Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Wow.” Canaan’s throat tightened at Renzo’s thoughtfulness.
“What’s this about coffee?” Grandpa emerged from the kitchen.
“It’s from a place on Coronado that my buddy Curly likes. Thought you might like it.”
“I’ll give it a whirl.” His grandfather sounded casual, but Canaan could tell he was impressed by the set of his jaw and the little nod of approval he gave.
Over dinner, Renzo got Grandpa to share navy stories Canaan had never heard, funny accounts of shipboard life using navy slang that Canaan didn’t always get but Renzo and Grandpa seemed to find hysterical. It was nice, seeing them together, and Renzo was so patient with Grandpa, waiting it out when he had to pause to think of a word. As they talked, Renzo put away double helpings of the stir-fry and rice, which Canaan took as a win.
“This is good,” Renzo said as he ate the last of the rice and sauce on his plate.
“Really? Not just all right?” Canaan couldn’t resist teasing back.
“Nah. You can cook for me anytime.” Renzo gave a lopsided grin. “Or if Mr. Finley will let me near the stove, I can make one of my nona’s recipes. I can’t do gravy—red sauce—like her, but her chicken piccata was always one of my favorites, and Ma taught me how to do that one.”
“Oh, with the offer of real Italian food, I’m not sure how we can refuse.” Grandpa gave Renzo a genuine smile, one that made Canaan relax that much more. “You know, my Molly and I went to an Italian place on our first date...” And thus, Grandpa was off and running with the story how he met Canaan’s grandmother, a long rambling story that continued while he and Renzo did the dishes.
Would that be Canaan someday? With a story that close to his heart? And not the fake one he’d shared with the band either, but a real this-is-how-we-began tale?
“I think that pot’s clean.” Renzo pointed to the saucepan that Canaan had almost scrubbed the finish off of with the force of his wanting.
“Yeah.” Canaan passed it over for Renzo to dry. Story finished, Grandpa retired to the living room to watch the mystery drama he was fond of, leaving Canaan to walk Renzo around back to his apartment.
“Landscaping is pretty.” Renzo paused outside Canaan’s door, taking in the backyard.
“Grandpa loves his flowers. It’s getting hard for him to bend though. But he still manages.”
“What he needs is some raised beds. I know a guy—husband of a SEAL medic. He can come up with something reasonable.”
“That sounds awesome. I’ll run the idea by Grandpa.” Canaan unlocked his apartment and ushered Renzo in.
“Finally,” he said before the door even clicked shut, launching himself at Renzo. Trying to both kiss him and undo his shirt buttons at the same time, he cursed the height difference that made both tasks harder than they needed to be. Renzo tasted like the mints he always carried and surprise and everything Canaan had wanted all damn week.
“Hey. Whoa. Whoa.” Renzo held him off. “I was needing to talk to you before we...uh...that.”
“Oh?” Canaan didn’t like the sound of needing to talk, but he tried to keep an open mind.
“I need a favor.” Renzo looked down at the hardwood floor.
“A sexy one?” Canaan could only hope. “Because you have to know by now that the answer to that’s going to be yes.”
“No.” Renzo’s face tensed, looking pained. “Not sexy at all. My family’s coming to town soon. And I... I kinda sorta mentioned you to them. And now my brother’s got in his head that I was some kind of hero—”
“You were.” Canaan tried hard not to beam at the knowledge that Renzo had mentioned him to his parents. Despite whatever discomfort Renzo was having about his teammates knowing, that was huge.
“Anyway.” Renzo waved away the praise. “I might have said I’d ask if you wanted to go to Disney with us, so they could meet you. Joe will probably pepper you with questions all afternoon. And my mom’s going to want reassurances that we weren’t in that much danger. And my dad’s not a talker—”
“Slow down.” Canaan laughed. “You’re trying to talk me out of this instead of just asking.”
“Sorry.” Renzo gave a sheepish smile. “I know you’re busy—”
“I can probably rearrange stuff—my boss is pretty flexible, and Maureen can stop in again if it’s going to be an overnight.”
“That easy?” Raising an eyebrow, Renzo tilted his head, considering Canaan carefully. “You don’t mind?”
“Nah. Like you said, real boyfriends don’t have issues with meeting the family. And not that we’re—”
“Think we are.” Renzo’s laugh tickled Canaan’s soul, made him feel all floaty. “I mean I told my mom we’re friends, but I’m not trying to hide it, and she’ll probably figure it out from how I look at you.”
“Oh? How’s that?” Canaan couldn’t resist baiting him.