Page 12 of Hogging the Hunk

Laughing weakly, I opened the door to grace her with my presence. Enticing smells from the kitchen made my stomach grumble, and it lured me down the stairs, looking for a way to satiate my hunger. The chances of my torture not being entirely in vain lured me the rest of the way down the stairs.

A pan of bacon was frying without supervision on the stove, while Granny leaned over the island, eating ice cream directly from the carton. “Sleep tight?”

“Until Becky woke me up.” I attempted to run a hand through my hair, but I snagged my fingers on a tangle. “What is that goat’s problem?”

“She doesn’t appreciate her schedule being disrupted.” Licking a dribble of ice cream off the corner of her mouth, Granny flipped through the glossy pages of a fashion magazine. She read those things as much to make fun of what people were calling fashion nowadays as she was captivated by artwork in clothing form. “Maren would have had them fed and milked by now.”

Selecting a pair of tongs, I flipped the crackling bacon. I turned on the exhaust fan over the stove to clear out the wispy, blue-gray smoke curling from the sizzling pan. “Then why hasn’t Maren gone out and tended to the animals?” Granny smirked. The curl of her lips made my blood turn to ice. “Wait. Please don’t tell me she and Parker are sleeping in. I don’t want to know any details about what living with newlyweds is like. It’s still weird to me to think that Maren’s even married.”

A prick of jealousy jabbed me when I said the word. Married. A tight lump strangled my breathing. I wasn’t unhappy for my big sister. She and Parker were essentially peanut butter and jelly—they were just meant for each other. It’s just, after studying years of social trends between my sister and I, I had incorrectly assumed that I would be the one to tie the knot first because it had been part of my five-year plan. Other than her strict milking and gardening schedule, Maren had flown through life by the seat of her pants. Not even gracefully, I might add.

Granny cackled gleefully, scooping me from my mire of misery. “You have no idea.”

Empathy for Granny, who’d been witness to the two lovebirds since day one, checked my complaining. Frowning at Granny as she scraped the bottom of the carton, I changed the subject. “Ice cream’s not a breakfast food, you know.”

“Says who?” Smacking her lips, Granny smiled triumphantly at me. “You’re just mad that you didn’t get to it first and now we’re all out.”

“I suppose this bacon is for you, too?”

“It’s a delicious combo. Salty and sweet. And I’m willing to share now that you’re here.”

“Maybe one piece. Bacon’s not the epitome of healthy food, either.” I reached for a bunch of bananas that had brown freckles blooming on their yellow skin and pulled one off. “I like to keep things light when I first wake up.”

“Beckett?” Turning around with a mouthful of banana stuffed in my cheek, Granny was staring at my bare legs. A miniscule shiver traced my nervous system, and I made a mental note to find better pajamas than a slouchy sleep shirt. We’d officially entered the phase of autumn where flannel pajamas were required. “Why are you only wearing one sock?”

Goosebumps rose, following the shiver, and I would have given anything to roll myself up into my duvet cocoon again. I rubbed them away as best as I could and moved my socked foot over my bare one to keep my toes warm.

Maybe I would go upstairs and take a nap when I’d finished my banana. I didn’t have to have the mobile medical RV parked and open until eight.

“I kicked it off while I was sleeping and my bed ate it. Where’s the laundry?”

“Out on the line.”

“Granny,” I groaned. “Why don’t you use the clothes dryer? It’ll take until spring for them to dry, especially overnight.”

“I like the smell of clothes dried out on the line.”

Rolling my eyes good-naturedly, I knew better than to try to change Granny. Modern conveniences were sometimes lost on her, especially when she was set in her ways. Shutting off the stove, I moved the bacon over to a plate lined with a paper towel. Pinching the edge of a bacon slice to avoid burning myself, I blew on it to cool it off. Opening my mouth to indulge, Becky’s demanding cry stopped me. I couldn’t even enjoy one measly slice of bacon without her tainting the experience.

“Seriously, where is Maren? Should we go wake her up?” The thought of interrupting Maren and Parker in… whatever kept newlyweds in bed past their alarm… made me shudder. “We could draw straws to see who should go up there.”

The twinkle in Granny’s eyes as she looked at me over her glasses made my stomach swoop. She knew something else I didn’t know and was about to spring it on me. A creepy Jack-in-the-box popping out in the middle of its eerie music would have been more welcome.

I shifted my eyes. “What?”

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what?”

Granny tossed the ice cream carton and stuck her spoon in the dishwasher. Grabbing a piece of bacon, she chomped on it, ignoring that it was still hot enough to scald off her taste buds. “Maren went with Parker for the start of his new movie shoot. The two of them are in Morocco by now. Or was it Lagos? Anyway, somewhere with tropical beaches and exotic food. Somewhere not here.”

It all came flooding back. Maren had mentioned it when I first moved back home and we’d been going over schedules to make sure there weren’t any conflicts. She might have brought it up last week, too. I’d been too absorbed in the climax of a spy novel I was reading to give her my full attention. Hadn’t she asked me to do some of her farm chores while she was away? Stupid me, Maren had probably timed her big ask for when she knew I’d be distracted. That way, when I absentmindedly agreed, she could get more out of me than if I were alert.

What all was I supposed to do? Collect the eggs? Water the collard greens?

“You can’t remember!” Granny giggled as she started on her second piece of bacon. “ Bet you’re wishing you hadn’t given me such a hard time about my memory!”

“Forgot? No…”

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