Page 44 of Addicted

I’d somehow managed to keep a tight grip on the container of potato salad I insisted on making earlier. It was the polite thing to do. I never showed up anywhere without bringing at least something with me.

But, I had also wanted to peruse that man’s fancy ass kitchen. And peruse I did. For someone who works stupidly long days, he had the most stocked kitchen I had ever seen. Everything was top of the line which made sense because he could apparently cook his ass off.

Even though everything was so clean this morning, he’d made our waffles and left them in his toaster oven until he heard me leave the bathroom. He’d cooked, cleaned, and made sure I ate, all after sending me flying through the fucking cosmos with so many orgasms my pussy was still pulsing angrily twelve hours later.

Hugh had to be some demigod in disguise. Men this perfect and single don’t just fall out of the sky.

After telling me at least eight times I didn’t need to bring anything, he gave up and sat down to watch the game. I was a little surprised that he didn’t do much beyond kissing me good morning, but I was so blissed out and excited by his kitchen, I didn’t mind.

After I threw on a pair of jeans and a flowy long sleeve shirt, I was lucky to find, I spent the rest of my time on the terrace, dozing while the potatoes and eggs boiled and cooled.

“So, he finally broke you down, huh?” Grams whispered and I leaned in close.

“Finally?” Hugh had talked to his grandmother about me enough that this was afinallymoment? I took a breath. Grams laughed and I gave a breathy laugh and slid my gaze to Hugh who was holding the door open for us.

“What’s so funny?” He narrowed his eyes at us.

I bit my lip and Grams just shrugged. So, I wasn’t the only woman in his life that gave him a hard time? And to think, I thought he had every woman around him wrapped around his finger. This was going to be fun.

She ushered us into the living room and Hugh took my potato salad to the kitchen.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened down the street, Hugh.” Grams looked like she was bursting to gossip as she yelled from the living room. Hugh cameback and sat next to me, his fingers finding mine and giving me a little squeeze.

“Charles—he used to be the butcher back in the day, Denise—came home and realized his power was out! So, he called up the power company, spitting mad and cursing. They asked him to walk out and check his breaker. That wasn’t the problem. It was the raccoons!” She paused for dramatic effect. Hugh and I laughed.

“Then he started yelling at Regina—that’s his next-door neighbor, Denise—because she’s been feeding them damn stray cats for years and apparently that blind bitch can’t tell the difference between a cat and a raccoon because a whole family stops by for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

I imagined an old woman blindly throwing cat food in her backyard and shook my head. Hugh was reclined on the sofa and covering his eyes, his smile wide.

“He was screaming so loud the whole neighborhood came out. And then Patrice, you know Patrice is always stirring the damn pot, she came out with a bowl of popcorn. We shared it as Charles started kicking that poor woman’s garden gnomes.”

“Not the gnomes, Grams! Those should be declared a landmark.” Hugh’s tone was full of mirth.

“I hate those damn things,” she said to me as she rolled her eyes. “But Hugh, he’s always loved them.”

“I used to cut her grass back in the day. She said when she passes, she’s leaving me those gnomes.” Hugh eyed his Grams as her lips thinned to a line.

“I swear, you bring them near my house, and they’ll decorate your grave.” Her tone was serious, but apparently not serious enough because Hugh started belly laughing.

“Don’t worry, Grams. I wouldnever.”

Even I could hear the bullshit in his tone.

“Bull.Shit,” she said through her teeth, shaking her head.

Oh. Ilikedher.

CHAPTER 25

HUGH

The women were glowing. It was like I’d touched two live wires together and I was watching the fireworks explode. Dinner was delicious, as always, and Denise was talking recipes with Grams. Denise was saying her secret to a good roast was balsamic vinaigrette, and Grams was swearing by a healthy coat of mustard.

I should’ve known those two were going to spend the day testing my patience right then and there, but I didn’t think that far ahead, I was just excited to introduce them to one another.

Grams had her gray hair curled around her ears and I was watching her, curious. There were two reasons why she would look this good: she was trying to impress Denise, or she was going over to see Mr. Parker.

As much as I loved the idea that she’d dressed up for Denny, I knew it was Mr. Parker. They’d beenfriendsfor the better part of a decade.

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