"I mentioned it. She's intrigued."
"That doesn't sound like a 'yes.'"
"She has a complex schedule. The restaurant doesn't give her many consecutive days off."
"Then we pick a week that suits her, and we make it work." Gran's tone is gentle and entirely immovable. "I want to meet her. She raised a remarkable woman, and that deserves acknowledgment."
"I'll call her this week," I say. "I promise."
"Good." Gran picks up her fork, satisfied. She eats a bite of chicken, sets the fork down again, and speaks with the perfectly calibrated casualness of a woman who has been planning the next sentence for a while. "It does occur to me that with as much time as you're spending with Charles, it would be entirely sensible for you to have your own room here. We have seven bedrooms sitting mostly empty, which is a genuine waste of space."
I blink, feeling the heat climb my neck.
"Gran," Charlie interjects.
"It's a practical observation." She reaches for the salt without looking at either of us. "You're here more often than not, and I know Charles has been staying over. It's only fair you have a room here for yourself."
A slow grin stretches Charlie’s face. "You know, Gran. That’s a great idea. There’s absolutely something to be said for it." He doesn't attempt to keep the delight out of his voice. "I know just the room. It's the one right next to mine, great light, faces the south pasture."
"Charlie—" I protest. "Ihavemy own room, at my house."
"It has a big closet," he continues, as if he doesn’t hear me. "And Oscar keeps it spotless."
"I am not discussing this at the dinner table," I reply primly, exasperated and amused at the same time.
"Then after dinner."
Gran takes a sip of tea and surveys the two of us with an expression of pure, serene contentment. "Oscar made cherry tart for dessert. I suggest we finish dinner before you two make a fuss over something that's already decided."
Charlie's grin is insufferable. I take a very long sip of wine.
Dessert is excellent, and the conversation moves to safer territory—Diego's plans for harvest, the bookshop's upcoming event that Willow Sage is participating in, a mildly outrageous story about Kevin and one of the ranch cats that Charlie has clearly been saving. Gran retires early with a kiss to my cheek and a pointed look at Charlie that he either doesn't notice or chooses not to acknowledge.
Oscar clears the table with quiet efficiency, and Charlie takes my hand and tugs me toward the hallway before I've formulated an objection.
"I want to show you something," he says.
"Charlie, I am not?—"
"Just look." He pulls me up the stairs and down the hallway, which is wide and warm-lit and lined with framed photographs that I haven't had a chance to look at closely. He stops at a door at the end of the hall and pushes it open, stepping back so I can see.
The room is huge, with two tall windows, currently showing nothing but dark sky and the faint shapes of trees against the horizon. A reading chair sits in the corner beside a small lamp, and the closet door stands open to reveal a space that is, as advertised, substantial. The whole room smells faintly of cedarand beeswax, and someone has placed a small vase of flowers on the nightstand that matches the ones downstairs.
"Looks like Oscar freshened it already," Charlie comments. "I wonder how long Gran's been cooking this move up."
"Are you saying your grandmother has been planning to move me in here?"
"Sunshine, she's been planning our wedding since the moment she heard about you. That woman has a sixth sense about these things, and she's downright diabolical." He leans against the frame and crosses his arms, and the way the hallway light falls behind him makes him look like a fallen angel. "My room is right there." He tips his head toward the door across the hall. "Gran's is on the first floor, on the opposite side of the house, which means?—"
"Do not finish that sentence."
"I was going to say it means she won't hear you if you get up early and want to make coffee without disturbing anyone."
"You were absolutely not going to say that."
He chuckles. "I'm not above using Gran's bedroom location to my advantage."
I point at him. "I am not sleeping here."
