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Rainier snorts a laugh. “Alright then. Who’s the lucky girl, brother?”
“Red Jones,” I say without hesitation. “And she’s my overwhelming obsession right now.”
“Red Jones?” Ansel cocks an eyebrow. “The only Jones I know that lives around here is... is she related to Lydia Jones?”
“Who’s Lydia Jones?” I reply.
“One of the great American authors of the twenty-first century. Literary fiction writer, and she’s always popping up in places like the New York Times. She’s filthy rich. Like, hundreds of millions, flirting with billions rich.”
“You suggesting my Red is related to this Lydia Jones?” I rub my chin. It would explain the mansion that she lives in. And Red did say she wanted to focus on her writing.
“Possibly.”
“Doesn’t seem important. I want Red, Ansel.”
He shrugs. “Might end up out of your league. Crumble Diary is lucrative and all, but not Lydia Jones literary empire lucrative.”
“If I love her and she loves me I don’t care if she comes from billions or if she lives in a cardboard box.”
Ansel lets out a laugh. “It should be that simple. But family never lets it stay that way, Hood. I wish you luck if you’re going after Lydia Jones’ heiress.”
I look at the ring. This is all so stupid. Even if her family objected, Red would still choose me, I told myself.
I told myself that, but the doubt is there. And I think I love her enough to not want to tear a girl from her family.
Love’s so complicated sometimes, even if falling in love is so fucking simple.
8
RED
Grandma coughs up a storm,and I give her some tissues. She sounds bad, but she’ll pull through. She’s a tough old woman, way more than most give her credit for.
“So what kept you?” She says, taking a drink of water to clear her throat before speaking.
“I was getting coffee, Grandma.”
“Coffee doesn’t delay you that much, dear.”
“I...uh... was really savoring every last drop of it.”
She gives me an incredulous look. “Red, you know better than to keep lying when you’re caught red-handed.”
I blow out a breath. She, just like my Mom, is way too good at calling me out on my bullshit. “Alright, alright, you got me. I met a guy when I was walking back from the store.”
I decide to leave the part about running away from a wolf out. It’s hardly why I was late, and I didn’t want to worry grandma more if I had to take another walk into town.
“A guy, you say?” She smiles. “Tell me more.”
“Well, uh... he’s hot. And what you kind of expect for a man from Linesworth.”
“Hunky, broad shouldered, thick beard?”
“And the kindest eyes and a warm smile.”
“Yep, that’s a Linesworth mountain man all right.”
“We really hit it off. We went back to his place.” I decide I’m also going to omit all the naked times together out of embarrassment, and I don’t think Grandma wants to hear those explicit details anyway. I’m still her darling little granddaughter after all, she probably thinks I’ve never been kissed. “We had coffee there, so I totally did have coffee. It was nice to warm up out of the cold.”
