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The door flung open and a tiny woman with short, dark hair came barreling out.
“Grampy!”
Maeve stilled and stared at her.
Grampy? She was the one who’d nicknamed Gray Grampy?
Hmm. Suddenly, she wasn’t feeling so worried.
“Baby girl, what are you doing, running outside like that?” A deep voice grumbled at her. “We’ll have a chat about that later.”
A handsome man stepped up beside the small woman. He wrapped an arm protectively around her middle and the woman half-disappeared behind him, which puzzled Maeve. She hadn’t acted like she was intimidated by Gray when she’d first spotted him. So why was she acting shy now . . .
Unless it was because of her? She was concerned about Maeve?
That was just silly.
The other man studied her with icy blue eyes and she gulped heavily. What was he thinking? Did he think she wasn’t good enough for Gray? Then her gaze moved lower to what he was wearing and she grinned.
“Oh my God! I love your sweater!”
Both of them stared at her.
“It’s so awesome. Where did you get it?”
Gray cleared his throat and she glanced up to find his lips twitching. “Yeah, Markovich, where did you get such a good-looking sweater?”
“I knitted it.” The dark-haired woman stood taller. “Hi, I’m Dahlia.” She gave Maeve a small smile.
Maeve returned her greeting with a giant wave. Then she moved quickly up the steps until she was in front of them.
She heard Gray sigh behind her, but she ignored him.
“You didn’t!” Maeve said.
“I did.”
“But it’s so good.”
The rest of the tension in Dahlia eased. “I know. I’m really good at knitting.”
“You so are. I really like the colors you chose too. Brings out the colors in his eyes.”
“That’s exactly what I said.” This time her smile was more natural.
“His eyes are blue,” Gray muttered. “And the sweater is pink. How does that bring out the color of his eyes?”
The sweater was more like a pale red. And in black, the words, “The Boss,” were written along the front. The letters were all crooked and one arm appeared to be longer than the other, while the neck was a real mess. Ragged and frayed.
It was gorgeous.
Maeve shook her head, sighing. “It’s sad the way he can’t see it, isn’t it?”
“So sad,” Dahlia agreed.
They smiled at each other.
“I like your toy dog,” Dahlia told her.
