Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
“I was under the impression you have food in this house, not that I’d walk in on you two trying to eat each other’s faces.”
Allie and I spring apart, warmth blooming on my skin. It’s like we’re two high school kids caught in the act of doing something they shouldn’t, instead of two grown adults who are fucking married, with two kids, and making out in our own house. I’m throbbing with need, and I can’t say I’m excited about this interruption.
Allie flicks a strand of hair from her forehead and smiles. “Hi, Gram. You didn’t tell us you were coming.”
“Finn called me. He said you had lasagna and garlic bread rolls.”
Finn is our firstborn, a five-year-old boy who already knows he has Gram wrapped around his little finger. He recently learned how to call on the mobile phone, and he’d been calling almost everyone on Allies’ contact list—usually me and Gram.
“What? We don’t.” Realization dawns on Allie and she purses her lips together, huffing out a breath. “Oh, that boy. Finn has been hounding me for lasagna and garlic bread rolls since last week.”
Gram rounds her and points an accusing finger. “And you didn’t feed him? You didn’t give him what he wanted?”
Allie pins her with a look of pure frustration. “Gram, the kids never go hungry. Also, you were the one who hammered it in me that I couldn’t always have everything I wanted. Tristan and I try not to spoil the kids.”
“Allison, it’s food. Finn isn’t asking for a thousand-dollar toy.” Gram swivels to me. I love my wife, I really do, but it’s never fun being caught between these two. “You call Carlo. Tell him we want a tray of lasagna, some garlic bread rolls, and Tiramisu.”
I touch the base of my neck and swing my gaze from my wife to Gram. “Who’s the Tiramisu for?”
Gram doesn’t even bat an eye. Instead, she squares her shoulders and stands with her arms akimbo. “Mine.”
“You have maintenance meds for your blood sugar.”
Gram tilts her head. “So?”
Jesus. Here we go again. Heaving a sorrowful breath, I tell her, “So as your doctor—”
“We’re not in the hospital now, are we?”
“The only reason we’re not is because of your meds and my constant reminder to avoid sugary foods and drinks.”
Gram shrugs. “Then double my dosage after I eat.”
My gaze strays to Allie, eyes pleading for her help. “It doesn’t work like that, Gram.”
“Do I look like I care how it works? Give me my damn Tiramisu. If I die tonight, at least I’ll die happy and with a full belly. If I die and don’t get what I want, I’m gonna make sure to haunt you for all eternity. You think I’m nasty alive? Wait till you see me as a ghost.”
Christ. I believe her. I don’t even believe in ghosts, and yet I know for a fact she’s gonna come through with that threat—just for shits and giggles. Just because she let me call her Gram didn’t mean she treated me any differently. I should’ve known.
Having made her point, she raises her chin to me. “Go make that call. My grandkids are getting hungry. So am I.”
She turns her back on me and goes to the kids, lifting a bag I didn’t notice. I’m pretty sure it’s yet another dozen toys that will cover the entire living room floor.
Allie sidles up to me and presses her cheek on my arm. I lift my arm and drape it over her shoulder, smelling her vanilla-scented shampoo as I kiss her head. “Even after all this time, your grandma still scares me.”
“You know she actually likes you, right?”
“She bought the kids mini LEGOs. Not the regular ones, no. The super small ones you won’t notice until you step on them. Only someone who hates the kids’ parents will do something that nefarious.”
Allie chuckles and slides her arms around my waist. “It’s a good life, isn’t it?”
That makes me smile, my chest cracking open. “It is, Bun. And it’s all because of you.”
The End.