Chapter Twenty-Three

“Thank you for joining me,” Grandma says, walking in front of us as Charlee and I sit side by side at the dining room table in her apartment. The dining room light is the only light on and it shines down on us as if we’re in an interrogation room. “It has come to my attention that you two have been copulating before marriage.” She slaps a wooden spoon in her hand and then sets her questioning gaze on us by leaning over the table, pointing the spoon. “Explain yourselves.”

Charlee and I glance at each other before turning back toward Grandma. Thankfully Charlee takes the lead. “You told me to test out the sheets before I said I do. I don’t understand what that could have meant other than . . . copulating.”

“Aah.” She nods and gets back up to pace the length of the dining room table. “So, you’re smart then.” Swiftly she turns. “And how was the engine? Were the pistons . . . thrusting?”

Jesus Christ, as if we’re going to answer that—

“Faster, longer, and thicker than expected,” Charlee says, not even giving it a second thought.

“Charlee, don’t say that shit to your grandma.” I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. I mean . . . longer and thicker is always nice to hear from the girl you’re dating, but never in front of her elders.

Grandma slaps the table with the spoon and then points at me. “And my granddaughter. Was she oiled up and brand new? Or . . . from the used lot?”

Fucking . . . hell.

I run my hand over my forehead. “This is too fucking much.”

Charlee rests her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll answer that for him. Slightly used but in excellent condition.”

Despite the sex swirly.

“That’s what I like to hear. So, the coupling has been received well on both ends?”

“Yes.” And from the corner to my eye, I see Charlee point at me with her thumb. “And someone is a little more virile than anticipated. The question I really ask myself every day is when does he not have a boner?”

“Wow.” I perk my head up to look at her. “So, we’re going there with your grandma? We’re really going there?”

“This is couple’s counseling.” Grandma waves her hands. “It’s time to air it all out.”

“Fine,” I say to Charlee before facing her grandma. “Your granddaughter struts around my apartment naked without a care in the world. Last night, I found her lounging on the couch, naked, legs spread, and watching porn.”

Charlee leans forward and says, “It wasn’t porn, it was a romantic short with sex.”

“That’s porn,” I deadpan. “What am I supposed to do with that? Not get a boner?”

Grandma scratches the side of her face with the wooden spoon. “I see your penis predicament here.” And then she leans over the table and right in front of me gives Charlee a high five. “That’s my girl, did you pinch your nipple too?”

“Casually,” Charlee answers. I think back to way she was in fact, playing with her nipple.

“Classic move from our side of the family. Sorry, Rath, you had no chance.”

Clearly.

“Dog or cat,” Grandma says.

We both say dog at the same time.

“Ham or bacon.”

Bacon we agree and then smile at each other.

We’re facing one another, holding hands, having to answer right away as Grandma taps her wooden spoon to a beat and throws rapid-firing questions at us.

“Coffee or tea.”

Together, we say smoothie and then laugh right before leaning in and giving each other a kiss.

Fuck, we’re adorable.

Grandma is not amused.

“City or beach.”

City, we answer.

“Children, yes or no.”

Yes.

My heart flips in my chest and she shyly smiles at me. Fuck. The thought of having children with Charlee does something to my resolve. It breaks down that last shield I’m trying to hang on to. Little Charlees running around, big blue eyes staring up at me. Yeah, I could see it.

“Baseball or football?”

“Football,” I answer easily.

“Baseball,” Charlee says at the same time. Both of us perk up from our answers.

“Football?” She cringes. “Because of that fantasy football league you have?

The one that’s practically non-existent at this point because we’re all too busy with our girls. Hell, we barely see Roark since he met Sutton. Getting him to meet up for fantasy football is next to impossible.

“I mean, it’s a fun sport to watch.”

Charlee leans over and pats my cheek. “Sweetie, you love baseball. Baseball,” she says more menacing.

And oddly, it works. “Oh yeah, I meant baseball.”

Both women smile at me with contentment.

Oh man, I’m totally fucked.

Grandma paces back and forth in front of me while Charlee sits to the side. She was just bombarded with questions about her intentions with me, which she answered perfectly and honestly. I believe she was speaking from the heart while answering every single one of them, and fuck, that was good to hear. She wants this. She wants me.

I’ve made it through ten tough questions ranging from spending time at work compared to spending time with her, and the relationship my parents share. I think I’ve nailed every question up to this point.

“As you know, my dear girl was left at the altar.” Charlee shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “I want to know if you have any intentions of doing the same thing to her.”

“Never,” I say, not even having to give the answer thought. Looking at Charlee, I say, “The man who left her at the altar did me a great favor, by giving me the opportunity to get lost in this girl myself. And now that I’m lost, there’s no way I could find my way out, even if I wanted to.” I smile. “She’s stuck with me.”

“Oh dear,” Grandma says, holding the spoon to her chest. “That was, well . . . that was just a lovely answer. Makes this old lady’s heart tick harder in a good way.”

Satisfied—finally—she puts her spoon to rest and says, “I think my work here is done. You two are ready to walk down the aisle.”

“You really think so, Grandma?”

She nods. “Yes. You are compatible on many levels. There’s a layer of respect for each other I’m not sure I’ve ever seen in a couple, even your mom and dad, Charlee. Makes me wonder if co-workers to lovers is the way to go when meeting the person you’re meant to be with.”

Taking Charlee’s hand in mine, I say, “Well, it’s certainly a high level of respect I have for her.”

