Page 95 of Delicate Escape

A hoot sounded from behind me, making us startle and break apart, and I whirled to see Lolli doing some sort of jig toward us, hands raised in the air, bracelets jangling.

“Iknewit!” she cheered. “Finally got you someone to put some life back into you, Shep.”

“Lolli,” he warned.

“Don’t you ruin my fun. Can’t a grandmother be happy that her grandson’s getting some of the good stuff?” She turned to me and winked. “It’s always the proper gentlemen with the most surprising skills between the sheets.”

“Lolli!” we both yelled at the same time.

I turned, burrowing my face in Shep’s chest as I dissolved into laughter.

“Boundaries,” Shep growled at his grandma.

Lolli made apsshsound. “I hope you’re not that uptight in the bedroom.”

“I donotwant to be having this conversation,” he snapped.

“Don’t be such a prude. Sex is a normal act. Nothing to be ashamed about.”

“I’m notashamed.I just don’t want to talk about it with my grandmother, in front of my girlfriend.”

I pulled back at that, my mouth curving. “Girlfriend, huh?”

A little pink hit Shep’s cheeks. “I sure fucking hope so.”

Lolli made a tsking noise. “You haven’t even DTRed? I thought I taught you better than that, Shepard Colson. You never let a good one get away.”

Shep looked confused. “DTRed?”

Lolli let out an exasperated sigh. “Defined the relationship. Get with the program.”

Shep just shook his head and then looked down at me with an amused expression. “I’d apologize, but this is just going to keep happening, so I don’t think it’s even worth it.”

One corner of my mouth kicked up. “I don’t know, I kinda like your apologies.”

Shep let out a growl, pitching his voice low. “If you make me hard in front of my grandmother, I’m going to make you pay later.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “Promises, promises.”

Lolli let out a squeal as she clapped. “I justlovethis!”

Shep sighed. “What are you doing here so early anyway? You’re never up before eight.”

She grinned back at us. “I’ve got The Devil’s Lettuce convention over in Roxbury today. I’m selling my special cookbooks.”

My brows pulled together. “The Devil’s Lettuce?”

“She means pot,” Shep muttered. “She’s going to a weed convention. Jesus.”

Lolli glared at her grandson. “You sound like Trace. He thinks I’m going to get kidnapped by some drug cartel. I’m just selling cookbooks.”

“Pot cookbooks,” Shep argued.

She huffed, brushing invisible crumbs off her flowy dress. “I have to give the people what they want. I have the best brownie recipe in three counties.”

Shep looked down at me. “When you come to dinner, and Lolli offers you any sort of baked good, just say no.”

“You’re no fun,” Lolli complained. “You know, I’ve got this new strain that’s really supposed to ramp up arousal. I could bring you some?—”

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