Page 68 of The Perfect Snipe

“Language.”

I set my mug down with a loud thunk. “You passed out—again—in the hallway. Your neighbor found you.”

She waves her hand dismissively. "That woman needs to mind her own business. Made a big thing out of nothing. There was no reason for her to call 911."

“Do you have any idea how scared I was! How scared I am all the time because of you!”

My grandmother’s expression softens for a millisecond before that familiar stubbornness takes over. "I'm fine, Catharina. Stop making such a fuss."

I rake my fingers through my tangled hair, resisting the urge to scream. "I can't stopmaking a fusswhen you're playing Russian roulette with your health. You’re going into assisted living."

Her eyes narrow to slits. "I agreed to look at some places. I did not agree to go."

"Abuela—"

“I said no, and I have my wits about me so you cannot force me. And I took my pills correctly. I made sure.”

My eyes narrow; I place a hand on my hip. “Then how come you got dizzy? How come you passed out?”

She levels me with a glare of her own. “And how do you know whether my dosage might need adjusting? It could’ve happened just the same in an assisted living facility too.”

I growl, slapping the granite countertop of the kitchen island. She’s right. The doctor said her levels were low, and it is possible her dosage is incorrect. But one thing she doesn’t do is miss her cardiology appointments . . . if only because she thinks her doctor is handsome.

Regardless, we’re going in fucking circles, and the pressure in my head is building. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t run out of work, can’t be afraid every time the phone rings, can’t be anxious when it doesn’t.”

“Then stop worrying.”

I throw my hands up in the air and walk over to the fridge to grab the eggs, slamming the door when I’m done.

“Mi nieta—”

“Enough.” Leo’s voice booms through the kitchen.

I nearly drop the carton of eggs, and even my grandmother flinches. Leo strides into the room like a Viking entering a village he’s about to annihilate.

And fucking hell, he looks hot.

His hair is mussed from sleep, his jaw set in determination, and there's a fire in his eyes that makes my stomach do a little flip.

“Rosa, we have tried to be respectful of your choices, but at this point you only have two because I am done watching Cat fall apart.”

My grandmother turns to him, eyebrow raised in challenge. "Oh?"

"You have two options. Either you move in here and we hire a full-time health aide to assist you, or you move into an assisted living facility."

I blink rapidly, staring at him, mouth agape. When I finally process his words, I take a step closer. “Leo, this is your home. She—”

Whatever glare he had aimed at my grandmother is now focused on me. “I’m giving her a choice. And yes, this is my home to do with as I choose. So, if I want to put the offer out there, then that is my right.” He turns back to my grandmother. “And make no mistake, there will be no chasing anyone out.”

Her eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

“Look, I love your granddaughter. And I know you value your independence, but I cannot stand by and let you hurt her. Do you realize that’s what you’re doing?”

She opens her mouth to argue, but Leo holds up a hand, silencing her.

Holy shit.

A lump forms in my throat, making it difficult to swallow. My hand flattens on my chest, tears forming in the corner of my eyes as this amazing—and somewhat scary right now—man takes charge to protect my well-being.

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