Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)(75)

I slowly got out of the car. “Do they know I’m coming?”

“Of course. You think I’d just show up with you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you would.”

“Mia, be quiet.” He touched my upper arms and kissed my forehead. He took my hand and led me to the door, where he didn’t even knock before it swung open.

Standing there, wearing a bright-blue dress, white hair in perfectly permed curls, and the biggest, brightest smile known to man on her face was West’s grandmother. And she was adorably small—not that it was a reflection of her personality if what he’d told me was anything to go by.

“West!” she exclaimed, holding her arms out.

He bent right down to hug her, and she squeezed him tight.

“I missed you, buttercup!”

Buttercup? Was that a general nickname or one just for him?

Judging by the way he glanced at me, it was just for him.

Oh. My. God. He let her call him buttercup. That was the cutest thing I’d ever heard in my life.

“I missed you too,” he replied, straightening. “Nan, this is Mia. Mia, this is my grandmother, Virginia.”

Warm, brown eyes with flecks of amber scanned my face, and she smiled. “Well, aren’t you lovely, dear?” She hugged me.

I returned her embrace and eked out an awkward, “Thank you.”

She tapped one short, light-blue nail against her chin and looked at West. “You can’t bring her in. You know what kind of inappropriate comments are likely to be directed her way.”

“Don’t worry.” West’s lips tugged up to one side. “She’s well acquainted with Beckett. I think she’ll handle Granddad and his warped sense of humor.”

She sighed and looked at me. “My apologies, dear. He’s rather lewd.”

Well...so was her grandson, but I wasn’t going to tell her that, was I?

“Don’t worry. I promise to play along.” I didn’t have much of another choice.

“Where is he?” West asked, following her into the house. He pulled me behind him.

“In his chair. Where he always is.” She rolled her eyes, but it had been said fondly.

“West!” a man bellowed. “Bring her in! Let me see her!”

My eyes widened.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Jeff,” Virginia scolded him, shuffling past West into what I assumed was the living room. “It’s not a livestock auction!”

“Told you,” West muttered. “Hey, Granddad. How are you?” He tugged me into the room after him, giving me the view of his grandfather.

He was tall, almost identical-looking to West—it was obvious to see. That and I recognized him from the photos on the wall at West’s house.

“Oh!” his granddad exclaimed when his gaze landed on me. “She’s a pretty one, ain’t she? Now, I know you didn’t get her by yourself. How much did he have to buy you for to impress me, darlin’?” he asked, directing the last question to me.

I glanced at West. His eyebrows were raised expectantly, and he had a smile stretching across his lips.

I grinned and looked back to his grandfather. “It’s just a loan, sir. He can’t afford me, really.”

“Ha!” he barked out, grasping his cane and pointing it at me. “You ‘ear that, Ginny, darlin’? She’s pretty and sassy! The boy doesn’t stand a chance at keeping her!”

“All right, Granddad. Give it a rest,” West said, but he couldn’t stop grinning as we sat on the sofa. “Did they change your meds again?”

“Sure did, boy.” The older man’s eyes lit up. “And I tell you what,” he continued, putting a hand on the arm of his chair and leaning forward. “They’re f*cking magical.”

I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn’t laugh, but Virginia rolled her eyes.

“Stop being so eccentric, Jeff, and mind your language. You’ll scare her off,” she told him.

He barked out another laugh. “West’ll do that by himself. She’s way too pretty for him. Look at her. She should be in those commercials I tell you I don’t record.”

“Can I get anyone a drink?” Virginia asked to break through his ramblings, her lips pursed. She was clearly amused but just good at hiding it.

I politely declined, but West took a coffee, and as soon as she’d disappeared, he turned to his grandfather and asked, “What commercials are you recording this time?”

“Them Victoria Secret ones.” He cackled, leaning back in the chair and loudly tapping his cane against the floor once. “Got some right beauties on ‘em.”

So. Five minutes in and West’s grandfather thought I should be a Victoria Secret model. That might have been one of the most flattering things that’d ever been said to me.

“How’s Beckett?” he asked. “Still sleeping with the ladies?” He punctuated it with the waggle of his eyebrows.

Again, I had to force myself not to laugh.

“If, by ladies, you mean strippers,” West replied dryly, “then no. I told him he had to stop.”

“Pish! This is why you’re the boring one.” His grandfather looked to me. “How did you meet?”

I clicked my tongue and looked at West. “At my best friend’s bachelorette party.”