Page 77 of Sold to the Silver Foxes

“Working on that,” I answer. It takes some doing, but inside of a half hour, I procure two Turkish goose pillows, a fleece throw, and a mobile sleeper cot with integrated USB charger.

Grandma Judy’s eyebrows inch upward. “Thank you. You think of everything, don’t you?”

“Comes with the territory. Hospitality and hostile takeovers use the same checklist—people either rest easy or surrender quickly.”

She snorts—a sound that belongs in a farmhouse kitchen, not an ICU. “Are you staying, Tabitha?”

Tabitha shakes her head. “There’s barely room for your cot. And I need a shower at home. I’ll be back in the morning.”

The wordhomehums beneath her tone—she means the villa. She called the villahome. That has to mean something, doesn’t it? I feel like an insecure teenager. What’s gotten into me?

Guess my heart isn’t useless after all.

I step into the corridor to give Tabitha time with Erin’s nurse when she comes in. To my surprise, Grandma Judy follows, closing the door behind herself.

“Mr. Moretti,” she begins, lowering her voice to hospital volume, “I’m not blind. You’re closer to my age bracket than my granddaughter’s.”

I nod, pocketing my hands. “I am.”

“And I’m guessing you’re not simply funding surgeries for the tax write-off.”

“No, ma’am.”

“Tell me about your intentions.”

I admire her brazenness and give it in return. “I love Tabitha. My intentions are to make a life with her.”

“A life?”

I take a deep breath, release it slowly. Despite the grilling, my heart isn’t acting up. Just my insecurities. “I never expected to find love again at my age?—”

She snorts a laugh. “Wait until you hit your sixties.”

If I do.

I continue, “Tabitha has reshaped what that word means for me. She’s changed everything. For me, for my brothers. I know it’s not conventional, but it’s working for us.”

Her gaze sharpens. “Love is a big word for folk with separate bedrooms.”

I swallow—sudden dryness. “She sleeps in mine more than you’d think. But it’s not about who sleeps where. It’s about how we feel.”

Grandma folds her arms. “Tabitha is a special girl?—”

“Oh, I know.”

She silences me with a stern look. “I’m as freethinking as the next person, even if I’m still wrapping my head around whatever you four have going on. I’ll figure that out. But I want to be clear about something.” She steps closer to me. I tower over her, yet somehow, she makes me feel small under her judgment. Her voice goes quiet and deep. “If you hurt her, there’s nobodyguard, no military, no weapon big enough to save you from what I’ll do. I will end you slowly.”

“Understood—”

“No, I don’t think you do. I’m old, Mr. Moretti. I read true crime novels, I know how to hide a body, and if that fails, I look great in prison orange.”

A laugh sparks, unexpected. “I already fear disappointing her more than a heart attack. Your granddaughter is everything to me.”

She studies me long enough that I feel like she can see every mistake I’ve ever made. “Fine,” she says at last, “but explain something, Mr. Shared-Assets. How is splitting her heart three ways good for a girl who’s never dated anyone seriously?”

I exhale. “Because each of us carries a different piece that she shouldn’t have to surrender. Dante meets her urge for adventure. Nico matches her discipline and creativity. And I know what it is to fall apart and rebuild a new life. Together, we’re the whole package. We can give her the world. Wewantto.”

Grandma’s lips twitch—could be a smile, could be indigestion. “I suppose that makes sense for her. No single man could ever be good enough for Tabitha. Of course she needs three.”

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