Chapter Thirty-One
West
“Well, don’t you clean up nice.” Grandpa looks me over when I return to the kitchen.
He’s putting the finishing touches on the dinner we prepared together, but I had to step away to shower when I realized how late it had gotten. Blue’s supposed to be here in fifteen minutes and tonight has to be perfect.
“You don’t think this is too much?”
“Too much?” He frowns as I fidget with my tie. “What were you gonna do, greet the woman at the door in your boxers?”
I look down at myself, trying not to overthink this.
“Relax, son. She’ll think it’s nice that you put so much thought into tonight—making sure the house is spotless, preparing dinner from scratch. And I don’t think there’s a woman alive who’d be upset that a man put on a nice pair of pants and a shirt that actually has buttons for a date.”
I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous, but I hope he’s right. Best case, Blue sees the effort that went into tonight. Worst case, she’ll think I’m trying too hard and assume I have something up my sleeve.
You’re thinking too much, and you ruin shit when you think too much.
He slides the dinner rolls into the oven, then sets the timer before I grab him into a hug.
“Thank you. I would’ve burned this place down without you.”
He laughs, but we both know it’s true. He pats my back as we separate. “No problem. Anything I can do to help.”
He glances down at his watch, and his eyes widen.
“Shoot, guess I should get a move on,” he says. “I’ll be at Dane’s or the night to give you two some privacy, but you should know I’m heading out for good in a few days.”
I wasn’t expecting that. He’s been here so long, I guess I let myself get too used to it, used to his company, his off-color sense of humor.
“Wow… okay. I hate that you have to go, but—”
“Trust me, if it were up to me, I’d stay put until Blue’s hauling her bags back across the threshold, but that damn cousin of yours.”
His jaw tenses, and I don’t have to wonder which cousin he’s talking about.
“Linden?”
“Who else? That idiot’s gotten himself into some pretty deep shit. A DUI this time,” he adds with an eye roll.
I wish that came as a surprise, but Linden’salwaysin deep shit.
“Looks like we’ll havetwomugshots in this month’s family newsletter,” he teases, smacking my cheek lightly.
“Funny.”
“I sure thought so.” He pauses to glance around, then meets my gaze. “You’ve done good here. Now, just relax and be yourself. Fortunately, she’s already in love with you, so half the work’s already done.”
“Thanks, Grandpa.”
“See you tomorrow,” he says, and then he heads out as his ride pulls up.
I’m a wreck on the inside, pacing as I try to keep my breathing steady. I look down at my clothes again—black shirt, pants, and tie—still questioning whether it’s too much.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it from my pocket.
Dane: Grandpa just texted his ETA. That mean the house is date-ready?
