Page 65 of Make it a Double

“Haven’t you ever been to the grocery store before, girl? A gallon of milk ain’t $2!” she said, crossing her arms with a huff.

Beckett grinned like a madman as Grams swung her head in our direction, narrowing her eyes. She wasn’t wearing her hearing aids or her glasses, which was just a testament to how many times she’d seen this episode before. It was too late to do anything now other than watch the train wreck occur.

“Sawyer, baby? Who’s that strapping young man beside you? Come here and let me look.”

“Here we go,” I mumbled beneath my breath. “Just act casual.”

Beckett quirked a brow, clearly amused at my utter mortification. “As opposed to… what? Breaking out my favorite graphic tee about my big tits?”

I swear to God, I’m going to burn that shirt the next time I do her laundry.

I pushed Beckett toward Grams’ recliner. “Approach at your own risk,” I said, louder than necessary. “She’s feral.”

“Now I know where you get it from,” he said. Then, because he must’ve been determined to kill me, he shot me a fucking wink as he approached Grams’ seat. Thinking about him in any way other than platonic was an epic mistake, but I couldn’t help but remember the way his kiss made me weak at the knees, or the power I felt at his desperation to touch me.

“You’re a real tall drink of water, aren’t you?” Grams said, studying Beckett from head to toe. “And those curls!” She peered around him to stare me directly in the eye, which was a feat considering the doctor said she was considered legally blind at her last visit. “Your baby is gonna be one cute little sucker.”

Beckett’s eyes lit up. “He definitely will.”

“Grams!” I exclaimed, covering my mouth. She had no idea Beckett was the father. I hadn’t even told her the baby’s father had come back to town.

“I’m old, not stupid, baby. If you’re bringing this young man around, I assume he’s something special.” I stood there, gaping like a fish out of water as she turned back to Beckett. “Now, sit down and tell me about yourself.”

She patted the arm of her chair, and I stifled my groan. At least it wasn’t her lap. I wouldn’t have put it past her at this point. She really didn't care what anyone thought or what was proper. Grams was just grams. Overly eccentric, but that was part of her charm.

Beckett took it all in stride, laughing and taking a seat on the couch next to her chair. He clasped his hands in front of him. “What do you want to know? I’m an open book. I don’t know how much your granddaughter has told you about me⁠—”

She snorted, waving her hand dismissively. “That girl don’t tell me shit. I have to hear everything secondhand, like some nosy outsider rather than her grandmother. Can you believe I had to coax the pregnancy out of her? My god. It’s like she don’t know me at all.”

I took the seat next to Beckett, wishing this couch would open up and swallow me whole. There was never any telling what was going to come out of Grams’ mouth. I couldn’t trust the woman as far as I could throw her, which wasn’t saying much.

“No, gossip in this town just circulates faster than I can process. I was always going to tell you about the baby. I just needed some time,” I corrected her.

I still remember the day I picked her up from the retirement home after she’d spent the afternoon gabbing with her friends. The look she pierced me with had been enough to prompt me into talking. Before we’d gotten home, I told her everything except for Beckett’s name.

We spent the rest of the night curled up in the living room watching old black and white films as I cried with my head on her lap. We hadn’t done that since I was a kid, but it felt the same. Just as comforting now as it was then.

I waited nervously for Beckett to say this was all too much or run out screaming. The poor guy had been through a lot over the past couple of weeks. Maybe, in a horribly selfish way, I expected it because then I could've put the guilt I was carrying to bed once and for all. If he was a horrible guy, this would be easier somehow. I wouldn't feel guilty over the fact that I never planned to tell him he was going to be a father. Instead, I'd know I made the right choice.

But he wasn't that kind of man at all, and I hated myself for wishing he was.

“That’s okay,” he said, reaching over and taking my hand. He squeezed until I met his gaze. “Our girl just needs a bit of time to process things changing. Isn’t that right?”

Our girl. Our son. Beckett was always laying claim to me in some way or another, and the realization had my stomach doing flips. His words and comforting smile were like anchors, keeping my feet on the ground when all I wanted was to let this feeling carry me away.

Grams must’ve sensed the shift. For the first time in my life, she was silent. There was no smartass comment or off-the-cuff remark hanging in the air. She just sat there, a smile carving its way into her features. “Well, I’ll be damned… You’re not just a pretty face.”

“No ma’am,” he said, chuckling. “I’ve got a pretty good head on my shoulders, if I do say so myself.”

“I can see that,” she agreed, nodding. “Good. Sawyer needs someone like that.”

The blush creeping along my skin burned brightly as I sat there beneath the weight of both their stares. “Oh, it’s not… I mean, we’re not a couple or anything. It’s just…” I fought for the right word, trying so hard to redraw the boundary lines to something that felt comfortable. “We’re friends.”

Grams snorted, rolling her eyes so far in the back of her head, I was sure they’d get stuck like that. “Yeah, and I’m the queen of England. Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night, baby.” She reached over to pat Beckett’s arm. “Now, tell me all about yourself, and don’t leave anything out!”

Watching someone charm Grams until she was putty in their hands wasn’t something I thought I’d ever see, but Beckett had done it. The woman was utterly enamored by him. Watching them banter back and forth was more than amusing. It was downright entertaining. I had a sneaking suspicion she’d have made a play for him if she wasn’t happily attached to Harold.

“You’re lying,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “There’s no way.”