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Authors: Cheryl Wyatt
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sensible.”
Sensible? Lauren eyed her foot attire. “Hmm. I wonder when I went from stilettos to Dr. Scholl’s.”
He laughed. “Lem said you love to dress up.”
“Not anymore.” Fairy tales were made only to destroy little girls’ dreams. She unlocked her seat belt.
“Really?” He lent his hand, helping her from the truck. Warmth trickled up her palm and her wrist.
Once down she swiped her hand across her leg, but the feeling didn’t go away. “Occasionally I used to dress up and go out with my girl pals on weekends.”
His eyebrows lifted as they headed in. “Used to?”
She shrugged. “Too much going on. I let my social life dwindle.” Her dating life, too, thanks to her reclusiveness since the lawsuit. Another reason she didn’t want to be around Mitch.
Everything about him reminded her of what she’d lost or given up. A career in the medical profession she’d dreamed of since a childhood tragedy took her parents away. Then the loss of her young patient that took that dream away.
Not only had her patient’s death in childbirth left a newborn motherless, Lauren knew what it felt like to grow up without a mom, which is why she clung all the more to Grandpa.
Plus Mitch’s closeness with Grandpa put her mind in a dark place and brought to light just how far she’d drifted away. After all, Grandpa’s pantry was loaded with Dr. Pepper, which Mitch drank. Not the Pepsi or Coke she liked.
She didn’t blame Grandpa for filling the void, but at least he could focus on her a smidge more than Mitch during her stay here. But Grandpa seemed oblivious to the idea for some reason, which admittedly stung. And scared her.
Were his mental faculties slipping?
Grandpa used to know her like the back of his eyelids during sleep. He had always perceived her feelings and soothed them.
Something had changed. Shifted.
And it was as depressing as school on a snow day.
When she reached the counter with her fountain soda, Mitch was waiting with a case of Coke and Dr. Pepper. “I got this.” He included her soda in his bill, then leaned close at her befuddlement. “Don’t protest. Just say thanks.”
Making matters worse, Mitch smelled like a man, smiled like he meant it and stared at her like she could someday mean something to him. Despite that she’d been intentionally cranky.
In short, he sounded, looked and felt like family.
But she wasn’t about to be stupid enough to tell him.
* * *
“I insist!” Lem said upon their arrival.
Mitch and Lauren’s gazes collided. They cracked simultaneous smiles. No doubt they were thinking the same thing. There was no arguing with Lem after his mind was made up.
“Okay, Grandpa. You can make us dinner.” Lauren’s wink did funny things to his pulse. Lauren’s gaze glittered. His lingered. He felt stricken with how, in moments like these where Lem’s one-of-a-kind quirks surfaced, he felt magnetically drawn to Lauren.
No matter how much they disagreed, their mutual love and admiration for Lem became an unexpected bond for them.
He snuck Lauren’s case of soda into the pantry. Lem was probably too preoccupied with house repairs to ponder his usual special touches. A tiny reminder couldn’t hurt because the twinge of pain in Lauren’s eyes each time she had to move something of Mitch’s over in the pantry or fridge was beginning to undo him.
Lem gave a grand arm wave. “In fact, you should’ve brought your entire trauma team. I imagine they’re hungry after all that hard work.”
“I invited them, but Ian’s helping Kate move. She found an apartment, though it’s farther from the center than she had wanted.”
“Well, let ’em know they’re always welcome here.”
“They know, Gramps.” Ugh. Lauren stiffened every time Mitch used the title. Yet Lem was the one who had requested Mitch call him that. Maybe he hadn’t expected the hurt it caused Lauren.
If Lem knew how much it bothered her, he’d probably dissuade Mitch from referring to
Sensible? Lauren eyed her foot attire. “Hmm. I wonder when I went from stilettos to Dr. Scholl’s.”
He laughed. “Lem said you love to dress up.”
“Not anymore.” Fairy tales were made only to destroy little girls’ dreams. She unlocked her seat belt.
“Really?” He lent his hand, helping her from the truck. Warmth trickled up her palm and her wrist.
Once down she swiped her hand across her leg, but the feeling didn’t go away. “Occasionally I used to dress up and go out with my girl pals on weekends.”
His eyebrows lifted as they headed in. “Used to?”
She shrugged. “Too much going on. I let my social life dwindle.” Her dating life, too, thanks to her reclusiveness since the lawsuit. Another reason she didn’t want to be around Mitch.
Everything about him reminded her of what she’d lost or given up. A career in the medical profession she’d dreamed of since a childhood tragedy took her parents away. Then the loss of her young patient that took that dream away.
Not only had her patient’s death in childbirth left a newborn motherless, Lauren knew what it felt like to grow up without a mom, which is why she clung all the more to Grandpa.
Plus Mitch’s closeness with Grandpa put her mind in a dark place and brought to light just how far she’d drifted away. After all, Grandpa’s pantry was loaded with Dr. Pepper, which Mitch drank. Not the Pepsi or Coke she liked.
She didn’t blame Grandpa for filling the void, but at least he could focus on her a smidge more than Mitch during her stay here. But Grandpa seemed oblivious to the idea for some reason, which admittedly stung. And scared her.
Were his mental faculties slipping?
Grandpa used to know her like the back of his eyelids during sleep. He had always perceived her feelings and soothed them.
Something had changed. Shifted.
And it was as depressing as school on a snow day.
When she reached the counter with her fountain soda, Mitch was waiting with a case of Coke and Dr. Pepper. “I got this.” He included her soda in his bill, then leaned close at her befuddlement. “Don’t protest. Just say thanks.”
Making matters worse, Mitch smelled like a man, smiled like he meant it and stared at her like she could someday mean something to him. Despite that she’d been intentionally cranky.
In short, he sounded, looked and felt like family.
But she wasn’t about to be stupid enough to tell him.
* * *
“I insist!” Lem said upon their arrival.
Mitch and Lauren’s gazes collided. They cracked simultaneous smiles. No doubt they were thinking the same thing. There was no arguing with Lem after his mind was made up.
“Okay, Grandpa. You can make us dinner.” Lauren’s wink did funny things to his pulse. Lauren’s gaze glittered. His lingered. He felt stricken with how, in moments like these where Lem’s one-of-a-kind quirks surfaced, he felt magnetically drawn to Lauren.
No matter how much they disagreed, their mutual love and admiration for Lem became an unexpected bond for them.
He snuck Lauren’s case of soda into the pantry. Lem was probably too preoccupied with house repairs to ponder his usual special touches. A tiny reminder couldn’t hurt because the twinge of pain in Lauren’s eyes each time she had to move something of Mitch’s over in the pantry or fridge was beginning to undo him.
Lem gave a grand arm wave. “In fact, you should’ve brought your entire trauma team. I imagine they’re hungry after all that hard work.”
“I invited them, but Ian’s helping Kate move. She found an apartment, though it’s farther from the center than she had wanted.”
“Well, let ’em know they’re always welcome here.”
“They know, Gramps.” Ugh. Lauren stiffened every time Mitch used the title. Yet Lem was the one who had requested Mitch call him that. Maybe he hadn’t expected the hurt it caused Lauren.
If Lem knew how much it bothered her, he’d probably dissuade Mitch from referring to
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