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“A few times,” I muttered.
“Other than Keller Strauss, Grady is the most eligible bachelor in the Beard.” Harper’s gaze was locked on him. “He treats me like a little sister, but I’d give my left tit for a shot with him.”
I burst into laughter. “He’s not worth giving up a tit for.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh yes, he is. Did you know he had a serious girlfriend who passed away? It was like ten years ago, and he hasn’t had another girlfriend since.”
Grady struck me as the type who held everything on his shoulders so that nothing bad could ever happen to him. That was shallow of me, though; of course he could be hurt. I suddenly felt bad for being so critical of him. But tragic past or not, he didn’t need to be so abrasive.
“That’s sad,” I said.
“Yeah, he was like twenty-four when it happened. His dad used to be the police chief before him. Did you know that? Also, he wears a size thirteen in shoes and I’ve seen his bulge—it’s the real deal.”
“His bulge?” I cringed. “Was he wearing a Speedo or something?”
“No, his uniform. And I guess it wasn’t a full bulge; it was like a side outline. But it was an impressive side outline.”
“Put some muscle into it!” Grady yelled at one of the boys, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Hit it like you mean it!”
Harper sighed dreamily. “I’ll hit it like I mean it. As many times as he wants.”
I playfully shoved her shoulder. “You’re ridiculous. He’s crankier than any old man I’ve ever met.”
“I’ll give him something to smile about,” she cracked.
“Who are the boys?” I asked.
She grinned at me. “See? You’re interested, too.”
“I’m just making conversation.”
“Sure you are.” She waggled her brows. “They aren’t his if that’s what you mean. He coaches youth hockey. Also hot.”
We weren’t far from him now, and Grady looked in our direction. Our eyes met, but he showed no reaction.
“Aren’t you supposed to be eating turkey?” I asked him, cupping my hands around my mouth and yelling so he could hear me.
“Already did.” His gaze slid down and then back up again. “Nice boots.”
His tone, as usual, carried a note of sarcasm. So he didn’t just want me to get boots, they had to be the exact boots he would have chosen.
“Thanks.”
He shook his head. “Don’t call me when you fall on your ass.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He turned his attention back to the boys, both decked out in hockey gear. Harper smirked at me, her brows arched.
“So you’ve got a thing for him,” she said.
I balked. “What? I can’t stand him. He’s an ass like eighty-five percent of the time.”
“That exchange back there was banter. You guys will end up in bed. Guarantee it. Which, I mean, if I can’t have him, I’m glad you will.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “There’s not even a remote possibility of that happening. It’s hilarious that you think that.”
Pulling my hat down to cover the bottoms of my ears, I glared at her. “I’m not even going to be here for another month, but I could be here for the next decade and not be tempted by him. He may be good-looking, but he has the charm of a rock.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” my cousin said. “And obviously, I want all the details when you’re wrong.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Grady
“Was the lake busy?” my dad asked as he rolled his wheelchair into the room.
I shrugged as I held my hands in front of the fire crackling in the great room fireplace, trying to thaw them. One of the boys who had met me at the lake for extra help shooting had forgotten his gloves, so I’d given him mine.
“About like usual,” I said.
“I had to take a post-turkey nap,” he said with a smile. “I’m not used to getting up that early anymore.”
Dad was one of those guys who had to work hard at retirement. A former Marine who’d spent his career in law enforcement, he liked the structure of a schedule. He filled his days with woodworking, perfecting recipes on his smoker, and when the weather was better, fishing from his dock on the small lake their cabin was on.
After his injury, he and my mom had battled over a few things. He’d won the round about continuing to mow on his riding lawn mower, having it equipped with accessible hand gas and brake pedals; she’d gotten her way about him not ice-fishing in his wheelchair.
He missed it, just like he missed hunting, but one thing my dad excelled at was adapting. He’d taught me and my sister not to get bitter about things we couldn’t change. Life threw curveballs.
“Well, it was worth that 3:00 a.m. wake up,” I said. “That turkey was fantastic.”
“I’m sure your mother will send so much home with you that you’re sick of turkey sandwiches by next week.”
