Page 20 of Hooked
That approach in climbing had led to success. He was a far better climber than the crazy kid who’d thrown himself up rock walls and hoped he might stick.
He’d met Tayla and decided the same systematic approach would work. But maybe what he needed was less of his careful plan and more blind enthusiasm.
Cary said, “You know, if you’re really into this woman, you need to forget about her moving away. Don’t think about it and just go for it.”
“And resign myself to getting my heart smashed when she leaves?”
“Will it be any less smashed if you don’t even try?” Cary leaned forward and looked into Jeremy’s face. “At this point you don’t have anything to lose. The worst that could happen is she moves away. And right now that’s what she’s planning anyway.”
Jeremy considered it. The idea had merit.
Cary continued. “Shedoeslike it here, but like I said, she doesn’t have any roots. There’s nothing holding her in Metlin.”
“I know. That’s the problem.”
“So… maybe try giving her a reason to stay.” Cary shrugged. “Like I said, you’ve got nothing to lose.”
Jeremy wrappeda towel around his waist as he left the upstairs bathroom and heard his grandfather shouting from below.
“Dinner’s ready!”
“I’ll be down in a minute, Pop.”
His grandfather never came upstairs anymore; he lived his life in the kitchen, the small front room, and the first-floor bedroom that overlooked the back garden. The upstairs bedrooms and bathroom were all Jeremy’s.
The only downside to this was that his pop spent a lot of time yelling up the stairs. Jeremy would have known dinner was ready from the smell of tri-tip. He didn’t need his grandfather hollering at him.
Of course, he didn’t tell his grandfather that. Especially not when the man cooked dinner at least three times a week.
Jeremy pulled on a pair of jeans and a comfortably worn T-shirt. His hands were still sore from the climbing gym, and his back ached. His legs would hurt tomorrow, but the soreness was welcome. His body was waking up, stretching like the trees, getting ready for the summer.
He walked downstairs and found a sliced tri-tip on the kitchen table along with a pot of beans simmering on the stove.
Once a cowboy, always a cowboy.
“Want me to make a salad?”
“Not for me.” Pop stood at the stove and spooned pinquito beans over his steak.
Jeremy threw a steamer pack of vegetables in the microwave. “You know, fiber is a good thing.”
“That’s what the beans are for.”
“I’m glad I don’t have to share a room with you, old man.”
Pop chuckled as he sat at the table. “I’ll eat your carrots or whatever you’re making. Just don’t expect me to make them.”
“Fair enough.” He leaned over and kissed the top of his pop’s head. “Thanks for dinner, Pop.”
“How’s Cary?”
“Good. His oranges are all in.”
“Tangerines?”
“Just starting.”
Pop grunted. “Water’s looking good this year.”
