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Chapter 31
Every loaf of bread is a tragic story of a group of grains that could have become beer but didn’t.
Pack a bag.
Pack a bag? Why does Grayson want me to pack a bag? Confession – I’ve kind of sort of been avoiding Grayson since we decided to start our relationship. Not at Hailey’s wedding. No, Hailey’s wedding was awesome. Except for the bouquet toss stunt. Grrr. But after? It’s been the avoidance game all day, every day.
I’m not trying to be a bitch. That shit happens all on its own. No, I need time to wrap my head around the idea of being in a romantic relationship with a man again. Apparently, my silence is not deterring pushy man Grayson.
Why?
Do as your told.
Do as I’m told? Has he not met me?
I’ll make it worth your while.
Little Susan wakes up from her weeklong slumber and cheers. Make it worth our while! Make it worth our while! Good grief, she got the pompoms out. I tell her to put the damn pompoms away and go pack a bag.
Gee. I hope he cleaned his place. I am not staying there unless he’s learned what a vacuum cleaner is since the last time I visited. Oh, stop your judging. I’m not a complete clean freak. Just in case, I pack an additional bag with some cleaning supplies and equipment. Huh. I really proved my point there, didn’t I?
The doorbell rings thirty minutes later. I saunter to the door. Oh, who am I kidding? I skip to the door and fling it open.
“Hey, stud muffin.”
Grayson shakes his head before leaning down to gently brush his lips with mine. I chase him when he pulls away all too quickly. “Sorry, Munchkin. We’ve got somewhere to be.”
“We do?”
He doesn’t respond and instead picks up my bags from the spot next to the door where I left them. He grunts when he lifts them. “What did you pack? The kitchen sink.”
“Just some cleaning supplies. In case…”
He drops the heaviest bag. “You won’t be needing them. Come on. You ready?”
I eye the bag with my cleaning supplies as I walk to the door. Is he saying he cleaned his apartment? I know military men are supposed to be disciplined with cleaning, but my experience at his place says otherwise.
Grayson takes my hand and leads me outside. “Stop dillydallying.”
“Dillydallying? What are you? My grandpa? Who says the word dillydallying anymore?”
He doesn’t respond as he escorts me to his truck. Once we’re settled, he starts up the vehicle and we’re off.
“Where are we going?” I ask when I notice he’s headed for the highway.
“I’ll tell you where we’re going if you tell me why you’ve been ghosting me all week.”
“I haven’t been ghosting you all week.” I am such a liar.
“I guess I won’t tell you where we’re going then.”
I switch the radio on and fiddle with the station for a few minutes in the lamest attempt ever to stop myself from asking him where we’re going. It doesn’t take long before I’m begging. “Please, please, please. Tell me where we’re going.” I flutter my eyelashes and everything.
He snorts. “Are you trying to look innocent? Did you forget I know you’re anything but innocent?”
I collapse back in my seat. “Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?”
“Maybe it’s a surprise.”
