“Oh, my. Isthisyour new bodyguard?” Ethel says sweetly when she catches sight of me. “Why, isn’t he just a fine piece of ass!”
My polite smile freezes at her words, but Milo is still grinning without a care in the world, like he’s used to this.
“Dearie, you didn’t tell me he’s so drool-worthy. Why have you been keeping this fine specimen away from me for so long?”
She speaks using a sweet old-lady voice, but I’ve never heard a granny use such provocative words.
“Ethel, stop it. You’re scaring him,” a young woman’s voice rings out from behind us. Milo’s face goes pale.
“Did you just say the forbidden words?” Milo gasps. “Telling Ethel to stop is like throwing water on a grease fire. It only makes things worse.”
“Stop it, boy. You’re being dramatic,” Ethel chides. She’s still smiling, but I see it now: the evil glint in her eye that is not unlike the one Milo gets in his eye when he’s teasing me.
I can see why they get along so well, but I have a feeling they would both revolt if I told them my theory.
Ethel strides toward me on surprisingly speedy legs, despite using a cane, and unceremoniously feels up my biceps and pecs.
“Nice and firm. You’ll do just fine at protecting him,” she says and thumbs toward Milo, who has a palm to his forehead.
“Can younotfeel up my bodyguard on your first time meeting him?” Milo says with an exasperated groan.
“Calm your titties. No one’s going to steal your man. I still have my eyes on your last one.”
Milo rolls his eyes. “Jack isstillhappily married,andhe’s like thirty years younger than you.”
“So what? Does he have something against experienced women who know what they want? The old men are doing it, so why can’t I?” she says with a sniff.
“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s married,” Milo grumbles, but Ethel either doesn’t hear or chooses to ignore him.
She turns her sweet, kind, smiling face to me, and I’ve never been more terrified in my life.
“So, Mr. Mountain Man, what are your intentions with my boy?” she asks, her voice dripping with honey.
“Uh”—my eyes dart to Milo, who’s still shaking his head—“to keep him safe?”
“Mmhmm. Interesting, very interesting indeed.” She hums, then turns back to Milo and says, “You two better have the wedding while I’m still alive and kicking. Better hurry. Who knows how many years these old bones have left.”
“Ethel!” Milo admonishes. I didn’t think Milo had the ability to feelshy, but he’s looking downright bashful now. I tug on the collar of my shirt, feeling the warmth of the heat…or maybe it’s Ethel’s words.
“You can’t say things like that! You’re going to live another twenty years, if I have anything to say about it! Besides, as they say, evil never dies,” Milo says sweetly.
There’s so much to unpack there, and I’m still trying to figure out whether Milo is careless with his words or if he just doesn’t care and blurts out whatever the hell he wants. Never mind the fact that he didn’t even correct her on the fact that we’re not getting married.
We’re not even a couple, or anything near that. What Milo and I have is a strictly professional relationship, and I guess we’re now friends—BFFs or whatever—but a little friendship never hurt anyone.
“Careful, boy. I might be old, but I can still whoop your ass all the way to Sunday.” Apparently, she didn’t miss the casual insult thrown her way.
“Pure chaos, I tell you,” Milo whispers to me. I can’t help but smirk at how ironic his choice of words is. It’s like the pot calling the kettle black.
At that moment, a stern-looking bald man, who I would guess is in his thirties, comes marching over to us with purpose.
“Ethel, can you explain why there are zucchini and a box of condoms and lube in every room?” The man growls the question.
“I don’t see the problem, Bob.” Ethel blinks up at the man innocently. “What do you expect us to do after you instituted a no-fraternization rule?”
The man’s entire head turns red. “That’s to keep you all safe. And you couldn’t get dildos or something? You know, something morenormal? And why is there zucchini in the men’s rooms too?”
Ethel shrugs, and Milo’s hiding half his face behind the sleeves of my leather jacket, looking like he’s trying to keep from laughing.
