Page 31 of Cowboy of Convenience
Figuring out a little more of what made Gram-Gram tick soothed his irritation at missing something so significant about Evelyn. He wanted to believe it was a simple case of being too far removed from the situation, but that wasn’t it. He’d always been able to dissect other people based on how they acted and what they said, using the knowledge to tease out honesty and, frequently, confessions. It was why he was the one sent to every domestic call that came in while he was on the clock.
But he never put the pieces of Evelyn’s behavior together. Didn’t see her inability to parallel park or her preference for the older generation as anything significant. But maybe they were. Maybe she stuck with Muriel and Gertrude and the rest of the gang because they were also a little behind on the technology and recent innovations her own peers had mastered.
He tipped his head, looking down at where Evelyn's face was pressed against his chest, her dark hair scattered across the skin of her cheek as she soundly slept. Was it possible she came here practically as incapable as Gram-Gram was and still managed to rent a house, buy a car, and start a business all on her own?
And was it possible he'd missed every one of the signs?
He always found a level of pride in his abilities as a cop. Being able to read the room and diffuse a situation based on what he saw.
But what if he wasn't as fucking good at it as he thought he was?
"Is there a place I could call to bring me coffee?"
Gram-Gram's interruption was almost welcome this time, because at least he was able to see it coming, so he wasn’t completely inept.
"How are you gonna order coffee if you don't know what you like?" He wasn't trying to piss her off. Technically. But if she felt comfortable annoying the shit out of him, then he was going to feel comfortable annoying the shit out of her.
"I'll just order one of everything." She'd obviously thought it through and came up with the most reasonable solution she could find. If you could call ordering every coffee item from a menu reasonable.
He wouldn't.
Grady climbed out of bed for the third, and final, time, checking his phone to find it was actually almost five. Close enough. "Come on." He yanked on a shirt. "I'll take you into town to get some fucking coffee."
* * *
"GOOD?" GRADY GLANCED across the cab of his pickup to where Gram-Gram sipped from her insulated cup.
"It's not what I usually drink, but it’s fine." Her answer was clipped, but the way she was sucking down the mocha told him Gram-Gram was a fan.
And thank God, because he almost lost his mind as she questioned the owner of blue moon coffee about every single item. Luckily, the woman was way more patient than he was, and didn't seem to mind Gram Gram's confusion over her own personal preferences. After fifteen full minutes, Gram-Gram had finally narrowed it down to the mocha or some sort of caramel and vanilla concoction. The shop owner easily talked her into the chocolate option before brewing it up and sending them on their way with two coffees and two chocolate croissants.
"I assume you purchased a ring for my granddaughter." Gram-Gram took another sip from her cup, but if she was making an attempt to appear casual, it wasn't working.
He should have expected a line of questioning, especially once she got a little caffeine in her. "I did. It's at the jewelers." He fished around his brain for the word Evelyn used when rattling off the excuse for why there was no rock currently on her finger. "They're making a wrap." It sounded right when he said it. Still didn't make a lick of sense, but at least it had a familiar ring.
"Hmph." Gram-Gram didn’t hide her displeasure. Or maybe it was judgment. Didn't matter.
Grady gripped the wheel, trying to keep his cool. "Something wrong?"
Gram-Gram peered into the open end of the sleeve containing her croissant. "I would've expected you to have that handled before you proposed."
"Why’s that?" He was genuinely interested to see what she had to say. Not only because it might give him some insight into what a wrap was, but because he was pretty confident Gram-Gram had some fucked-up ideas about how marriage should be.
Gram-Gram lifted her brows, gaze heavy as it came his way. "Would you start a business without ensuring everything you needed was in place?"
Her answer was what he expected, which was good. It meant he wasn't entirely blind. But it was still fucked up.
"I suppose not, but I don't reckon I look at marriage and a business as being the same thing."
"That's the problem with young people these days. They go into a marriage thinking love will be enough, and it's simply not true." Gram-Gram sat stiffly in the seat next to him. "Marriage is a partnership. It’s destined to fail if the people involved don't agree on how it will be run." Her eyes narrowed, looking him over. "Or, if they enter into it unprepared."
"Sounds like you had a happy marriage." He somehow managed to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.
"I had asuccessfulmarriage." There was an edge to the qualifying part of her statement.
Gram-Gram, unsurprisingly, found a successful marriage to be more desirable than a happy one. It made it slightly more understandable that she would consider Evelyn and Sasha a good pair. Especially if that decision was based on Evelyn the way he now suspected she was before coming to Moss Creek.
It was still wrong as hell.
