Page 53 of Smolder

I had woken up, tucked in my bed, just like Amory had promised. My thoughts had instantly gone to last night, and I lay there, smiling, thinking about all we’d done. How he’d made me feel. Then, I realized no one had called me from Miller’s last night. I had expected them to. It had been a while since I’d slept all night without interruption.

This wasn’t like Dad. Sure, he’d not come home before, but that was because he had been behind bars. Otherwise, he was here. He knew he had to stay at the house with Grams today.

Maybe he’d gone home with a woman, or he was asleep in his car at the bar. I needed to go look for him, but I didn’t want to leave Grams here alone. Putting her on the back of my Vespa wasn’t an option.

The sound of a glass shattering came from the kitchen, and I left my dad’s doorway at a run before Grams cut herself. She was standing in the middle of the room with wide eyes and pieces of broken glass scattered in front of her. I’d moved all breakable items to the cabinets under the counter and hidden them behind the pots and pans.

“Don’t move, Grams,” I warned her as I went to get the broom and dustpan.

“I found my good dishes and the drinking glasses I had misplaced,” she told me. “Silly me had stuck them in the cabinets. Don’t know what I was thinking.”

The cabinets were open, and all of the cookware was pulled out onto the floor. Why had she been digging around in there?

“Why don’t you go on back to the living room and watch the morning news?” I suggested. “I will get this cleaned up and move all those things back where they belong.” Which was a lie.

I’d move them to a better hiding place. She would forget about this one, but clearly, this spot wasn’t good enough. I had to put them higher, somewhere she’d be less likely to go snooping.

“I was gonna make a pot of gumbo,” she told me. “Just like Granny used to make. You know her people were from Louisiana. It’s why she cooked so good. Yum, the stuff she could whip up. And I can make that gumbo. You will love it.”

I nodded, agreeing with her. I’d had her gumbo before, and she was right. She’d made some of the best I’d ever tasted. But even if we had the ingredients she needed, which we did not, she wouldn’t be able to make it. She’d forget what she was doing before she got it all set out on the counter.

“You can make that later,” I told her. “I’ll need to go get the bouillon paste and shrimp from the grocery first.”

She frowned. “You don’t get the shrimp from the grocery. Lord’s sakes alive, that would be frozen, and you can’t use frozen shrimp. Granny would roll right over in her grave, she would.” Grams shook her head as if I had lost my mind.

We lived a good four and a half hours from the Atlantic Ocean. There was no fresh shrimp here.

“You’re right. I’ll go get some fresh shrimp,” I assured her.

She nodded and turned to shuffle toward the living room. I let out a sigh of relief that she was safely away from the broken glass and finished getting it cleaned up. I quickly disposed of it, then tied up the garbage bag to take it outside. I didn’t trust her not to go digging in the trash and end up slicing a finger.

I passed the living room on my way to the door and glanced in to see she was sitting in her chair, watching the television with a cup in her hands. I had yet to make coffee, and I wasn’t sure what she had poured in that. I needed to check as soon as I got the trash outside.

Closing the door firmly behind me so Grams didn’t try to follow me, I stepped around the rotten places on the wood until I made it safely off the porch. This was getting worse, and we should probably just take it all down. Get some bricks to use as steps and not have a front porch anymore. We? We who? That should be me. Dad wasn’t going to do anything that required actual work.

I was almost to the trash can beside the road when an expensive matte-black SUV slowed down, then turned into our driveway. There were only two people who knew where I lived and had money to drive something like that. The Mercedes symbol on the back meant this was one of those G-Wagons that cost more than two of my houses.

Opening the lid, I dropped the trash bag inside, then closed it while keeping my eyes on the driver’s door. I did not want that to be Merce, but I’d seen Amory in two different cars now. What were the chances he had three vehicles?

The familiar boot that emerged had me relieved and also caused my stomach to flutter. When Amory stepped out, his eyes were locked on me, and the sight of him seemed to make all my other problems fade away. He was already back. I hoped that meant I wasn’t the only one who was feeling things.

I tucked the hair blowing in my face behind my ear as I made my way in his direction. I had no idea why he was here so early, but I didn’t care. I was just glad he was.

“Good morning,” I said, smiling up at him as he started toward me.

“It is now,” he drawled as a crooked grin curled the corner of his lips.

I licked mine, thinking about how his had felt. Then, I remembered I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet, and I stopped walking. I did not want him smelling my morning breath.

His eyes slightly narrowed as he studied me, but he closed the space between us. “You were heading toward me, all smiles and bright eyes, and then you stopped.”

I put my hand in front of my mouth as I looked up at him. “I haven’t had my coffee yet, which means I haven’t brushed my teeth,” I admitted.

A low, deep chuckle, which made me feel warm all over, came from his chest. “Morning breath won’t scare me off.”

Eh. Well, we weren’t going to test that.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” I told him. “I mean, I’m glad you’re here, but I just didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”

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