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She probably would. “There are children at the house,” I remind all of them for the umpteenth time.
“Kids like my—” he pauses, “actually never mind. I heard it and that’s just weird. My abs are rated G for grandmas.”
Baylor squeezes my knee with a promise that he’ll be right back and is gone before I even have a chance to protest.
I rub my fingers over my temples as James argues, “Rated G is for general audiences, you nitwit.”
“Torryn, what’s your grandma’s name?” Beau asks and I shake my head. I’m not telling him just so he can flirt with her. He’s going to give her a heart attack. It’s not good for her health.
“Millie,” Isla answers happily.
That asshole. I turn to her astounded at the audacity. “The betrayal.”
She smacks my shoulder, giggling in the way she does when she wants me to forgive her. Not today. They are all dancing on my very last nerve. “Come on, Tor. You know she’s going to love it.”
Of course she is. My grandma is a cougar. Unabashedly so. I miss my grandpa for many, many things, but his ability to reign in her crazier side is probably at the top of that list. “Beau, if you send my grandma into heart failure, I will castrate you.”
He smirks, shimmying his shoulders and pretends to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “You think my looks could kill? Thanks.”
I catch sight of Baylor heading his way back to the truck and breathe a sigh of relief. When he opens the door he hands me a gorgeous bouquet of sunflowers, baby’s breath, with white and orange roses. I look back at the grocery store he came out of. “They had these?” They seem so nice and bigger than the pre-wrapped bouquets you can usually get.
He scratches his chin as he backs out of the parking space. A sure sign he doesn’t want to answer. I stay silent, staring at him and waiting him out until he finally caves. He always does. “I might have called and ordered them ahead.”
I blink rapidly. “When?”
“Right after you invited us,” he mutters, the tips of ears turning red.
I don’t have anything to say to that. It’s…thoughtful. More so than just picking up any flowers he saw. My chest feels a little weird as I study his profile.
Beau nudges me from the other side. “He wanted to impress your grandma,” he says in a sing-song voice.
“It’s harder to do when he has to keep his shirt on.” I scoff, turning back to look at James shocked.
“You too? Really?” And here I thought he was the mature one. If this car ride has taught me anything, it’s that none of them are the mature one. Not a single one.
He gives me a sheepish smile. “Look how nervous he is,” he defends. “He’s begging to be teased.”
Wells nods his agreement from the back. “He even asked what I thought about his outfit today.”
“You already said that,” I snap, before sighing when it just makes them laugh harder. I’ve already heard about how Baylor changed his outfit three times and kept asking Wells what hethought about each one. For the record, he looks great in the dark jeans and gray henley he chose. Though, as the guys keep pointing out thanks to Isla, my grandma would in fact, prefer the shirtless option.
Unfortunately, for all of us, as fun as his abs are to stare at, I’m not explaining the bite sized bruises over his chest and stomach to my baby sister or my little brother. I also really don’t want to have to endure my grandma catcalling him.
I run my hand down Baylor’s arm, feeling how tense he is. “Are you really that nervous?”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Of course not. Why would I be?” His hands tighten around the steering wheel as he turns down the street I grew up on. “Just meeting a friend’s family. What’s weird about that? Nothing. Nothing at all. Absolutely nothing to be nervous about. Just Thanksgiving with a friend. And her not weird family. I’m fine. It’s going to be totally fine.” He finishes the very convincing argument that he’s not nervous with an awkward laugh.
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.
Beau is wheezing at my side and I’m pretty sure Wells is wiping tears from his eyes as he repeats, “Her not weird family,” before cackling like a loon.
Baylor parks the truck outside my house and I don’t think he’s even aware of his friends anymore. He looks at me with panic in his eyes. I lean up and kiss his cheek in reassurance. “If you get nervous, just hold my hand. Okay?”
He nods and I turn back to glare at Wells where he’s still laughing. “Just so you know,” I start and wait until he stops laughing. “My grandma practically raised Isla as well.” I flick my eyes down to his button up shirt. “And she thinks button ups are pretentious and only men who don’t know how to fuck wear them.”
His mouth drops open as he stares at Isla. Now who’s panicking, bitch? “Is that true?”
Isla nods, her own sheepish expression on her face as Wells turns pale.
