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“Granny!” Ash snaps. “That’s enough! You’re not being helpful. You’re being a cantankerous, nasty, nosey old lady. Plus, you’re the cause of all our problems, so I wouldn’t get all hot and bothered about us taking a liking to you at the moment.”
“Hot and bothered?” Granny titters. “I’m not the one hot and bothered.”
Ash turns scarlet from his chin all the way to his lovely, dark hair.
“Anyway, are you prude?”
I realize the sooner I answer, the sooner we can start talking about the curse, at least I hope, and it means I can get to bed shortly after that, which is what I truly want. Oh, and a shower, in which I will not do naughty things to myself while thinking about Ash, wishing he could—whoa nelly, what the heck is going on with you, brain? Are you in there? Yeah, you’re there, but what did you do with my good brain that didn’t think foul thoughts every other second of the day? Can I please have my good brain back? Oh no! What if the curse has infected my gray matter? Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.
“N…no,” I stammer, just to interrupt my own panic. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Good.” Granny appears very smug at that. “Then I can discuss dating details with you. All my grandchildren are too grossed out to imagine that love can blossom at any age.”
Ash shoves his hands over his ears, proving her right.
Granny cackles. “See? Anyway, I met a guy at a gardening club last month, and we hit it off.” She pumps her hips wildly, and my mouth drops open. “Too bad I don’t have any cursed items to tell if he’s my soulmate or not. I gave them all way to my ingrate grandchildren, who made a pact against them, which was technically a pact against love and all my hopes to see them happy. I don’t understand it, really, I—”
“Granny!” Ash adds a heaping amount of champagne to one glass, pours in a splash of orange juice, and sets it down on the island in front of his grandmother.
“What? If you’re going to lecture me on finding love at my age or tell me love is impossible at any age, then please take your angst-riddled person out of this kitchen. Make yourself useful and order a pizza. I’m starved. Oh, you don’t want to order pizza? Well, that’s too bad. I’m not talking about the curse until I get some pizza.”
“I’m not ordering pizza,” Ash grunts. He pulls back an entire glass of champagne and chugs that shit straight up—I don’t know how because those bubbles would shoot right up the nose. “And you’re going to spill everything you know about this curse because you got us into this mess, and we badly need out of it. We don’t know each other, and we don’t even like each other. This is all wrong. I do blame you for it, and I do think you meddle too much. I do love you, but—”
“No pizza, no talk of curses!” Granny stomps her foot. She’s wearing four-inch black pumps to match her dress. I have a feeling she’s going to some swanky event after this, and that’s why she’s dressed up. On a weeknight.
Whatever.
So, Ash’s granny is winning points with me by the second. But so freaking what?
“I’m. Not. Ordering. Pizza.”
“Well then…” Granny shrugs, downs her glass of champagne faster than Ash did, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and treats him to a grin. “Have a great night, you two lovebirds. I’m off.”
With an airy wave of her hand, Granny strides off, walking like she’s on the red carpet in those heels and her gown. Her elegantly curled hair swirls around her shoulders like a gauzy cloud as she leaves. Ash chases after her, but all I hear is him begging, then the door opening and closing. A few minutes later, he comes back to the kitchen, utterly defeated.
“Holy shit, what just happened?” He looks like a crazy storm just rolled over him, and I think I must look the same too.
“Granny. Granny just happened. Now you can fully appreciate how potent the curse is.”
“Uh, yeah. I think I can.” I walk over, drink the one remaining mimosa in a few sips because I’m not as talented at chugging it back as the Cromwells are, and head out of the kitchen. “I need a shower. And to go to bed. Goodnight, Ash. Thank you for all your help today with my dad.”
“But not with the curse.”
I have to hide my grin by turning my face away. “No. Not with the curse.” I can’t let him see that I actually liked his granny. And I don’t want him to know that I might be softening when it comes to him too. Bad things come from being soft and letting people in. I mean, not always, but it would be bad if I went all soft and gooey and let Ash in. In both a figurative and literal way.
