She wasn’t evil. Not at all. Scary as hell, yes. But for good causes. She’d made it her personal mission to see his friends happily situated and in love.
That was great for them. Made his heart full when they got that.
But he understood his place and love wasn’t something that happened to him. The exclamation point to this fact was that Babushka never even tried to find him a match. The closest he’d ever come to a relationship was nowhere near love. Maybe heavylike? And that was ages ago.
He understood. Accepted that for some people, that’s the way things went. No use feeling shit about it. Like feeling shit about the rain or the sun… not something he had control over, so he didn’t need to have a firm opinion.
But.
Something about the way Babushka looked at Darla like she’d just become the next Babushka project made his mouth parched. Pressure built in his head,like things were all off kilter in his system with no real reason. As though he were in an airplane descending for a landing and he needed his ears to pop to make things normal again.
This lack of equilibrium did not bring happiness.
Still, Babushka’s question hung in the air, unanswered.Vhat do ve have here?
"Vell?" she queried again. "Vhat is happening here?"
"We have nothing here," Mach assured. "Nothing is happening." Not one thing.
He shot Darla a glance he hoped she could decipher. That look being to move ahead with caution. Because if she started talking to Babushka, then Babushka would get her talking more and then it’d be a whole issue. They’d be staying for class and Darla would probably be engaged to somebody’s grandson by the end of the day.
He did not want to stay for class.
Interestingly, he also didn’t want Darla engaged to anybody—which was not anything he was going to evaluate too deeply right then.
"Just clearing the pool so you and your friends can do your thing," he said. Simple. To the point. And not leaving any room for further questions.
He tilted his head to the towel he’d tossed on a lounger. But Babushka wasn’t looking toward his towel.
She stared straight at Darla.
Babushka’s eyebrows fell together. "This is the voman from Datestagram. Vhat do they call you? America’s ‘new’ Sveetheart?"
That was precisely what they’d been calling her.
"This isDarla. And she’s in a hurry to get out of the pool." Mach made enormous eyes at Darla.
"You do not vish to be in vater vith old vomen?" Babushka asked, her gaze stuck on Darla in an assessing sort of way that made Mach squirm on Darla’s behalf.
For the record, Darla didn’t show any signs of squirming even though Babushka studied her, clearly uncertain if she liked her. Withholding judgement until she determined if they’d be friends or not.
"Not at all. I really wish I could stay." Darla stumbled a little at the beginning, but she absolutely landed the end of that statement without issue.
His chest puffed up with misplaced pride.
"I love water aerobics." The smile she flashed was pure manipulation magic. "I work at the hospital, and I always tell my patients the importance of activities like this." She genuinely looked sad as she said, "Maybe I can come next time?"
Babushka’s eyes twinkled. "Yes, next time."
Then something shifted in Babushka’s gaze. A different glint in her eye that he’d seen before—when she’d directed it at Tanner and Samantha. And Linx and Becca, too. This time, it made him woozy since she pointed it right at him.
Fuuuuuck.
"You have strong spine. I like strong spine," Babushka said to Darla. "Mach, do you like strong spine?"
Mach skipped the steps and used the edge of the pool to pull himself out. "Love it. It’s my favorite." But he knew where Babushka was going with this, and her brand of happily ever after wasn’t in the cards for him. So he pointed at her with two fingers, then at his eyes, then at her again. "No funny business. Darla doesn’t need your help."
"And you?" Babushka asked, absolutely serious. "Do you need my help?"
