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“Reagan is on bedrest. Absolutely not.”
“Ma-am, I—”
All right. I had to put him out of his misery. He hadn’t started this well at all, and knowing Aunt Bethel’s track record, it wasn’t about to get better.
I got to the bottom of the stairs just as Aunt Bethel slammed the door shut in Noah’s face.
“Bethel!” Mom gasped.
“Oh, my God!” I cried, jumping down the last two steps. “Aunt Bethel! You can’t slam the door in people’s faces!” I darted past both of them and yanked the door open. “I’m so sorry.”
Noah’s lips twitched to one side. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Aunt Bethel.” I looked at her pointedly.
“What?” She jerked her chin up in defiance and crossed her arms over her chest, her bangles jingling against each other.
“Don’t you have something to say?” Honestly, teaching toddlers manners would be easier than convincing this old woman to use ones she already knew.
I assumed she knew them.
I hoped she knew them…
“Jesus,” Mom whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Do you know this man?”
“You say it like he’s a stranger from some back alley.”
“For all I know, he is.”
All right, I wasn’t exactly selling him either, was I? “Mom, this is Noah. Noah is the firefighter who carried me out of the apartment block.”
Her eyes went wide, and horror flashed across her face. She staggered backward, clutching her hands to her chest. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” she demanded of Noah.
Noah cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. “Forgive me, ma’am, but that’s not usually how I introduce myself to people.”
“Oh, he’s a smartarse.” Aunt Bethel shoved in front of me and Mom and glared at him. “When did you meet?”
Noah glanced at me. “When I rescued her from a burning building, ma’am.”
“Do I look old enough to be called ma’am to you? That’s no Southern accent on you. You weren’t brought up to ‘ma’am’ people.”
Oh, fuck me dead.
This was a terrible idea.
“Actually, my grandma was born and raised in Louisiana,” he said quickly. “She heard me call a woman older than me ‘miss’ and beat my ass until I apologized and addressed her as ma’am.”
Aunt Bethel looked him up and down. “Mmm. What are you doing here? Are you courting my great niece?”
Courting?
“Mom!” I shot her a look that said, “Get this crazy woman away from the hot guy at the door.”
This was why I could not live with my family.
I was twenty-six. I could handle my own stuff, and I certainly didn’t need my eighty-year-old great aunt asking if someone was courting me.
“Okay, Bethel, that’s enough.” Mom finally stepped in and pulled her away from Noah. “Reagan, maybe you should both stay here. I’m not sure you’re up to—”
“Mom, if I didn’t feel well enough to leave the house, I’d be in bed.” I touched her arm. “I appreciate that you’re worried about me, but I’d like to go out. For an hour. It’s just lunch, and I’m not alone.”
Mom hesitated.
Aunt Bethel narrowed her bright-pink lined eyes at us, her clumpy mascara forming a black curtain so thick it was a wonder she could see past it.
“Besides,” I said brightly, stepping closer to Noah. “He saved my life once already. He’s not going to let anything happen to me, is he?”
“I—”
“Plus, buying him lunch is the least I can do,” I went on. I knew I was wearing her down because she was running out of things to say. “He saved my life, Mom. What’s an hour of my time plus a burger and some fries?”
“And a lie down in the back of his truck,” Bethel sniped.
“Mom!”
Mom flapped her hands. “All right, all right!” She took a deep breath. “Bethel, that was inappropriate and you’re being rude. Reagan, if you really feel like you want to go for lunch, you go and have your lunch with the nice man,” she finished distractedly. “Be home by ten.”
Aunt Bethel opened her mouth to protest, but Mom ushered her off toward the kitchen before she could say anything else to potentially insult Noah.
“I am so sorry,” I said, turning and meeting his bright green eyes.
His lips curved to one side. “Nah, your mom was right. I should have led with the whole ‘saved your life’ thing.”
I rolled my eyes. “God, don’t. I need to run upstairs and grab my phone and stuff—I’ll meet you in your truck?”
“I can wait here.”
“We don’t know this man!” Aunt Bethel trilled from the kitchen. “What if he’s here to kidnap her?”
“On second thought,” Noah said, taking a step back. “I’ll wait in my truck.”
I grimaced and nodded once. “I would.”
His little smile became a sexy half-grin, and he jumped down the steps to the front door backward, then spun and headed for his truck.
I left the door open as I did my own spin and darted up the stairs. I needed to get in and out and quickly as possible before Bethel made a break for it and tried to offend Noah even more.
