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“Is that why you don’t shave that beard of yours?”
“No.” This was getting weirdly personal. “I try to shave it. But I can’t go through with it. Are we almost there?” He slowed down and scanned the houses in the subdivision they’d just entered. They were all tidy and well-tended. He noticed hydrangea borders and a swing dangling from an oak tree.
“That is fascinating.” Her tone of voice told him she really meant that. She wasn’t just being polite.
He shot her an incredulous look. “Fascinating?”
“You are fascinating. I’d love to put you in my book.”
“Book?”
“I’d like to write a memoir. My memory is still quite good. I’ve been inspired by my granddaughter, who writes books. She doesn’t like anyone knowing that, not even publishers, which is a real problem when it comes to getting a book published.” From her tartness, he could imagine she’d had many conversations with her poor granddaughter about this topic.
“Maybe she just needs time.”
“Like you and your beard.”
But he wasn’t listening anymore, because he’d just spotted the most miraculous sight. Brenda.
He slammed on the brakes and the truck jolted to a stop. Brenda, who’d been talking into her phone with an intense expression, looked up at the sound of tires squealing. As soon as she spotted them, she ran towards the truck. CeCe rolled down the window and stuck out her hand for Brenda to grab onto.
“Granny! Are you okay? I’ve been trying to call you!”
“Silly me, I left my phone behind! You’ll have to go get it for me as soon as they let people back into that raging inferno.”
Brenda gasped and turned pale. “That sounds terrifying. Are you all right?” Her gaze shifted to Galen, and she frowned in confusion. “Galen?”
“I…I’m just…I…” he stammered. What the hell was wrong with him? It could have been the fact that Brenda was wearing a sleeveless top that left her shoulders bare and showed off the sprinkling of golden freckles that adorned her skin. Or it could have been her shorts. They were…short. He didn’t know how short because he was afraid to look that direction for fear he’d never be able to look away.
“He’s my knight in shining armor.” CeCe came to his rescue. “He came to give us refugees rides to whatever kind soul would take us in. Should it be retire-fugees? I assumed that I could stay with you for the time being.”
“Of course you can, that’s not even a question. I would have come to pick you up! I was about to hop in the car and head over.” She looked almost disgruntled that Galen had beaten her to the punch of chauffeuring her grandmother.
“I’m sure you would have, but when I see the opportunity to get driven around by a handsome man, I take it.” CeCe granted Galen a smile, while he gazed back at her blankly. Handsome man? That wasn’t the way people normally referred to him. Did she actually mean him?
“You’re the worst flirt in the world, Granny.” Brenda rolled her eyes, then opened the passenger door. “What would Bryce think?”
“Bryce’s my new boo,” explained CeCe to Galen. “We used to say ‘beau,’ but now we can just say ‘boo’, it’s much easier. Will you come around and help me get out?”
Galen got out of the truck, even though Brenda made eye contact with him in a way that told him his help wasn’t needed.
Was she pissed that he’d turned up at her house like this? Unnerved by the appearance of a wild barbarian in her neighborhood?
Brenda stepped aside and allowed Galen to help her grandmother out of the truck. CeCe made a show of needing his support, though he wasn’t entirely sure that she did. What was her agenda here? He couldn’t tell, and Brenda’s presence made him so rattled that he couldn’t think straight.
But at the least, he could help this entertaining older woman descend from his truck. After she was out, he reached for her bag as well.
“Where should I take this?”
“Inside,” she said firmly, while Brenda said, “I’ve got it.”
Great. Did he really have to choose between them? Paralyzed, he froze in his tracks, the bag halfway out of the truck. He shot a panicked glance behind him at Brenda, who softened immediately.
“Inside would be wonderful, thank you,” she said. “I’ll help Granny in. It must have been such a shock, seeing a fire break out in your own home.”
“Oh, poo. They evacuated us at the first hint of smoke. No one was ever in any danger except stubborn old Petey Blake, who didn’t have his hearing aids in.”
Nevertheless, CeCe allowed Brenda to hold onto her elbow as they made their way up the brickwork front pathway to the house. Painted white, with forest green trim, it could be more accurately described as a cottage, Galen thought. It was the kind of house that made him sweat as soon as he walked in. He felt trapped in that kind of environment. What if he made a wrong move and knocked over a ceramic milkmaid or something? Or left dirt on a needlepoint pillow?
