Jerking on a pair of ratty sweatpants that hung below the waistband of his boxers, he jogged down the stairs. Rounding the corner, he headed into the kitchen. “Babciu?” Walking barefoot and bare-chested, he yawned widely while scrubbing one hand through his hair and the other scratched his stomach. Seeing his grandmother sitting at the table, he grinned widely. “Sorry I slept la—”
He blinked in surprise, his feet stuttering to a halt as he realized she was not alone. A young woman was standing near the table, her eyes wide as her gaze moved from the top of his sticking-straight-up hair to his bare toes and back again. His gaze was feasting on her in the same manner. Her dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail at the base of her neck. Her face appeared makeup-free, but her skin was luminous, and a healthy pink graced her cheeks. Her red t-shirt and blue jeans showcased her curves, and red slippers encased her feet. But as his gaze moved back to her face, it was her eyes that held him captive… deep blue… almost purple. Her pink lips parted, and the tip of her tongue barely peeked out to moisten her bottom lip.
“Benjamin!”
The sharp calling of his name jolted him from his perusal, and his attention shot toward his grandmother, whose lips were pursed as though he’d been caught sneaking a snack before dinner. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered quickly.
“You can see I have a guest. She comes over when she can to check on me and to make sure I have what I need. She even brings groceries. I was just telling her about my grandson who is now here to help but had no idea you’d make such an informal appearance this morning.”
Realizing his state of undress and unkempt appearance, he felt the rare heat of blush rise over his face. Living and working with his SEAL team for years, he hadn’t given a thought as to what he looked like first thing in the morning when he rolled out of bed. Hell, half the time he’d slept in what he’d worn that day when on a mission. Even at the apartment he’d shared, he’d often walked out to one of his teammates saying goodbye to whatever half-dressed woman they’d picked up the night before.
Shit! He watched the woman’s lips roll in, pressing together into a thin line, but was unable to tell if she was irritated or stifling a grin. Uncertain if he cursed aloud or in his head, he offered a quick chin lift as he mumbled, “Sorry. Excuse me.” Turning, he walked out of the room toward the staircase, forcing his feet to go at a normal pace instead of trotting, determined to hang onto some semblance of dignity.
Upstairs, he pulled on a clean T-shirt, kicked off the sweatpants and jerked on a pair of jeans, slipped his feet into his boots, and ran a comb through his hair. Glancing into the mirror, satisfied that his appearance would now meet Babciu’s acceptance, he jogged back downstairs. The woman must be a hired aide but his grandmother had not mentioned anyone coming over. Wondering if the beautiful woman would still be in the room, he reentered, breathing a sigh of relief to see she was now sitting at the table.
Babciu grinned as he poured a cup of coffee and walked over to the table, nodding her approval. “Much better. Now, Violet, let me introduce you to my grandson, Benjamin.”
Reaching across the table, he took her hand, noting the fragile feel of her slender fingers. Almost delicate. And yet as she shook his hand, he also felt strength. “Violet, it’s nice to meet you. Please, call me Ben.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.”
Now, he was struck with her voice. Soft, almost lyrical. And yet with an undercurrent of mirth. His gaze never left her face until he noticed she dropped her gaze to their still-held hands. Reluctantly letting go of her fingers, he cleared his throat and sat quickly, hoping to hide his immediate reaction. Usually able to control his cock, he tried to remember the last time he got laid. Hell, it wasn’t that long ago. But looking at Violet, he had to admit, his last date—well, more like pick-up—had not been with anyone as elegant as she. He’d become tired of the bar scenes, but after their last mission, he’d felt restless and thought a romp between the sheets might do the trick. All it did was leave him feeling more restless and ready for a change.
“Benjamin!”
Blinking again, he jerked his gaze back to his grandmother. “Sorry, Babciu. What did you say?” Blushing again, he wondered if having red cheeks was going to be a permanent condition around this woman.
Anna looked toward an obviously amused Violet and shook her head. “What must you think? My grandson comes down half-dressed. And now when I talk to him, I might as well throw peas against the wall.”
Casting a glance at Violet, he grinned at her wide-eyed expression aimed toward his grandmother. He chuckled and leaned closer. “She means I’m distracted. It’s an old Polish saying.”
Violet held his gaze, her smile still in place. “I… oh… I’ve never heard that.”
“Peas don’t stick to a wall—” he began before his grandmother interrupted and finished.
“And my words don’t stick to him!”
Now, it was Violet’s turn to laugh as she leaned her head back. Ben watched as the light coming through the kitchen window glistened in her dark hair and her eyes lit, their purple-blue hue mesmerizing. He wasn’t sure if she was a homecare nurse that his grandmother hired to assist but hoped she would continue to come often.
Violet tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Oh, my… I love that saying. I’ll definitely have to use that on my kids. Half the time I think Lily and Charlie never listen to me!”
Jolting as though a bucket of cold water was dumped on top of him, Ben leaned back in his seat. Whoa… kids… married. He’d known a few guys over the years who would have gone for her anyway, but that wasn’t his style. Time to push the attraction that had been clawing its way over him back into the box. Giving his head a little shake, he nodded politely and stood. “Babciu, I’m heading to the home store to get some supplies to begin working today. Violet, it was nice to have met you.”
With that, he placed his mostly-full coffee cup into the sink and headed back upstairs.
By the time he fiddled with his list for the first round of renovations and came downstairs for the third time that morning, he breathed a sigh of relief to find his grandmother alone in the kitchen, her back to him as she washed out their coffee cups. He opened his mouth to speak until she twisted her head and peered at him over her shoulder, spearing him with her glare.
“Benjamin… you were rude to Violet. She’s a good neighbor and has often come over to check on me. I did not raise you to be rude to a lady, and I cannot imagine the military taught you that, either.”
She’s the backyard neighbor… damn. “I’m sorry. I just had a lot to do today and figured the two of you might want to… um… talk… or something.”
She didn’t reply but her gaze was still narrow. Making a hasty exit, he gladly left the house to get to the home supply store before she took him to task once again.
Once there, he relaxed as he walked up and down the aisles. He’d made a list but decided to peruse the store for more ideas. When his grandfather updated the house years before, he’d accomplished a remarkable job, but with time, some of the renovations were outdated. Struck with a memory of wandering hardware and lumber stores with his grandfather slowed his steps. Looking around, he wondered if he could make a living renovating old houses. Well, I’ll find out by the time I get finished with this home. He thought of the licensing requirements and determined to look them up that evening.