“Hookups on set then?” the same man asks. “What about a sex scene? I’m sure your sausage popped up.”
I glance at Posey, who’s no longer grumpy but looks as if she’s enjoying watching me in the hot seat. “I didn’t get a hard-on because I didn’t like my costars. It really is acting. Trust me when I say there’s nothing sexy about filming a sex scene.”
“I don’t buy it. I’d be all over their asses,” a balding man says.
“Shut up, Al. You know as well as I do that you struggle to get it up, even with the blue pills,” another woman says.
“Not when I was his age. Hell, why is he here on a Saturday night? I’d be out chasing tail.”
“Why don’t we ask Gavin about the acting process?” Leeann places her hand on my knee, and I stiffen a bit. “And they wonder why I have to give them a sex talk.”
I laugh and my gaze veers to Posey, who doesn’t look happy again.
“Because that’s boring.” The man who spoke uses his cane to get up. He flips me a condom. “Put that to good use and come back and tell me the story.”
I catch the condom, shaking my head.
“Where are you going, Isaac?” Leeann asks.
“If you must know, Leeann, I’m going to watch porn and pleasure myself. Aren’t you glad you asked?”
I raise my eyebrows at Leeann, and she smacks on the fakest smile.
“Rowdy bunch here?” I ask.
“You can say that again,” she murmurs. “Is everyone done for the night?”
People start to stand and leave, retiring to their rooms.
“I’m a really big fan, Gavin. I could probably ask you a million questions, but I have to clean this up and make sure everyone is settled in before I can relax for the night. Are you staying in Lake Starlight?”
I shift in place. Leeann is cute. She’s got that girl next door vibe like Posey, which is my go-to type. But I glance over my shoulder at Posey, who’s quietly arguing with Ethel over something that she’ll probably lose, and I know where my heart is. “No, Sunrise Bay.”
“Oh, our enemy. I actually live in Greywall, but if you’re ever bored and want me to show you what Alaska has to offer, give me a call.” She scribbles her phone number on the back of a safe sex pamphlet and hands it to me.
I put it in my pocket and smile, not wanting to make her feel bad that I have zero interest in calling her. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“Gavin!” Dori shouts as if she’s my grandma and I just stole a pack of gum at the supermarket.
I walk away from Leeann, back to the three of them. “What?”
“We have limited time to get you in there.”
“Man, you are gifted. Picking up women at retirement homes too?” Posey crosses her arms.
“Jealous?” I hope like hell she is.
“Never.” She stomps forward, following Grandma Ethel through the building.
We turn down a corridor and around one more corner. Where the hell are they taking us?
While Dori is the lookout, Ethel uses the key to open a room at the end of the hall. Once the door opens, Ethel pulls us inside. Dori follows and lightly shuts the door, looking the entire time to make sure no one sees us.
They turn on the light and Posey looks up at me at the exact time I look down at her.
One bed. The dynamic duo strikes again. Figures.
“No way.” I walk closer to Grandma Ethel, but there’s not enough room in here for me to get her alone. “I know you probably want to fix us up, but seriously, the whole one bed thing? Come on.”
Her eyebrows crinkle. “One bed thing? I’m sorry, I just… you need a place and…”
I’ve never known Grandma Ethel to be at a loss for words.
“You mean you’re not planning some fix up between us?” I give her my most ardent stare.
She puts her hand on mine and squeezes. “I never want to pressure my grandchildren. A nudge here or there is fine, but I wouldn’t lock you in a room with one bed to get what I want.” She shakes her head like how could I even think that? “I also know you’re adults and there’s no reason why you can’t share a bed platonically. You’re both strong-willed individuals and won’t let your libidos win, right?”
“Of course not,” I rush out, mortified that in a roundabout way, I’m talking to my grandma about sex. “I’m sorry. I just thought…”
She squeezes my hand again and opens her mouth, but there’s a knock on the door. Dori opens it a bit, then waves Midge in.
“This is all I’ve got.” Midge hands over a stack of clothes to Dori. “The pajamas are from my late husband, but he didn’t die in them or anything. And then I gave you one of my nightgowns. Please return them without stains.”
I cough and Gavin’s looking at me like seriously, are these women for real?
“Thank you, Midge. Very nice of you.” Dori goes to hand them to Gavin, but he doesn’t take them, so she places them on the bed. “Once you shower, leave those clothes outside and we’ll get them washed for you.” She looks at Gavin. “Wait until you see what an iron can do.” She looks at the other two women. “This generation never wants to iron anything.”
Gavin opens his mouth but closes it, probably figuring it’s better if he keeps quiet.
“Thanks, ladies,” I say. “We appreciate everything.”
I elbow Gavin and he jumps. “Yeah, thanks for your help.”
Grandma Ethel places one palm on my cheek and the other on Gavin’s. “That’s what grandmas are for. You’re happy, we’re happy.” She pats our cheeks. “Don’t forget to leave the dirty clothes outside. You have half an hour before Earl will be by to pick them up.”
This place runs like a well-oiled underground operation. It’s scary that the administrators think they’re in charge. This group of seniors could run the world.
Finally they leave, and I shut the door and flick the lock behind them.
“I’ve been in some sketchy situations in my life—and feel free to take my man card from me—but I’m not sure about staying here.”
I laugh and pick up the nightgown so I can head to the bathroom, needing to get showered and to bed. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not sure where to start.”
I chuckle. “It’s my grandma, we’re fine.”
He looks around. “This feels like a bomb shelter or something.”
“Let’s just get showered, leave our clothes for them, and go to bed.”
“About that… I’m not wearing a dead man’s clothes.” He stares at the stereotypical plaid button-up shirt and pajama pants resting on the edge of the bed.
I wave off his concern. “She said he didn’t die in them. It’s fine.”
His jaw hangs ajar. “Come on, Posey, I’m sleeping in my boxer briefs.”
“No, you’re not! If we’re sharing that bed”—I motion with my hand up and down his body—“that has to be covered up.”
He walks toward me with that devilish smirk that says he’s going to be flirtatious, probably insisting that I don’t want him half naked because I want him. And as tired as I am right now, I’d probably admit that that’s exactly the reason.