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“If it’s so great, why don’t you move there?” Nana asked. “Bunch of old people sitting around playing pinochle. There’s a reason I never wanted to move to Palm Springs.”
“That bad, huh?” Caleb grabbed a seat beside Carly to eat some of the chips and sour-cream dip Nana had set out for them. He enjoyed listening to Nana and Carly spar. It was like watching Ali and Foreman fight—they were pros.
“Everyone is so wrinkly. It’s disgusting. But on the plus side, I’m getting laid left and right.”
Caleb choked on his chip, which made Nana laugh.
“Don’t encourage her,” Carly said. “Honestly, Nana, nobody wants to hear about your sex life.”
“Tough. It’s my duty as a feminist to talk about it. The media perpetuates terrible stereotypes about mature women’s sexuality, like it’s a crime to want to get some if you don’t have perky boobs anymore.”
“Forget I said anything,” Carly muttered.
But Nana was on a roll. “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m neutered.” She wagged a finger at Carly. “And it sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m going to put on one of those ugly red hats and go on cruises with a bunch of biddies.”
“No?” Caleb asked, having recovered enough to reach for another chip. “I could see you having a good time on a cruise. You know they have open bars, right?”
“Oh, yeah?” Nana’s eyes softened as she forgot about the lecture and started imagining herself on a cruise. “You think I could find myself a boy toy on one of those ships? A rich one who’ll spring me from the home?”
“I think if you find a boy toy, he’s going to be after your money. If you want a rich one, you’ll have to settle for wrinkles.”
Nana sighed. “Story of my life. I can have hot or rich, but not both.”
Caleb winked at her. She walked up behind the couch and squeezed his biceps experimentally. “I think I’ll go with hot. You free, sweet cheeks?”
“Oh my God, shut up, both of you,” Carly said, flopping back onto a pillow.
Caleb laughed, and his phone chirped to tell him he had a text.
It was from Ellen. Done working soon. You like Bogart?
Another one came in immediately after the first. Come over. Bring chocolate sauce.
“Sorry, Nana. I have other plans for the night.”
Nana read over his shoulder and whistled. “I should say so. Is that from Ellen next door? Sweet, quiet, legs-up-to-here Ellen?”
“A gentleman never tells,” Caleb said, tucking his phone away and wishing he’d been discreet enough not to look at it within twenty feet of Nana.
“What’d she say?” Carly asked, sitting up straight again.
Nana ignored her. “You’re a lovely boy, Caleb, but you’re no gentleman.”
“No? I thought I had the whole officer-and-a-gentleman thing going.”
“C’mon, what’d she say?” Carly begged.
“Nah, you have the battle-scarred-soldier thing going. Don’t worry, though. It’s better.”
Caleb smiled. “Thanks. I think.”
“One of you has to tell me,” Carly said.
“Good night, ladies.” Caleb was already heading for the door.
He had to make another run to the grocery store, but this time, he didn’t mind.
Chapter Seventeen
