Page 31 of Mistlefoe
“Surprisingly boring for a man cave.” She huffs as she putsthe shopping bags right beside the massive velcro Christmas tree.
“I don’t know what you were expecting and I won’t ask.” Snorting, I turn around and head back out to her truck. I don’t need to do the whole process she executed earlier. Rather than that, I toss the baskets in and just hoist myself up with one hand. Unless Sierra had help, it must’ve taken her an hour to load all this junk in.
“Huh. Since you’re there, just pass me stuff,” she says from a distance still.
“Sure.” I test a few of the bags and boxes to find the lightest stuff and pass it over to her. While she’s on her way to the shed, I grab the heavier stuff and fill up one basket with bags, and haul a box over my shoulder.
I’m pushing everything against a wall in the shed after our second trip, when I hear the noise of an engine. I figure it’s not Sierra leaving, since we have more shit to offload. But then I walk over to the driveway and freeze, torn between horror and amusement.
Gramps is getting out of his neighbor’s car and spots the lonesome woman right away. “What do we have here? A female in my grandson’s property? Are my eyes deceiving me?”
Something like a mewl comes out of my throat. I’d be open to the idea of a black hole swallowing me whole right about now.
“Oh, hi.” Sierra leaves the shopping bags on the ground and straightens up. “Grandson, you said?”
“That’s right.” Gramps offers his hand for Sierra to shake and she returns the gesture. “Conrad Mahoney, but call me Gramps. And that’s Frank behind the wheel, my neighbor.”
Frank is an even more sour old man than Gramps, and he’s glad to ignore the rest of us from his car.
“Lovely to meet you, I’m Sierra Fernandez. I work with your grandson.”
“Just that? A bummer. He’s single, you know?”
“Gramps,” I bark the word to try to stop him. It doesn’t so I hurry the hell up.
“Has been for three years,” he keeps saying, “ever since that awful Nikki.”
Slowly, Sierra turns to cock an eyebrow at me. “So awful, am I right?”
I finally reach them. After waving my hand at Frank, I turn to the other two. “Gramps, why are you here at this time? Is everything okay at the rink?”
“Very pretty, I’ll give her that,” the old man says, ignoring me as if I didn’t exist. “But a real succubus, if you catch my drift.”
Finally, I grab him by the shoulders. “Can we please not talk about Nikki—ever?”
“Bah.” He shrugs himself off my hold. “You’re always can we not this, can we not that. Let an old man live before life takes him.”
I’m whining now. “Gramps. You’re killing me here. Is there something wrong?”
He folds his arms. “Nothing wrong. I came to bring you the casserole and cornbread leftovers you were supposed to pick up.”
“Crap.” I run a hand through my damp hair. “Sorry, Gramps. This week has been so intense working with Sierra that all I could do every night was just come home and crash.”
“Just worked?” He looks between us.
Sierra nods with shocking seriousness. “Just worked.”
“Boo. When I was your age, I misbehaved some. Enough to get me a son out of it.”
“Where are those leftovers?” I take to ignoring him now.
Sierra bursts out laughing. She clutches her belly and lets out a loud, hearty laugh that fills the air with feminine notes. Even Gramps is as enchanted as I am.
That is, until he finds me about to drool and smirks. I duck from his view and open the passenger door of Frank’s car to grab two massive containers. The blast of country music inside is all the greeting I get from Gramps’s neighbor.
Straightening, I shake my head at my old man. “Gramps, this will feed an army. Did you leave some for yourself?”
“I’m tired of eating it already. Besides, now you can share with Sierra here.” He gives an exaggerated wink that makes her chuckle again.
