“Thanks, Wess.” The way she says my name is like a kid on Christmas morning.
“This is the kitchen, obviously. I stocked the fridge with some of your favorites.”
“Are you serious? That was so sweet.” She goes over and opens the refrigerator and then beams back at me. “You remembered the pickles.”
“How could I forget about something so weird?”
“Once you have them with peanut butter you won’t eat them any other way.”
“I’ll take your word for that.” Some of my muscles are relaxing, but there’s one between my legs that is only getting harder.
“Did you get these too?” She goes over to the dining table and checks out all the board games. It feels silly now, but when she said she liked them I got excited because I do too.
“Yeah, it was no trouble. I had them at my house and just brought them over.” Why am I second-guessing everything?
Probably because I was expecting Dame Judi Dench, and instead I got Mila fucking Kunis. She walks around the table and then over to the living room and points to the stairs.
“Bedroom?” she asks, and I nod.
I point out the hall bath and guest rooms as we go, and then the master. Thankfully it has an attached bath that’s been redone. My old room was in the loft that’s now been converted into a playroom.
“You used to live here?” she asks as I place her duffel bag on the bed.
“Yeah, when I was a kid. This was my grandmother's house.”
“That’s the one you came back to take care of, right?”
I nod. Sometimes I forget how much of myself I’ve already shared with her. “Yeah, I bought the house next door because it was a better layout for her. She uses a cane, so I made sure she has a first-floor bedroom with an easily accessible bath.”
“That’s so sweet.” Her words are genuine, and it makes my chest tingle.
Seeing her in this bedroom makes it feel hotter. I should check to make sure the air is working. Maybe it has nothing to do with that and everything to do with the woman that I’d put in the friend box tearing her way through it. For so long I didn’t see her like this and now I’m rethinking every email we’ve ever shared. She hasn’t changed, but suddenly I’m seeing it all so differently.
“Feel like some dinner?” I ask, and she nods excitedly. “They’ve got the best fried chicken east or west of the Mississippi.”
“That’s a bold statement, Mr. Holland.” She smirks as she brushes past me, and I’m not ashamed to say I watch her ass as she goes.
Damn, that woman has a body made to hold on to.
“I’ll drive,” I say when we go outside, and she follows me over to my car. My grandmother is on the porch and waves to us. Instinctively I take Shelly by the hand and nod my head in that direction. “Let me introduce you.”
“I’d love that.” Her cheeks redden, but I feel her fingers give me a squeeze.
We walk up the path, and I let her go ahead of me when we get to the steps. “Hey, Grandma, this is the woman I was telling you about.”
“Shelly, it’s so nice to meet you.” She stands up and to my surprise she pulls Shelly into a hug.
“Mrs. Holland, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Shelly says, and my grandmother holds her at arm’s length as she looks her over.
“Honey, call me Opie, and you are nothing like Westley described.” She cuts her eyes at me, and I shrug.
“I got that feeling too.” Shelly looks over her shoulder at me and winks, and damn if it doesn’t go straight to my cock.
“Do you want to go into town with us for dinner?” I ask my grandmother, and she shakes her head as she sits back down on the swing. Just then Sarah comes out with a tray.
“Mrs. Opie and I are going to have a picnic,” Sarah says and places the tray on the table between them.
“We’ll let you get to it.” I take Shelly’s hand, and once again I feel that little squeeze from her as we go down to my truck and I hold the door open for her.
After I get behind the wheel and begin to drive out onto the road, Shelly turns to me with an expression I can’t quite read.
“What?” I ask, and she smirks.
“You’re not at all what I expected.”
“That makes two of us.” I smirk, and she smiles so big those damn dimples shine. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yeah,” she says quietly and nods. “Yeah, it’s a good thing.”
Chapter Three
Chapter 3 Wess
* * *
“Holy shit, that was good.” Shelly rests a hand on her belly and leans back against the seat.
“Told you so.” I smirk, and she does it right back.
“Okay fine, you were right.”
“I like hearing you say those words.”
She shakes her head as she reaches out and grabs my fork. Without asking, she scoops up some of my mashed potatoes and takes a bite.
“Damn, those are incredible too.” She takes another bite, and I grab her hand to stop her from taking a third.
“You’re going to eat all of my potatoes?” I tease, and she nods around a mouthful.
“Sure am,” she answers after she swallows. “Move your hand.”
She playfully nudges it out of the way, and I push my plate closer to her. I don’t know how a woman so tiny can eat so much, but I’ll give her every potato in the state if it makes her this happy.
“This makes me miss the town I grew up in,” she says after she scrapes my plate clean. I flag the waitress down, and she brings the list with today’s pies on them.
“I didn’t know you grew up in a small town.” I nod to Shelly so she can order what she wants, and she gets one of everything. I try to hide my smile, but it’s no use as she practically bounces in her seat with the anticipation of pie.
“Yeah, I lived with my aunt out in the sticks. The town only had one stop sign, but it was probably the best childhood anyone could have given me. I lived with her and three of my cousins after my mom died.”
“Damn, I’m sorry,” I say, and I truly am. I know what it’s like to not have parents in the picture.
“Thanks, but I was a baby and don’t remember her. My aunt has always been like a mom to me.” She shrugs and drinks her sweet tea. “But yeah, it was actually a lot like Pink Springs. We had a trailer by a lake, and we spent every moment we could in the water. I learned how to fish and kept a turtle as a pet. Most of my favorite memories are in that small town.”
“So what made you move?”
“Art,” she says simply. “My high school art teacher was amazing and encouraged me to apply for scholarships. She even wrote me some incredible recommendation letters that went a long way. I applied for art school and got some scholarships. It helped launch my career.”
“Sounds like you had a lot of good people in your corner.”
“I really did. During art school I got into tattooing, and my work grew from there. I did an apprenticeship for five years at a studio in the city, and my popularity built just by word of mouth. It’s part of the reason I keep my face off social media. I want people to see the art and not the artist.”