Looking sly, she says, “Is it because I came back to work despite you firing me after the first hour of working for you?”

What the . . .

I hop out of my chair faster than expected as I point at her ridiculously. “I fucking knew it. I fucking knew I fired you.” I chuckle and shake my head at her, pulling on the short strands of my hair. “Holy fuck, babe, you have some balls.”

“I prefer to be known to have massive ovaries, not balls, thank you.”

Grandma stares at us, confused. “You fired my angel on the first day?”

“Oh, he did.” Charlee looks so mischievous right now . . . sinister and happy. “I think I came on a little too strong for him, he regretted his decision to hire me, and told me to leave. I knew what he meant but, he never actually said I was fired. Well, you can only imagine what that did to me.”

“Oh dear.” Grandma laughs. “You don’t ever fire my girl on the first day; that’s just asking for trouble. She’ll wheedle herself into your life before you even know what’s happening.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Hands on hips now, head bent in disbelief. “Did you know I thought I was going crazy?”

Charlee lets out a loud laugh and nods. “Oh my God, your confused look was everything. I wish I took a video of that morning when you came waltzing off the elevator only to run into me. But hey, it all worked out, didn’t it?”

I walk over to her, tip her chin up, and say, “If I were a smarter man, I would fire you right here and now for such disobedience, but I don’t have it in me.”

“She’s weakened you.” Grandma nods. “Happens to the best of us.”

With that beautiful smile spread across her face, Charlee says, “I dare you to fire me.”

I shake my head and press a very light kiss to her lips. “Not going to happen.”

“Oh, you two are so sweet together,” Grandma says and takes a seat in the living room. We follow her and when Charlee tries to sit on the other end of the couch, I pull her in by the hand and force her to sit next to me. I wrap an arm around her shoulders and hold her tight. One thing I’ve realized tonight is that I’m fucking glad we didn’t have to fake anything for Charlee’s grandma. I hate lying, any falsehoods, and to have had to pretend in front of this lady would have pained me. It’s not how my parents raised me. It’s not the man I am. Now that I know her peace of mind is real, I need to try and achieve that for my girl. Addressing Grandma, I ask, “How are you feeling these days? Any news we’re unaware of?”

The smile on Grandma’s face fades as she looks toward the window, her hands tying in knots in her lap.

Charlee tenses next to me and I hope I didn’t overstep my boundary, but thankfully she doesn’t pull away. She snuggles in closer while her gaze is fixed on her grandma.

Finally, Grandma says, “Nothing new to report. But hopefully we’re getting to the bottom of things soon.”

So evasive. I can understand how frustrating it must be for Charlee and her family to not know anything, because frankly, I’m irritated not knowing.

“Well, if you need any specialist or anything like that, please let me know. I have a lot of contacts in this city and can pull strings if you need them.” Charlee nuzzles into me more. Little does she know, I’d pull any string to make sure Charlee stays happy.

“That’s very kind of you, Rath. I’ll let you know if it comes to that.”

Wanting to push her a little, just for Charlee’s benefit, I ask, “Does the doctor still believe it’s serious?”

Grandma finally looks in our direction and, on a sigh, she smiles and says, “How about we talk about the wedding plans? That sounds more fun than talking about an old lady’s health.”

“We’re just concerned,” Charlee says.

We.

Charlee said we. The term is unexpected and yet it makes me feel included, like I’m not just hanging out with these two while they have their family connection, but actually a part of something.

“I know, Chuckie, and I said to let me handle it. I don’t need you worrying about me, not when I have everything under control. Now tell me about the plans. It’s only five weeks away, right?”

I nod while Charlee is a little more resigned, most likely upset from not being able to understand her grandma’s declining health. If I were Charlee, I’d demand to be at those doctors’ appointments so I could find out exactly what’s going on. But that’s me. Charlee seems to be a little more reserved when it comes to her grandma. Although she has a take-charge personality, especially with me in the office, she’s willing to submit to her grandma’s brush-off.

“I think we have a few things coming up in the next week, right, babe?” I ask, shaking her shoulder a little to help her get out of her funk.

“What? Oh yes.” She nods and tries to perk up. “We have quite a few appointments this week.”

“Oh? Like what?” Grandma asks with excitement, the awkward moment shifting.

“Cake testing, going to the venue, and food testing. We’re sending out invites soon and we need to pick flowers, and then attend dance lessons.”

“Dance lessons?” I ask, not remembering that on the list.

“It’s one lesson. A requirement from the old hag sitting in front of us,” Charlee says with a teasing lilt.

“Old hag?” Grandma brings her hand to her chest. “How dare you suggest I’m old. A hag, I will take, but old—”

“You’re eighty; you’re old.”

“But young at heart.” She winks at me.

We spend the rest of the night going over wedding décor and all of our ideas. I watch Charlee slowly come back to life while her Grandma oohs and aahs over the meticulous and well-thought-out plans. The woman beside me is an organizational genius. I knew that before now, especially from the emails I received from those who attended Charlee’s presentation earlier. And she’s all mine.

Later that night, when we’re back at my apartment, Charlee curls into my side, rests her head on my bare chest, and falls asleep. We’re both naked, but there’s nothing sexual about our embrace. It’s her clinging to me for support, seeking some relief in the stress consuming her. I realize, this is something I might get every night with her. Charlee curled into me, using me as her support system . . . her rock.