Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2)(52)

He’d apologize, and explain that it had been a onetime thing, a mistake. He’d offer to leave if she’d like him to.

She wouldn’t actually make him leave, right? She’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

He came to his feet, but stopped when he heard the sound of hooves from down the road. Why was Bikram here, when they’d only talked a few hours ago?

A flash of crimson came through the trees.

Oh no.

Another flash, and the shadow of a huge black stallion.

Oh no.

Had Bikram known? Surely he would have said something if he had.

The horse and rider emerged from the copse of trees. His grandpa came to a stop a few feet away, his devil horse’s feet kicking up in the air a little. The old man had always been a showboat, and he wasn’t becoming more discreet as he aged. His signature bright-red turban was the least dramatic thing about him.

Andrés Singh was locally and nationally known as the Peach Prince. Within the family, he was known as a tough son of a bitch. Jas had firsthand knowledge of how tough he could be.

The horse settled and Andrés lifted his chin at him, an action Jas immediately mirrored. They were similar in many ways: their thick eyebrows, their high cheekbones, their physique.

Their stubbornness.

Andrés slid off his horse and patted the animal on the neck before walking toward Jas. The man was as tall as Jas was, though age had stooped his shoulders. His denim shirt and worn jeans could be found on any other farmhand, but he’d always carried himself with an air of command. “Jasvinder,” he said.

Jas took his gardening gloves off and slapped them against his palm. “Grandpa. You were supposed to be out of the country.” And he’d be texting Bikram immediately to ask him what he thought Jas had meant by don’t tell anyone I’m here. First his brother told their mom, now—

Ah. His mom. He should have known, since he hadn’t gotten a single phone call from her in days. She’d surely blabbed.

His grandfather’s dark gaze pinned Jas. When he was a kid, those eyes could have made him confess anything and everything that could be classified even moderately as mischief. “Plans change, boy. Sorry to disappoint you.” His gaze slid over Jas’s shoulder.

Jas’s heart both sank and sped up. He glanced behind him. Katrina stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen, flour on her apron and face. With her rolled-up shirtsleeves and snug jeans, she looked like a farm woman with a penchant for baking, not a wealthy investor.

Katrina cocked her head and returned his grandfather’s inspection. “Hello.”

Andrés’s mustache quivered. His beard hadn’t grown any less thick and luxurious as he aged. “I presume you are Katrina. Hardeep’s wife.” It would be hard not to hear the disdain Andrés heaped on Hardeep’s name.

This was a shit show.

“I am.” Katrina came outside and extended her hand. “You’re Jas’s grandfather?”

“I am. Andrés Singh.”

She shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Her eyes met Jas’s and skittered away.

He mentally kicked his own ass again. The stupid kiss.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality. Your farm, or what I’ve seen of it, is beautiful.”

“No need to thank me. I didn’t even know you were here.”

Jas took a step forward. There was no need to make Katrina feel like she was imposing. “You didn’t need to know. I told Bikram.” Who told Mom, who definitely told you. “And this is my house.”

Andrés gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Of course it is.”

“Would you like some tea?” Katrina stepped aside. “I’m afraid I’ve been baking, so the kitchen is a mess, but if you don’t mind that . . .”

His grandfather lifted his head and sniffed. “What’s that I smell? Cookies, perhaps?”

“Mom said you’re watching how many sweets you eat,” Jas interjected, unable to help himself. Just because he was in a semi-feud with his grandpa didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned about his health.

“I don’t need you to lecture me on my diet,” his grandfather said coolly, and sailed into the house, past Katrina.

His grandfather was mad at him, too, but this went deeper than Bikram’s annoyance with him for not staying longer at his engagement party. This went back almost two decades.

His grandfather froze when he entered the kitchen, and he turned in a slow circle.

Katrina wrung her hands. “I know, the place is a mess.”

Andrés waved that away. “The kitchen hasn’t been used like this since my wife passed twenty years ago. I don’t come here much. Startling to see signs of life in it.”

He hadn’t known his grandpa had avoided the place. Jas softened.

Katrina visibly melted into a puddle of goo. She gestured to the table. “Please, have a seat.”

Doodle padded into the kitchen and immediately made her way over to Andrés. “Who is this?” Andrés asked. The dog leaned into his petting.

“My new dog,” Katrina said with pride. “Doodle.”

“A stray we found,” Jas said quietly. “Do you know of any neighbors who might be missing her?”

Andrés cupped the dog’s face. “No. I’ve never seen a beauty like her. You know how it is. Lots of strays out here.”