Page 136 of Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia 2)

“Fine,” he reluctantly agreed. “I’ll be back tonight.”

He hugged Gramps goodbye and gave me a soft kiss. I handed him my car keys and he chuckled. “I get to drive the purple chick car?”

“Don’t diss my car. It’s cute,” I laughed.

“Kittens are cute. Cars are meant to be sexy.”

“Whatever,” I laughed, taking the seat he had vacated so I’d be closer to Gramps.

“See you guys soon,” he called as he left.

Once the door was closed, Gramps let out a pent up breath, and said, “Good, he’s gone. I thought he’d never leave.”

I snorted at that. “Was he driving you nuts?”

“Are you kidding me? He was like a silly little nursemaid.” Miming Trace’s voice, he continued, “Gramps, are you thirsty? Are you hungry? Can I fluff your pillow? Do you need anything? I was tempted to ask the nurse if she could give him a tranquilizer so he’d shut up.”

“Gramps,” I laughed, “that’s not very nice.”

“At least you’re pretty to look at!” He exclaimed.

“I’m glad I can be of some service to you,” I leaned forward. “Are you thirsty?” I asked to mess with him.

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t start now.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” I giggled. Crossing my legs, I asked, “Are you really okay walking me down the aisle? If it’s too much just say so.”

“I’m walking you down that aisle, sweetheart. Don’t even try to talk me out of it now that you’ve asked. I don’t even know why they still have me in here,” he pointed to the bare white walls of the hospital room. “There’s nothing more they can do for me,” he looked at me sadly.

“We can hope,” I reached for his hand. “When you think there’s noth

ing left, there’s always hope.”

“I wish that was the case, Olivia. But my time has come to an end. I’m not ready, but I’ve accepted it. I am going to see you and Trace get married, though. I will make it through that.”

I scooted the chair closer to the bed, so that I didn’t have to reach so far for him.

“How can you be so sure?” I asked, my eyes roaming over all of the wires hooked up to him.

“Because I’m a Wentworth, and we’re a stubborn breed of male. I may be dying, but I’ll go when I say I’m ready.”

“You’re something else,” I shook my head.

“My grandson is a lot like me,” he chuckled. “Are you prepared to handle that for the rest of your life?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.

“Good…I do have one request of you…okay, actually two,” he coughed.

“What is it?” I asked.

“First off, I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t name your firstborn son after me. Warren is a really bad name and I’d hate for the poor fellow to be stuck with it just because I had to go and die before my time. Don’t name him Trey either. Give the kid his own name,” he said gruffly, shaking a finger warningly at me. “Trace will want to be sentimental and that isn’t fair to the kid.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at him. “What name would you suggest for this future firstborn son?”

He pondered that for a moment. “Dean,” he finally said. “Dean Wentworth has a nice ring to it.”

“I like that,” I smiled. “Dean is a good name.”

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