Page 75 of Meet Hate Love
“Damn… I think I have a thing for kilts now.”
“Right?”
She passed the device back, and I swiped to the next photo. One of Revelation Jesus. I dropped my phone to my lap, then grabbed my glass of wine from the coffee table. “Charlie and the Chocolate Starfish.”
Margot frowned into her empty glass before reaching for the bottle. “Do I want to know why that picture made you mention that titillating film?”
“Don’t use nice words to try to make it any better, Margot. And I’ll tell you why that picture made me think of your porn. Because in an effort to help Vance get an erection to take a picture of his dick in the Sistine Chapel, I pulled up that movie, put an earbud into his ear, and pressed play.”
She slapped a hand over her mouth, probably to keep her from spitting out the mouthful of wine she’d gulped back. “You played ass porn in the Sistine Chapel?”
“Ass porn?”
“What the hell did you think the chocolate starfish was?”
It being anal made it seem so much worse. “Why are you watching ass porn?”
Tilting back her glass, she shrugged. “Because he’s hot…”
“The girl screams the Oompah Loompa song when she comes, Margot!”
“And she makes me believe it’s a natural thing. If that doesn’t deserve an award, I don’t know what does.”
I took one of her fur-covered throw pillows and whacked her with it. A text from Vance pinged on my phone.
Landed. Miss you already, babe.??
Margot peered over my shoulder as I typed out:Miss you, too.
“Holy shit. You guys aren’t just fucking! What the hell happened in Europe?”
And the answer to that was I was pretty sure I’d fallen stupidly, hopelessly in love.
ChapterTwenty-Two
VANCE
I checked my phone as soon as the plane touched down in Alabama. Betty had messaged to relay that Grandma had only suffered a minor heart attack, but the doctors wanted to keep her for a few days of observation. Which would go down like flies on shit.
My last year of high school, Grandma had hit a telephone pole head-on. When she’d come to in the emergency room, she yanked out the IVs, told the doctors, “Healing was all in the head,” called a cab to pick her up, then left—still wearing the hospital gown. So, it didn’t surprise me when the first thing I heard after stepping off the elevator and into the bitter smell of antiseptic was my grandma giving someone hell.
I passed the nurse’s station. I didn’t need to ask where her room was because her fiery voice rose above the beeps and whirs of machines. God bless whatever medical professional was in her suite.
Grandma’s tirade hadn’t let up by the time I’d slipped into her room.
“Ain’t no reason to keep me in here like some kind of lab rat. Poking and prodding me.” She sat in the hospital bed, glaring at the blonde nurse replacing her IV bag. “Just trying to make me suffer.”
“Grandma, be nice.”
A smile replaced the scowl on her wrinkled face when she noticed me in the doorway. “Well, I’ll be. My grandson’s here.” She shook a finger at me, the frown returning when she redirected her attention to the nurse. “And he’ll tell you ain’t no reason for you to be keeping me up in this place. Smells like bleach and urine.”
The nurse pressed a button on the machine. “Mrs. Morgan, the doctors just want to keep you for observation for the next few days and—”
Huffing, she crossed her arms over her the faded-blue gown. Her gaze swung right back to me. “Would you tell these doggone people I’m fine?”
“Grandma, if they say they need to keep you,” I stopped beside the bed and leaned down to kiss her forehead, “They need to keep you.”
“They need the money from my Medicaid, is what they need. Bunch of crooks.”
