Page 21 of Anchored

Maple whips around and I have to grind my teeth together to keep staring at my coffee. “No! Seriously, I’m fine. I prefer the floor.”

I dip my head in agreement. I need to get the hell out of the kitchen and not see her again until she’s dressed in something more substantial. Pretty soon these workout shorts won’t be able to hide what’s happening below the waist. “Okay.”

“How about we get Grandma Gracie and bring her back here for the day? I mean, you don’t have to stay. I’m sure there’s things in town you want to do, but I was hoping to bake cookies, swim in the lake, just hang out with Grandma like old times.”

My gaze lifts. “That sounds amazing, actually.”

I’m not a big fan of crowds and noise, so spending another day at the festival wasn’t something I was looking forward to doing after all. A quiet day here at the cabin sounds amazing. “If you don’t mind if I stay.”

Maple crosses her arms over her chest. I look away. “Of course not! It’s your cabin. I’ll just go get dressed.”

I nod and watch her walk out of the kitchen. Shit. The back side isn’t any better than the front. Just a hint of the curve of her ass shows below the hem of those shorts. I dump my coffee in the sink and scrub a hand over my face.

“Get your shit together, McGrath,” I mutter under my breath.

Things are better after a cold shower and a stern talking-to in the mirror as I shave. I refuse to put on my glasses. Seeing Maple’s body any clearer is not going to bode well for me. Blurry, it is.

We get to Sunny Shores before nine and Gracie is excited to come back to the cabin. Maple keeps muttering about feeling guilty for not coming back to Anchor Lake more often to do daily excursions with her grandma. I see that a lot in the retirement homes I own. Families tend to forget about their loved ones, assuming they’re busy with daily activities at the retirement home and don’t need to be visited.

I carry Gracie from my Jeep to the leather recliner in the living room of the cabin. She insists she can walk, but when I call her Queen and tell her she deserves to be treated as one, she giggles and acquiesces. She probably should walk it, but there are pinecones all over outside and squirrels who dig holes to bury their nuts. I shoot off a text to one of our physical therapists to get Gracie out walking at Sunny Shores this week.

“Okay, Grandma,” Maple says, looking excited now that she’s got Gracie back at the cabin. “Oatmeal or chocolate chip?”

Gracie looks a little lost for a second. Then she leans forward and cups Maple’s jaw with her bony hand. “Cowboy, darling.”

Maple claps her hands. “Ah! How could I forget! Cowboy cookies might be my favorite.”

She gets busy in the kitchen pulling out all the ingredients we stopped at the store for before we picked up Gracie. I can just see Maple moving about the kitchen above the countertop and barstools. It takes me a second to realize Gracie is eyeing me while I gawk at her granddaughter.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Gracie flashes a toothy grin. “She’s something, isn’t she?”

My gaze flickers to Maple, taking in her T-shirt, jean shorts, and the little braids peeking out from behind the rest of her wavy hair. “She is.”

“Tell me about your family, Holt.”

I pause, knowing I’ve told Gracie about my family before. Then again, the concussion seemed to have messed with her memory. Clearly. She still thinks I’m Maple’s fiancé and not her physical therapist.

“Well, I have two parents who live here in Anchor Lake. Stephen and Amy. My sister, Jess, and her husband, just had a baby. Little Posy. She’s got dark hair and light eyes. She mostly just sleeps, eats, and makes messes right now.”

Gracie tips her head to the side. “Oh yes. I remember those days. Nothing like starting a family with someone you love. My Colby would be so happy to see you and Maple together. When are you two getting married?”

Maple’s head pops up and she looks over her shoulder to lock eyes with me. Hers go wide, like she’s not sure how to answer.

“Uh, well, we haven’t picked a date yet.”

Maple dashes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel before sitting on the other end of the couch from me. “Hey, Grandma. Remember when we stuck over a hundred American flags in the ground outside for the Fourth of July boat parade? I was thinking we should do that again this summer.”

Gracie’s eyes light up. “Oh! Yes, I remember! We bought so many that cow, June, got angry at us.”

Maple laughs. “She was so mad. She threatened to pluck them all out of our yard and distribute them to every house on the lake.”

Gracie snorts. “It’s not our fault we had more holiday spirit than she did. Thankfully the threat of having her arrested with trespassing kept her from stealing our flags.”

“Whatever happened to her?” Maple asks.

“Oh dear, she died five years ago. Held out longer than we all thought she would. The ornery ones always do. It’s like their nastiness gives them energy.”

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