing to say?”

“Not here.” He pointed forward. “The answers you’re looking for are in there.”

Kelly’s eyes landed on the clubhouse in the distance. Frustrated and annoyed, she righted herself in her seat. She understood that maybe talking in her car in front of the closed gate was not the best time or place, but he could at least say something.

Feeling slightly vindictive, Kelly removed his hand from her thigh as she started forward. The road dipped downward, leaves and morning dew blanketing the green lawn on either side of them.

Grumpy immediately moved his hand back to her thigh.

Frowning downward, Kelly quickly returned her eyes to the road, grabbed his wrist, and moved his hand back to his own thigh.

Like it was magnetized, his left hand once again landed on her right thigh.

Kelly scowled at him as she rounded the slight curve into the large parking lot before the clubhouse. Seeing no other cars at the front, Kelly claimed the spot closest to the double doors so he didn’t have to walk too far.

“Stay.” While the order came quick, almost clipped, Grumpy’s movements were…not.

Kelly turned her head in time to see him take his seat belt off and open the passenger door. Then watched as he moved at a snail’s pace to swing his legs out of the Yugo, scoot forward on his ass to grab the door handle, attempt to stand, realize he wasn’t close enough to the edge of the seat, scoot his ass forward more, push up on the door handle, and shakily get to his feet. He paused for a moment to gather his balance before shifting to his right and closing the door. His steps were slow but steady as he made his way around the front of her car and over to her door.

It would have been comical if she didn’t know the extent of his injuries and what he was still overcoming.

As soon as her door was open, Grumpy held his hand out to her. “Coffee and purse.”

Kelly shook her head, having no idea what was happening. But still, she handed the travel mug he’d prepared for her up to him and then her purple with pink seams oversized carryall purse. He took both, leaving her hands free to get out of the car.

It was…sweet, in a completely unnecessary sort of way.

Still, she was annoyed enough at him for ignoring her word vomited concerns that she informed him, “I could have done that all on my own. Been doing it for years, you know.”

“And now you don’t have to.” Grumpy’s expression didn’t change, though that might have more to do with not wanting to irritate his skin grafts than a lack of emotion.

Though he handed her back her coffee and purse, he watched her like he wanted to verify she actually had them. Kelly frowned at herself. Her mom often accused her of being too independent. But she was also thirty-eight and extremely single. If she didn’t do things, no one would. Yet, she knew she wanted the sort of man who would help her, let her lean on him, do things like open doors for her and carry things for her.

Crap. Was this the start of it? Her terrible track record of failed relationships hinted that it might be. What if her independence cursed her, making her so annoyed by Grumpy doing things for her that she grew to resent him?

Kelly suppressed a groan. It was far too early in the morning for this sort of mental breakdown. She was still working on her second cup of coffee, which, she reminded herself, Grumpy had thoughtfully prepared for her.

They moved together towards the glass double doors at the front of the clubhouse. Rumor had it that the double doors used to be a heavy wood, but they’d been destroyed when Sheriff Hannigan, the town’s interim sheriff after Sheriff Longhill retired before Carlos took up the mantle, broke them down in the middle of Lucky’s fortieth birthday party. That was four-ish years ago to Kelly’s recollection.

She paused without reaching for the handle, knowing Grumpy would want to hold the door open for her. He did, easily guiding her inside.

Though the large front area was empty, it didn’t feel stale. The clubhouse pulsed with life and laughter, the remnants of the family built here, not of blood but of circumstance. From the floor littered with kids’ toys to the messy couch cushions to the winter coats hung up on the wall rack to the smell of vanilla and cinnamon heavy in the air. This place didn’t need to be filled with people to feel like home.