Page 30 of Cowboy of Convenience
It was getting harder and harder to keep his shit together with this woman. “If you don’t know then how am I supposed to know?” He forced in a breath, scrubbing one hand over his burning eyes. “Whodoesknow how you take your coffee?”
“Bernard.” There was something off in her tone. Something he couldn’t quite read.
And that was unusual.
Grady sat up, trying to get a better look at the woman still standing at the bedroom door. “Then ask him.”
A flicker of emotion seemed to pinch Gram-Gram’s shadowed face. “I can’t. He’s on his way back to New York.”
That was an unfortunate development. “Then I guess you’ll have to figure it out.”
“I’ll just wait.” Gram-Gram finally left, abandoning both him and her quest to obtain whatever mysterious concoction she drank in the mornings.
Fucking finally.
Grady settled back onto the mattress, barely managing to relax before Evelyn was wiggling his way again, pressing nearly every inch of her body into the side of his and releasing a soft sigh.
Any hope he had of falling back into peaceful slumber went out the window the second her skin hit his. It was a good thing Gram-Gram was gone. If she was shocked by his half-mast morning salute, she’d be absolutely scandalized by the complete hard-on he was currently sporting.
It was almost as bad as the one he’d struggled to ignore the night before. For a second there it seemed like Evelyn might want a little more out of their arrangement, and he’d been more than ready to accommodate her demands. But the second she started to waver, that option was off the table. If he touched her, it would only be because she wanted it.
Without question. Without hesitation.
“I don’t know how to turn on the television.”
“Christ.” Grady tossed back the covers for the second time before detangling himself from Evelyn yet again. “You’re killing me, Gram-Gram.” He snagged his jeans from the dresser and tugged them on, stuffing his still fully hard dick in before zipping them up.
He stalked into the living room, grabbed the remote from the coffee table and switched on the television balanced on the antique stand across the room. “What do you want to watch?”
Gram-Gram held one hand out. “Just show me how to change the channel and I’ll do it myself.”
Grady ignored her, pulling up the guide. “I’d really like to get some fucking sleep before I have to go to work, so just tell me what you want to watch.”
How could anyone be this clueless? Being rich enough to have a butler—or whatever the fuck she called Bernard—was one thing, but allowing yourself to be helpless without him was another.
He paused, glancing back toward the bedroom, hit hard by a possibility he hadn’t considered before.
Was this how Evelyn was when she first moved to Moss Creek? Did she not know how to make coffee or turn on a television? Was she just as incapable of existing in the real world as Gram-Gram was?
“Give me that.” Gram-Gram snatched away the remote, looking down her nose at him. “You can go back to bed. I promise not to bother you again.”
Somehow he didn’t believe her.
“Fine.” He wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Goodnight.”
Gram-Gram focused on the television, slowly scrolling through the catalog of programming displayed on the screen. “It’s technically morning, but I suppose I knew what you meant.”
This fucking woman. She didn’t miss any opportunity to dig at him, even after he’d dragged his ass out of bed to help her.
Twice.
Grady peeled off his jeans, tossing them onto the dresser before falling back onto the mattress. A second later, the sound of women bickering carried in from the living room.
Was Gram-Gram watching trash TV? It sure as hell sounded like it.
He grinned in spite of the early hour and the loss of sleep he’d never manage to reclaim. Evelyn’s grandmother might be worried about how the world saw her, but it seemed like she had at least one shamefully guilty pleasure.
And where there was one, there were probably more.
