Page 295 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

The audacity of some people baffled me. Did they think I’d be okay dating someone else’s man? Hell no. I didn’t want to make someone else experience that kind of pain. I had respect for myself. If a man wanted to be with me, he could only be with me.

If I had it my way, I’d create an interesting thorny bouquet of greenery with a few poison ivy leaves mixed into the arrangement and deliver it to the jerks’ offices with a lovely card that read: From Your Secret Admirer. They’d open it real fast.

On behalf of all women in the world, you’re welcome. But of course, practicality stopped me. I was a professional. So that innovative idea played out only in my head.

I didn’t like cheaters and liars. Who did? The last thing I wanted was to be someone’s side piece, side dish, or whatever else people called it. I cringed at how awful that sounded. I was not an appetizer, nor an accessory, dammit.

But I was that “side piece” to my ex-boyfriend, Dennis. That experience taught me an unforgettable lesson: I was worthy of being more. Why was I thinking of him? It only made me angry and pissed off at men. I knew I shouldn’t clump them all into one basket, but it seemed like they were everywhere.

Actually, there was a fifth man who had asked me out. The man walking down the street earlier flashed before my eyes. He was older than all the others, more mature. More magnetic. He had an irresistible dimple. But a dimple and a handsome man weren’t worth a shattered heart. He probably had a wife and kids at home too.

Stop thinking negatively. Maybe he was just interested in you.

However, there was something about him that intrigued me. The way he looked at me differed from the other men. Or at least how my body had responded to him was different.

Stop obsessing over men.

“No wonder why you don’t want to visit me in Vermont.” Grandpa Collins’ voice pulled me back to the moment. “The most exciting thing that happens there is a cow walking into my driveway.”

I laughed at how the country folks reacted to the energy of the big city. “Sometimes I crave the quiet of the hills and grass too.” That was the truth.

“Visit me anytime, sweet girl. Thanks for showing me around. It’s good for my old mind, you know? At my age it’s good to see something new. Makes me feel young again. Strengthens my heart.” He placed a hand over his chest, where a scar lay underneath his gray cardigan. Late April weather called for sweater attire, but I wore a lilac tunic with a decorative belt over dark tights.

What did my grandpa want after he was well enough to travel? To spend time with me, his “favorite granddaughter”—his only granddaughter. How could I say no to that? So I made time for him. He called my older brother, Thomas, to let him know that he’d be visiting him in a couple of weeks because he was his “favorite grandson”—his only grandson.

With the recent heart surgery and his ongoing Parkinson’s, I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. I never got to meet my mother’s parents because they’d passed before I was born. So I cherished my time with the only grandparent I had left on my dad’s side.

“So who are you dating these days? You haven’t talked about any man. Is he a criminal?” Grandpa asked as we crossed the street and passed Quench Your Thirst, one of my favorite places to go for outstanding drinks.

“No!” I laughed in disbelief as we headed toward Etched Street.

I didn’t want to know what else went through his mind, and I certainly didn’t want him prying anymore. When Grandma was alive, she used to ask me all these personal questions, but after she passed, he took over.

“Are you hiding him?” Grandpa teased.

“I’m not talking about any man because there’s no man.”

“Then what’s wrong with the men? Why aren’t they lined up to date my gorgeous granddaughter?”

I smiled at his serious expression. “There’s nothing wrong with being picky, Grandpa. Just so you know, I’m not interested in criminals.”

“Well, your grandmother said I stole her heart, so I guess I’m a criminal.” He winked, and my heart warmed at his sense of humor.

Grandpa and Grandma were the most loving couple I’d ever met. The remembrance of my grandmother sparked in his wise eyes. Come to think of it, grandfather and my father were always shining examples of how real men should treat their women. I guess I forgot that when I fell for Dennis.

Not wanting Grandpa to miss his wife, I changed the topic. “Are you okay walking? Do you need to rest?” I asked, turning onto Etched Street.

Grandpa flexed both arms. “Don’t worry about me. I’m strong as a bull.”

We strode by a boutique called Sew It Seems. The sign said they had a new selection of clothes from local designers. I’d like to check that out another day. I didn’t want to drag the poor old man around looking at dresses. Across the street were two restaurants, a hair salon, a gift shop, and so much more. The Etched Building stood like an artwork in the distance. It towered over all the shops on the retail strip with twenty floors. It wasn’t huge compared to other buildings a few blocks away, but it was distinctive.

“What do you want for lunch?” I asked, crossing the street. “We have all kinds of restaurants here. There’s The Laughing Matter, Family Munch, and Luigi’s Pizza.”

“I’ll eat anything,” Grandpa said, glancing around.

As I walked toward The Laughing Matter, a sensation slithered around me. Then my eyes landed on the man who had occupied my mind earlier. He was sitting in the outdoor seating with two other men. There were other people sitting at tables around him, but my eyes went to his face. He didn’t see me, so I stole a moment to study him.

“How about we try The Laughing Matter?” Grandpa asked.

---