Raid (Unfinished Hero #3)(38)

A couple people heard and tittered, proving him right.

I decided we were both done so I grabbed his hand and yanked him down the pew.

Fortunately, he followed me.

We made it to Grams, then we followed in what felt like suspended motion as she made her slow way out of the church, her snail’s pace hindered further with the need to call a greeting to everyone she knew, which was just plain everyone.

Raiden made a break for it at the doors, mumbling his excuse of, “I’ll go get the Jeep.”

Fortunately, this meant when we got to the end of the walk at the front of the church Raiden was there.

Like we had when we came, I climbed into the back and Raiden held Grams steady at waist while she latched on with a bony hand. He mostly lifted her into her seat, but in a way where it made it seem like she put her foot to the edge of the door herself.

We were on our way when I decided a debrief was in order.

“I don’t believe that happened,” I remarked.

“Believe it, chère. Margaret has always been a sourpuss. Makes it worse, she had her sights set on your Granddaddy and never got over losin’ him to your Grandma.”

This was news.

And made the whole situation even more unbelievable.

“Seriously?” I asked. “That had to be fifty years ago, and sorry, Grams, but they’ve both passed. Holding a grudge when there’s no one left to hold it against?”

“Lost love, precious,” Grams replied, turning her head to look out the side window. “Stings like a wasp bite that never fades.”

This made me pause for reflection, especially the knowing way Grams said it, but Grams wasn’t done.

“Probably didn’t help, my boy’s beautiful granddaughter sittin’ next to the town hunk. History, in a way, repeating. Salt in the wound.”

My eyes went to the rearview mirror, caught Raiden’s and they rolled.

When they rolled back, his were back on the road but they were smiling.

We hit the Pancake House, all pancakes, all the time, (no kidding, they had nothing but pancakes, sausage and bacon on their menu); a weird restaurant that did booming business about fifteen miles out of town up the foothills. It had a fabulous view and the best pancakes I’d ever eaten. So good Grams and I never went anywhere else for Sunday breakfast, and this continued the tradition of Dad and Mom taking us all there every Sunday up until the Sunday before they moved to a different state.

As usual, the pancakes didn’t disappoint and breakfast was fun. Grams talked through most of it, which meant Raiden and I laughed through most of it, and Raiden didn’t surprise me by being gentlemanly and charming.

We had syrup covered plates and were on our third cup of coffee when Raiden’s jacket chimed. He took his arm from the back of my seat, dug into his suit jacket that he’d slung on the back of his chair, pulled out his phone, looked at it and turned to me.

“Gotta make a call.” His eyes slid to Grams. “Excuse me.” His attention came back to me, his hand came to my jaw and he tilted my face up to touch his mouth to mine.

That felt nice. I liked that he was making a habit of kissing me when he left me, so my lips tipped up against his.

I watched up close as Raiden’s eyes smiled. He let me go, straightened from his chair and walked away.

I watched the show.

“Now, chère, church with the grandmother and word whizzin’ ‘round town about holdin’ hands, all cozied up at Chilton’s, of all places. Good to know early that boy isn’t about half measures. But I’m guessing you’re sparin’ your old biddy of a Grams the details about how you caught the eye of Willow’s most eligible bachelor.”

I looked at her, grinned a little and replied, “I was running late this morning or I would have called to let you know he was coming with us, but yeah, Grams. Raiden and I are seeing each other.”

“Don’t kid a kidder,” she said softly, and my brows drew together at this unexpected reply.

Unfortunately, she explained.

“Not lost on you I’ve lived me some years, precious, but they didn’t slide by and not touch me. A girl falls asleep at church on Sunday morning because she had too much fun on Saturday night and one look at Raiden Miller says clear exactly what kind of fun he has with a pretty girl.”

That was when I felt my eyes get big.

“Grams, I—”

She waved her hand at me. “Don’t. Got ourselves enough marks on our soul, disprespectin’ God in His house today. Don’t add to that, chère.”

I closed my mouth.

Grams didn’t.

“A week ago, he came to my house. I knew why. He’s got about as much interest in doing an old woman’s yard work as he has in goin’ to the ballet. But I looked up at that big, strong man and thought to myself, Raiden Miller? I liked that for my girl. I liked it a lot. You’ve been alone for a while now and a girl like you, it’s a waste, you bein’ alone. Always knew in my heart you’d stand by the side of a man like Raiden Miller. Those boys you saw, they were okay, but not one of them was good enough for my Hanna. Now hardly any time at all has passed and he didn’t waste a lick of it. He’s diggin’ deep into that heart of yours, with intent, and child, I’m gonna share, it troubles me.”

Again, this was unexpected, but this time not in a confusing way. In an unwelcome one.