Raid (Unfinished Hero #3)(8)
“It’s only a couple of bags. I’m good,” I announced, and Grams looked at me.
“Get yourself a cold drink, Hanna, sit down. Let the menfolk help you take a load off,” she said then tipped her head way back to look up at a now standing Raiden. “Hanna, my precious girl, she runs herself ragged takin’ care of this old biddy. You help out, it’d help me out.”
“Not a problem,” he rumbled and moved to round the coffee table.
Grams kept talking. “Now, she’s sure to have brought me some ice cream. You get that in, child, you put it in the freezer. You hear?”
Raiden was closing in on me, his eyes on me, mine glued to him, and he winked at me as he replied to Grams, “Yes, ma’am.”
I found it miraculous that, at the wink, I didn’t melt into a puddle.
He disappeared.
Grams prompted, “Hanna. Fill me up and get yourself a cool drink.”
I jerked out of my daze, and lightning fast I filled her tea, filled Raiden’s glass and rushed to the kitchen in hopes I got my “cool drink” before Raiden got in with the last of the groceries.
This was foiled as he walked in while I was walking out with a bottle of diet root beer.
Therefore, since his huge frame filled the doorway, blocking my escape, I was stuck in the kitchen with him.
“Sweet ride,” he said, eyes on me.
I looked to his chest. “Sorry?”
He dumped the groceries on the counter. “The Z. Sweet.”
Oh God.
My car.
And I was wearing white jeans and a white, fitted, scoop-necked tee.
The last time, I matched my bike.
This time, I matched my car.
I matched my car!
Luckily, I had a slim black belt and a pair of black gladiator sandals on so at least that was something.
Seeing as his eyes were on me even as his hands were in the bag, I felt it necessary to respond.
“Yeah.”
Yes, that was all I could get out.
He looked down at the bags, muttering, “She drives a Z and all she can do is agree it’s sweet.”
“I got her because she’s pretty,” I informed him, sounding like an idiot, but also telling the truth.
It was just the idiotic truth.
Raiden pulled out the carton of ice cream and shot another smile my way. My legs went weak and he headed to the freezer, talking.
And, incidentally, rocking my world by calling me honey again.
“Honey, the wheels on her, I’d give you my Jeep just to drive on those wheels. Smart upgrade, the sports package.”
“Sorry?”
He shoved the ice cream in the freezer and turned to me. “You got the sports package.”
“I did?”
His head cocked to the side and again it was sexy as all blooming heck. His brows snapped together. They were as lush as his hair, which made the whole maneuver seriously sexy as all blooming heck.
“You didn’t know you got the sports package?”
“The sports package?”
“Yeah, on the Z. You didn’t know you had that upgrade?”
“Is that, um… more?” I asked.
“As in, more money?” he asked back.
“Yes,” I whispered, definitely feeling like an idiot.
Raiden wasn’t looking at me like I was an idiot.
He looked weirdly angry.
“Yeah, Hanna. It’s more money. Like, a f**kuva lot more money. The dealership didn’t tell you that?”
“No,” I told him, and his head jerked to straight again.
“Where’d you go?” he asked.
“Bob’s,” I answered.
“You go alone?” he pressed.
“As in, by myself,” I asked (yes, idiotically!).
“Yeah, a woman alone buyin’ a car. Did you go by yourself?”
“Yeah,” I told him.
His mouth got tight and he walked back to the bags, muttering, “Bob just got scratched on my to-do list.”
What did that mean?
Before I could ask, he spoke again.
“Any of this need to go in the fridge?”
“You can go back out, finish your tea. I’ll do it,” I said, and he turned his head to me.
“You do everything for her?”
“Everything?”
Yes, still being an idiot.
He flipped his hand out to the groceries. “Yeah, everything.”
“She still cooks but I, uh… get her groceries in every Thursday, then I clean her house. And I take her to church Sunday morning and we have breakfast together after. Oh, and I take her out to dinner every Tuesday night. And, of course, to mah jongg every Monday morning. But mostly, she does her own thing.”
Raiden turned to me. “Don’t you have a brother?”
“He lives in California.”
“Folks?” he pushed.
“They’re in Arizona,” I replied.
“They all left her with just you?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, no, but yeah,” I babbled. “What I’m saying is,” I carried on in an attempt to make sense (for once). “Mom and Dad wanted her to go to Arizona with them, but she refused to go. But Mom got in a really bad car accident about two years before they moved. It was snowy and she never really liked driving in snow. That just capped it. She became terrified. Dad got a transfer offer to Tucson and they wanted to take it, go down there, Dad working until retirement, Mom getting a part-time job. Kind of semi-retirement. Grams, well, she’s old, but she’s still good on her own. She’s busy. She has a lot of callers. Someone is by every day, not just me. And Grams and I are close so I’m good with, uh… popping by and seeing to things. So I talked them into going and Grams was right there with me. She didn’t want to delay their retirement preparations since she’s convinced she’s never going to die and daily proves that she’s right so, uh… they went.”