Page 32 of Two For One

“I love meeting the parentals,” O said, the amusement in his voice only made her angrier.

“Ezra, please don’t⁠—”

Maybe if I hadn’t already opened the door I might have listened, but I was curious about the woman who raised Xiomara. Her grandmother raised her brows, looking me up and down with interest.

“Hola,” she said with a smirk. “Is my granddaughter awake or have you left her incapacitated?”

My cheeks grew hot from her scrutiny, and I didn’t know what to say, so I settled for a wave.

“Abuela!” Xiomara rushed to us, guiding her through the door as her grandmother continued smirking at me. “I thought you had plans today.”

“Ah well, they fell through, and I thought I could surprise you,” her grandmother said, raising her brows when she noticed O. “Oh Xiomara, you’ve been a busy woman.”

“Estas bien porqué si necesitas descansar, nomas dime,” her grandmother spoke in Spanish.

“Uh no, I don’t need to rest. I'm fine,” Xiomara said, her cheeks getting redder by the second.

“Buenos Días, Abuela; mi nombre es Oliver. Mucho gusto,” O said, holding out his hand to her grandmother.

“Ah, Buenos Dias. Tu español es muy bueno.” She shook his hand.

“Gracias. Necesito practicar porque si no, se me van a olvidar las palabras,” he said, kissing her hand.

I rolled my eyes that he was laying it on so thick.

Xiomara glared at O, and he smirked back.

“You know what? I’m sorry to intrude, I’m going to leave this pan dulce with you, mija, and I will⁠—”

“Nonsense, I’m making breakfast. Are you hungry or would you like coffee with a pan dulce?” he asked, setting a cup on the counter, already pouring her coffee.

Xiomara and her grandmother exchanged a look, some witchy mind-reading going on before her grandmother smiled.

“I’ll only stay for a coffee and pan dulce,” she said, as Xiomara sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

“Perfect, how do you like your coffee?” O asked, as Xiomara helped her to a stool on the island.

“A good pour of creamer and two scoops of sugar,” she said, getting comfortable.

“Which pan dulce would you like, Abuela?” Xiomara asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Sorprendeme,” she said.

O handed me Abuela’s coffee, and I set it in front of her, grabbing a napkin.

“So, how did you all meet?” she asked.

Xiomara and I froze as Oliver grinned.

“You will never believe it, Abuela,” he said excitedly.

“Yes, please tell my Abuela how we met,” Xiomara raised her eyebrow.

“Ezra and I would see her at the burger joint and well, let’s just say I had to shoot my shot, and not take no for an answer,” he said confidently. “I’m a very hard man to say no to.”

Xiomara snorted as my lips twitched. O was the biggest bullshitter, but in this case, I didn’t think Xiomara would mind. It’s not like we could tell her the truth, that we broke into her home and fucked her granddaughter with masks on.

“So, are you playing London Bridges with my granddaughter?”