All I Believe (Firsts and Forever, #10)

All I Believe (Firsts and Forever, #10) By Alexa Land



Chapter One

If we made it through the TSA checkpoint without getting arrested, it would be a freaking miracle.

“Please, Nana?” I implored from the far side of the full-body scanner. “Just go through. Our flight’s about to begin boarding.” I almost dropped my laptop and shifted the precarious bundle in my arms. My boarding pass was wrinkled in my hand, and I clutched my belt, watch, jacket, backpack and shoes to my chest.

My grandmother put her hands on her hips and glared at the two TSA agents who were trying to herd her through the scanner. She was eighty years old and five-foot-nothing, but she was also the fiercest person I knew. “No way am I going through that new-fangled x-ray machine,” she huffed. “I heard about them things. They take a picture of you with all your clothes off. Next thing you know, that shit’s all over the internet! My neighbors could see me! You think I want that * across the street, Mr. homophobic what’s-his-name, to get a look at my lady bits? Hell no! I don’t want that old pervert spanking the monkey to all of this!” She pointed to her relatively flat chest with both hands.

“It doesn’t take a picture, Nana,” Jessie told her as he loaded a grey plastic bin with his sneakers and pushed it onto the conveyor belt leading to the x-ray machine. “It just does a quick scan and shows if you’re carrying anything metal.” The cute blond had been hired as my grandmother’s chauffeur a few months back, and while he still drove her around, his job description had evolved to include companion, assistant, and now travel buddy. He said, “It’ll be fine, I promise. If you want, I’ll go next. Maybe they’ll let you look at my scan on their screen so you can see it doesn’t show anything.”

Nana knit her brows. “What if you’re wrong and I get a good look at your wienie dongle? I mean, I seen plenty in my day. I raised three sons and four grandsons. I even seen some of that, you know, adult entertainment on the internet. I only looked because at first I couldn’t figure out how my gay homosexual grandson and his boyfriend were getting it on. I didn’t get how two pipes could fit together. Basically, I needed a plumbing diagram, so I watched some man-on-man stuff. Now I get it. Mostly. I still have some questions about lubrication, though. That reminds me, Mr. Mario and I went to the adult shop last week so I could get you and Nico some condoms for vacation.” Her friend and hairdresser was always far too willing to assist Nana on her super inappropriate shopping adventures. “I picked up some different kinds of lubricants, too. According to the films and Mr. Mario, you need a lot of the slippery stuff if you want to—”

I interrupted as a raging blush ignited my cheeks. “Please just go through the scanner, Nana. I’m sure these nice TSA agents really don’t want to hear about—” I cut myself off that time, when I noticed the agent sitting at the conveyer belt had pulled a huge bottle of anal lube out of my grandmother’s big, black handbag. He stared at me humorlessly and Jessie burst out laughing.

“You’re not supposed to bring that much liquid through security, Nana,” Jessie told my grandmother. The agent pulled a silver flask and a second type of lube from the handbag.

“Oh God,” I whispered. When a third jar of lube was placed beside the growing collection on the counter, I leaned forward and thumped my forehead against the scanner. That earned me a quick admonishment from the nearest TSA agent.

A crowd was forming behind Nana and becoming restless. “Ma’am, we can pat you down over there if you don’t want to go through the scanner,” a big agent told Nana, indicating a cordoned-off area to the left.

My grandmother looked him up and down and said, “Sounds fun.” When a female agent stepped forward to do the pat-down, Nana seemed disappointed. I was relieved when she actually passed and was allowed to go through. She said, “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. I left my .44 at home, just like my grandson Nico told me to. That’s him right there.” She pointed to me, and I smiled weakly at the half dozen agents who’d gathered around us.

Nana stuck her stockinged feet back into her white, low-heeled pumps, then put on the jacket that went with her pink Chanel suit. When she tried to collect the lube that had been removed from her purse and was told it was being confiscated, she loudly exclaimed, “Get your own! I bought that for my boys, Nico and Jessie. They’re going on vacation, and I know they’re both going to find some sexy Sicilian men to play hide the salami. That’s what young, single people do! I bought them condoms because I don’t think they know how to ask for them in Italian. I don’t think they know how to ask a shopkeeper for lubricant, either. Come to think of it, I don’t know the word for butt lube myself, so we definitely need to take that with us.”


She grabbed a thick tube of what had to be a novelty product, since it said ‘Bacon-Flavored Booty Butter’ in big, pink letters. A cartoon pig gave a thumbs-up above the words ‘Kosher, Vegan, and Gluten Free.’ The tube also featured a smiling portrait of a former porn star who weirdly enough, I actually knew a little. Wow. Next time I ran into Hunter Storm, I was going to have to ask about the bacon lube.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” said the female agent who’d patted her down, “but you can’t take that on the plane.”

She tried to take the lube from Nana, but my grandmother held it out of reach and demanded, “Why the hell not? Do you think this is some terrorist plot to lubricate the plane and make it slip from the sky? That’s not how shit works, sister.”

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