It didn’t take me long to realize that Maverick, buttoned up and serious Maverick, was a damned good kisser as my ass hit the cold marble counters and he stepped in between my legs and deepened the kiss.
“Open your mouth for me,” he rasped against my lips, as one of his palms cupped the back of my neck.
I complied, every nerve ending in my body feeling fried by the suddenness of everything as I melted into him.
His tongue danced with mine and I let out a moan that would have normally made me blush to hear on TV.
Then someone delicately cleared their throat and I remembered exactly where we were.
Maverick jerked away from me and we both turned to find my grandmother standing in the doorway with a new dress hanging over her arm.
“Sorry to interrupt—” she began with sparkling eyes but I was already jumping down from the counter, my face blazing with embarrassment.
I ran past her, ignoring her thumbs up in Maverick’s direction as I hurried in the general direction of my bedroom.
There was absolutely no way in hell I was going back out to that party now—fresh dress or not.
“Oh, come on, Lennie. It wasn’tthatbad,” my grandmother said a few hours later as she tried to coax me downstairs to eat something.
The party had wound down since my escape and the only people remaining were the ones staying at Camp David for the rest of the long weekend—ergo my reason for hiding out in my room where I wouldn’t inevitably run into someone with a face that still felt hot hours later.
“It was that bad,” I mumbled from underneath the piles of nesting materials I’d burrowed under with Ginny at my side.
“So your grandma caught you kissing the broody hot bodyguard in the kitchen, it happens,” my grandmother said as if it happened every day. “Let me tell you during 4th of July in 1992 I found your mom and dad holed up and—”
I flipped the blankets off in my hurry to slap my hand over her mouth. “Pleasestop talking before I have to bleach my eyes and my ears at whatever visual you are trying to paint.”
I felt her grin against my palm.
“Got you to come out though, didn’t I? Now come on, Len. Your mother is asking me a ton of questions about why you went MIA and I assumed you didn’t want me to tell her that you were too busy sticking your tongue down a very handsome man’s throat.”
“When did you get so gross?” I asked with a groan, covering my face with my hands. “You know, normal grandmas make cookies and knit.”
“I’ve always been gross, young lady, you just used to have PG ears, and as for knitting? I can’t stand the feeling of yarn, it gives me goosebumps. I’ve always preferred woodworking with a chainsaw for my old lady hobby. Your grandpa hates it.”
She gave my hand a pat and Ginny’s chin a scratch before getting up. “Now get up, girlie, before I drag you out of this bed. There’s a half-rack of ribs with your name on it and don’t think I haven’t forgotten my quest to fatten you up.”
“Why?” I asked grumpily, “So you can stick me in your oven and eat me like the witch from Hansel and Gretel?”
She gave me a playful swat. “I’ll remember that, Lennon Holloway, mark my words.”
Thirty minutes later and I was sitting back with a belly full of meat and potato salad.
“Grandpa went into the wrong business,” I groaned as I wiped my face and hands with the wet wipes on the table.
“Don’t I know it, sweetheart,” my grandmother chuckled as she rested her chin on her hands and watched me clean myself up. “I used to joke that we should run away from politics and open up a barbecue spot in some small town somewhere.”
There was more to her words than just a joke. I didn’t know much about their early marriage, yet another thing they had sheltered me from, but I did know that it had been rough for my grandmother early on. Especially considering they had never been able to have children after my mother.
“Was it really hard? To be married to Grandpa?”
My grandmother shook her head. “No, being married to Farrow and being his omega has been the blessing of my life. When I was young I never thought my life would be as happy as it is now.”
“But,” she continued, “I won’t lie and say that Farrow’s parents made it very easy. They had very explicit expectations for their son. For their career and for the family he created and I didn’t fitthat bill. It put a lot of pressure on your grandpa to be perfect in every other aspect of his life and he passed that pressure on to your mother and on to you and Carter.”
I’d known my grandmother’s life had been hard from a young age going from foster care to the omega center. She’d written an entire book about it years ago that I’d done a book report on in high school. I didn’t, however, know much about my great-grandparents.
By the time I came along they were quite old and I had very few memories of them. Carter remembered them better but all he would tell me was they were a miserable old pair that lived in the old Holloway mansion in upstate Massachusetts and that was it.
