Page 63 of The Opposite Effect

Being mindful not to touch her bruise, I press a quick kiss onto her cheek before muttering, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

When my grandma’s gaze remains on the window, I spin on my heels and make my way into the hall. I cross my arms in front of my chest, hiding the shake of my hands before asking, “Is she okay? What exactly happened?”

Penny locks her green eyes on me. “We’re not exactly sure. Your grandma is a veryspiritedwoman?—”

“Stubborn would be a more appropriate word,” I interrupt, mumbling.

Penny smiles softly. “We believe she took a tumble in the bathroom a couple of hours ago.”

My heart beats triple time. “Hours ago?” The shortness of my reply doesn’t hide my anger.

Penny nods. “Yes. We only discovered the incident when another resident arrived at her room for an afternoon game of gin.”

“I thought you had protocol for stuff like this? Isn’t there an aide button installed in her bathroom?” I gesture my hand to my grandma’s door.

“Yes, there is. Grace refused to use it.”

I run my hand over the stubble on my chin. I shouldn’t have expected a different reply. My grandmother is so determined not to grow old gracefully. She refuses to use any device with the stigma of age attached to it. Her phone? The latest fandangle device Hunter could design. Her watch? A brand spanking new Apple Watch. No, I’m not kidding. The day I see my grandma shuffling behind a walker will be the day I announce I’m never tattooing again. It willneverhave a chance of happening.

Penny brushes her hand across my forearm. “Go easy on her. She’s still a little fragile after being informed her care is being upgraded from minimum to high.” My personal bubble pops when she takes a step closer to me. “We would really appreciate it if you could talk to your grandma about the possibility of having some grab bars installed in her bathroom.”

I jerk my chin up. “Yeah, I’ll have a talk with her now.” I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know what good it will do, but I’ll give it my best shot. Thanks, Penny, for all your help.”

“No worries,” she replies, her voice low and throaty. “If you need anything, Brax, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me.”

My brow arches. Even in the seriousness of my visit, there’s no way in hell I could miss the sexual ambiguity hidden in her statement. It is like seeing a pair of tits on a bull—obvious and shocking. Although Penny is no doubt beautiful, my cock didn’t stir the slightest from her offer. Not even a twinge. Twenty-four hours ago,I would have been panicked my cock was broken, whereas now, I’m beyond ecstatic it wasn’t riveted by Penny’s offer.

My cock only has one blonde on its radar.

Penny isn’t her.

After bidding farewell to Penny with a dip of my chin, I amble into my grandma’s room. She tries to maintain an irritated attitude, but her composure slips the instant I sit in the reclining chair next to her bed. She quirks her vibrant, red-painted lips as her world-assessing eyes bore into mine. My brow cocks when she inhales a big, undignified whiff through her nostrils. Her eyes widen as they bounce between mine.

Before I can ask what her odd behavior is about, she blurts out, “Joy by Jean Patou.”

I stare at her, shocked and confused.

“The smell of the perfume on your clothes. It is Joy by Jean Patou.” She inhales a quick breath, her expression astounded. “The last time I smelled that scent was when you came to visit me months ago. When you were in my room with Clara McGregor.”

I move my lips, preparing to speak. My words become trapped in my throat when my grandma cuts them off with a fierce glare.

“Don’t think you’re too big for me to take over my knee, young man. I may be half your size, but that won’t stop me from punishing a liar.”

I wave my hands in front of my body, calming the dragon. “I wasn’t planning on lying,” I mutter. I’m not that stupid. I have no doubt she’d spank my ass if I were ever caught lying to her. Seventy-eight or not.

“I was just going to say we aren’t here to discuss why I smell like women’s perfume…” I won’t lie, I’m grinning like the Cheshire cat at the fact I smell like Clara, “… we are here about your turn.”

“Turn, ha!” she says, spitting her words off her tongue in a malicious snarl. “The only thing that is going to have a turn is yourbackside when I give it a good walloping before marching you right out that door.”

Her eyes snap to mine when I mumble, “Do I need to start scrutinizing your reading material? What’s with your sudden fascination with spankings?”

She tries to keep her eyes stern, but the corners of her mouth tugging into a lewd smirk gives away her real composure.There’s the grandma I know and love.

After releasing a deep sigh, she mutters, “I had a little tumble.”

Scooting across the cool leather, I sit on the edge of my seat. “Have you been feeling unwell? Dizzy?”

A heavy line of worry indents her forehead before she mumbles, “A little.”

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