“Happy. But I just found out you like to leave your dirty socks in the corner of the bedroom,” he says with a chuckle.
“And I just discovered you never remember to actually turn the washer on.”
“And I’m now spoiled, and I only want delicious homemade breakfasts from you.” He grins at me when he says it.
“Hmm, is that so?”
“Your biscuits are to die for.”
A loud clang catches our attention.
“I guess we should go out there and face her, right?” I ask.
He nods. “She really isn’t too bad—as long as you’re on her good side.”
“I’ll do everything to get there, then.” I laugh and walk out of the bathroom.
“I’ll throw some other clothes on, then be out,” Miles tells me.
I glance back to see that he’s standing in the doorway, with one hand leaning against the doorjamb.
As far as husbands go, I don’t think I could have picked a better-looking one.
My breath catches at the thought, and I spin around to hurry down the hall.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” I croak out as I reach the kitchen. “I had to wash my hair three times.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, sweetie. I was raised on a dairy farm. I know how good a shower feels after working with cows all day.”
She smiles at me and pours a very full glass of wine, which she then offers me. It’s hard to picture someone like her growing up on a dairy farm—or covered in manure for that matter.
I take a sip of the wine and decide I probably can’t even afford to read the label.
“You must be hungry after a long day,” she says.
And that’s when I realize I’m at a distinct disadvantage. I don’t know her name.
“I’m so embarrassed to ask this,” I say in a hushed tone. “What’s your name? Miles just always calls you Grandma, and it just made sense to me, but now that you’re here, I guess I should know your name.”
She throws back her head and laughs. “Oh, that sounds like Miles. Has he told you much about the family?”
“Not too much, Grandma,” Miles says as he walks into the kitchen.
He greets her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then he walks around the island toward me.
Hopefully, my wide eyes are telepathically sending my words to him.Stop. Think. Maybe collaborate. Are we kissing on the lips? The forehead? What would a newlywed do? I’m making us WWAND bracelets.
Miles’s back is to his grandma, so he mouths to me,You okay with this?
I nod once, and he leans down to kiss the top of my head. Okay. That wasn’t too bad—but then he swings his arm around my shoulders and tucks me close against his side. Worse. Much worse. Now I can feel his entire side, and it’s molding to mine as he faces his grandma.
“I’m just so glad to be meeting you,” she says. “By the way, I’m Marigold. But most people call me Goldie or Grandma. I’d be pleased if you called me either.”
“Are you sure? I might turn out to be the bad seed of the family.”
“Don’t worry. That position has already been filled by Preston,” Miles murmurs.
Goldie has amazing hearing, because she narrows her eyes at him. “Was there something you cared to say?”
