Page 65 of Mr. Dangerous

"You're looking quite sprightly, Grandma. I don't know what you're going onabout."

"I'm in my eighties, sweetheart. Naomi, how old are yourgrandparents?"

Naomi was taking the long, curving on-ramp for the highway, her petite body tilting slightly with the wheel. "I don't know how old they would be off the top of my head. They'vepassedaway."

"See?"

"Did you really just use the untimely passing of Noami's grandparents to prove a point to me?" I asked. "I'm sorry,Naomi."

Grandmother said, "It's not untimely. I'm comfortable with the thought of my own mortality, but I'm not nearly as comfortable with the thought of how you boys are all spread to the seven winds, barely speaking to eachother."

"We talk on thephone."

"You talk to your father on the phone? How often? Yourbrothers?"

Naomi watched the road wide-eyed, trying not to listen to our conversation. I couldn't help but flash back to Mitch’s lectures on how much the helpoverhears.

"Are you really quizzing me on how often I talk to Liam and Nicky and Josh? Do you want agraph?"

"A bar chart would probably be mostsuitable."

I tilted my eyes heavenward, dramatically appealing for help, but none was forthcoming from the gray fabric ceiling of the Suburban. "Anyway, you don't really just want us to talk to each other more. I don't know why you're pretending that's what's so importanttoyou."

Naomi's eyes flickeredmyway.

"That is important to me," she protested."And if a house be divided against each other, it cannotstand."

"You're quoting Lincoln just because we all have our ownlives?"

"I'm quoting the bible, you handsome barbarian," she said, leaning forward to ruffle my short hair like I was a boy again. Her touch felt strange on my scalp, sending a note of tension rippling down my spine, but I didn't move. "Good lord. I told your father he should send you boys to privateschool."

I didn't answer. I was glad that I had gone to public school. Glad I had gone to school withNaomi.

Even if Naomi was staring out at the road with unnecessary intensity, looking more than a littlepissedoff.

By the time we arrived at Logan Airport, I was grateful to get out of the car, which had rapidly chilled into icy silence when I wasn't eager to converse with my outspoken grandmother. And Naomi was still cool, speaking as little to me as possible. She shot daggers at me with those rich brown eyes whenever my grandmother turnedherback.

Which wasn't what I wanted to do with Naomi when her back was turned. I was eager to push her up against the wall, kiss her again, and fuck her wildly until she was willing to settle for a fling.An amazing, satisfying fling that we'd both remember for the rest of theirlives.

But instead, I walked side-by-side with my grandmother as Naomi trailed behind into the terminal. Liam's flight was unexpectedly delayed by an hour, so we had some timetokill.

"You can't be that old," I told her lightly. "Look at the heels you're stillwearing."

"Most women my age are in orthopedic shoes," she said. "I'm quite grateful my ankles and Achilles have held out sobeautifully."

"Grateful to who? Do you have more KJVforthat?"

"You remember my translation of choice! Howsweet."

"Why is it yourfavorite?"

"The beauty of the language, my dear." She looked her arm through my elbow, and no matter how mad she made me, I tugged her into my side. My tiny, brilliant, manipulative, firecracker of a grandmother. There was no one else quitelikeher.

"After all," she went on, "Religion should bebeautiful."

Naomi caught back up to us, taking a few quick strides ahead before she turned back. Her eyes studiously avoided me. "I'm going to stop in at thebookstore."

"Naomi, come have a drink with us.” I was being unrepentantly selfish. Naomi probably wanted a break from Delaneys.Iwanted a break from theDelaneys.

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