She released a belly laugh. “Ruby was snoozing in her chair.”
“I was not!” Garrett’s nana shouted.
Gram snorted. “Yes, you were, old woman. I can’t help if it you have the napping hours of a farm hand.”
“I own a damn farm!” Ruby protested.
“Why do you think I used that analogy?”
“Gram,” Noah asked. “Am I on speaker phone?”
“Seemed easier this way.” She cleared her throat. “Obviously, we left. How are things goin’ with you and Libby?”
“Fine. She’s in the restroom.” He couldn’t very well tell her what was really going on.
“Fine?” she barked. “Is she wearing that little black thing?
“Uh . . . yeah . . .”
“And things are just fine?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t know what it’s going to take to get the two of you to hook up if that dress didn’t do the trick. Do I have to lock you in a room?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Of course it’s obvious,” Ruby cut in. “A camel dying of thirst in the desert would spit his last sip of water to put out the damn fire between you two. Why do you think we’re really here?”
That rattled around in his head for a few seconds.
“So?” Gram demanded. “What the hell are you doin’ to get the girl?”
“Maybe Libby should be the one trying to get me,” Noah said. “I thought you were a feminist, Gram.”
“Damn straight I am, but you and I both know that girl’s even more of a commitment-phobe than you are.”
“I said that too!” Ruby shouted.
“Commitment-phobe? But she planned a wedding . . .” Noah said. “She believes in the curse.”
Ruby laughed. “Boy, you got a lot to learn, don’t ya?”
“Yes, ma’am?” His voice rose, uncertain that was the right answer.
“Good boy. Admittin’ you don’t know everything is the first step to pullin’ your head outta your ass.”
He couldn’t help but laugh.
“Libby’s like a kid who wants to go to the amusement park and ride a rollercoaster,” Ruby said. “She’s excited to get there, but she starts to chicken out before getting on the ride. She just needs some encouragement.”
Noah grew indignant. “I’m not pushing her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
“You take me for an idiot, boy?” Nana Ruby barked.
Noah jumped even though the woman was on the phone. “No, ma’am.”
“Nobody said anything about dragging her onto the damn ride and tying her in.”
“Unless she’s into that Fifty Colors of Gray BS stuff,” Gram said. “Then she might like to be tied in.”
“It’s BDSM,” Ruby corrected. “Not BS.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s what Megan said. How’d you know?” Gram asked.
There was a pause before Ruby answered, “I might have read it.”
“Might have?” Gram asked. “How did you might have read it? Did you whack your head and get amnesia after you finished?”
“No, dammit!” Ruby shouted. “Okay, I read it. Then I joined MatureSingles.com.”
“And?” Gram encouraged.
“I met a man! Are you happy? Don’t you dare tell those prude daughters of mine that I found a man who’s into spanking.”
“Okay!” Noah interrupted. “That’s TMI!”
“Only if she leaves her jaw open too long for oral sex,” Gram said. “Do you, Ruby?”
“Oh, my God, Gram!” Noah shouted, drawing the looks of the people around him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get that mental image out of his brain. “That’s TMJ, not TMI.”
“Oh, then what’s TMI?”
“Too much information,” Ruby supplied.
“How’d you know that?” Gram asked.
“I got a Twitter account.”
“I have one too and I still didn’t know that.”
“My grandkids taught me to use it,” Ruby added smugly.
“Huh,” Gram said, then returned her attention to Noah. “So is Libby into BPM?”
“I give up,” Ruby groaned.
“I don’t know if she is or not. It hasn’t come up in discussion.” Noah’s face was burning. “I haven’t even kissed her yet.”
“What?” Gram shouted.
“Maybe he’s old-fashioned,” Ruby said.
That seemed to appease Gram since she swung the conversation a different direction. “Are you like those fundamentalist Christians who think they should fill their baskets full of kids?”
“What?”
“Their quivers,” Ruby said. “How do you get everything so wrong?”
“Quiver? I bet those kids are quivering with lust. They can’t even hold hands or hug before they get engaged, and they don’t kiss until the wedding. I bet they don’t last thirty seconds on their wedding night. You don’t want that happening with Libby, do you?”
Noah stifled a groan. How was he having this conversation with two grandmothers? “Look, I appreciate the advice, but I know how to handle women.”
Both women started cackling.
“What?” he asked defensively.
“There’s a difference between handling tarts and handling the woman you want to marry,” Ruby said. “And it’s plain as day that Libby’s scared to make a commitment. Now how are you going to deal with that?”
“My plan was to give her all the space she needs . . . but that dress . . .”
Gram chuckled. “That’s why I called it a lucky dress. It’ll help you two get lucky.”
But he still didn’t think that was what she needed from him. She needed to know he was going to stick around. “I just did everything short of flat-out telling her I love her and want to marry her, and she jumped up like I’d shot her and said she wanted to play poker.”
“Libby hates to gamble,” Gram murmured.
“I know.”
“She’s gonna go looking for another man,” Gram said. “That’s what she does.”
“She already did,” Noah said, trying not to sound defeated. “But she didn’t do anything.”
“That’s good,” Gram encouraged. “That sounds like progress.”
“She told me she wants to take time away from relationships. If that’s what she wants, I’m going to give it to her.”
“While you play with your strumpets?” Ruby asked.
“No,” Noah said firmly. “I’m going to convince her that she’s the only woman I want. Ever.”
Gram chuckled. “There may be hope for you two yet.”
Chapter Eighteen
Noah was stuffing his phone into his pocket when Libby emerged from the restroom. He must have noticed her questioning glance because he said, “Gram. I told her about dinner. They’ll meet us at the restaurant.”
“Okay.” But Libby’s anxiety was making her skin feel too tight. Noah seemed more reserved as they made their way to the poker tables, yet his eyes never left her, making her more and more anxious.