Page 34 of Heart Me Up
“It was adorable.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. That got him a mock-scowl with a bonus eye roll, but we were both smiling as I put the car in gear. Maybe we weren’t ready to put a label on things, but we seemed to both be on the same page as far as where we were headed.
To Henry’s. For now.
Chapter15
Craig
We’d pulledinto the restaurant’s parking lot when Foster’s phone rang. He groaned. “Nooo, please don’t be work,” he begged as he pulled his phone out of the cup holder. “Oh, whew, it’s only Aunt Charlotte.” He looked over at me. “She’s the one who set me up on the blind date. Do you mind if I get this?”
“Not at all.” He answered the call, and a woman’s voice, presumably Aunt Charlotte’s, filled the car.
“Foster, can you be a dear and come by the house tonight?”
Foster frowned. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“No, well, I mean, not with me. The dishwasher though, there’s water everywhere and I don’t know how to turn it off.” Foster slumped in defeat, banging his head back against the headrest.
I smiled and patted his arm. “It’s okay. Let’s go.”
“Who’s that? Foster, is someone with you? Am I interrupting—ooooh, is it your puppy man?”
I clapped my hand over my mouth to silence the burst of laughter that tried to erupt. Foster covered his face.
“Aunt Charlotte, I’m on a date. His name is Craig. He’s coming with me to your house, and I will be glad to check out your dishwasher as long as you do not mention puppy play or anything similar while we are there. Okay?”
Huh. Stern Foster was pretty hot.
“Fine. You don’t have to be so weird about it. Have you eaten? I can make something while you’re working on the dishwasher.” Foster had dropped his hands, but now he was staring at the ceiling of the car. He slid his eyes over to me. I shrugged.
“Just accept it,” I whispered. “We’ll never be able to have a normal date.”
Foster gave an enormous sigh. “That sounds nice, Aunt Charlotte, thanks.”
* * *
Foster’s Great Aunt Charlotte was a hoot. She was a little shorter than me, probably about eighty years old but time wasn’t slowing her down any. She had short gray hair and was rocking some skinny jeans and what might have been a man’s button-up dress shirt with a leather belt loosely draped around her hips. I immediately felt underdressed.
Charlotte greeted me politely, correcting me when I tried to call herma’am.Foster expertly shut off the water to the house. Then, after quickly mopping up the worst of what had run out onto the floor, he pulled the dishwasher out of its cubby beneath the kitchen counter and examined everything. Forget puppy play, I now had a competence kink.
Charlotte interrupted my staring at her grandnephew—and wasn’t that a boner-killing phrase—to suggest we go sit on the back deck. Foster gave her a glance I couldn’t interpret but didn’t say anything, so I agreed. She handed me a glass of iced tea and led the way outside.
“Foster made this for me on his weekends a few years ago,” she said with a fond smile. “The plants are all mine, though I do admit to hiring someone to mow the grass.”
I verbally admired the lush shrubberies and potted plants strategically placed around the deck.
“Have a seat,” she offered, stretching out her arm toward a seating area like a game show hostess.
My hindbrain told me it was a bad idea, but I couldn’t come up with a plausible excuse to go back inside. “Okay, thanks.” Brilliant.
“Don’t worry, dear. Foster warned me not to bring up the puppy play stuff.” I winced. “But tell me about yourself.”
So I did. I told her about growing up in the area, going to the University of Texas, and deciding to open a pet resort with Greg. But that wasn’t what she wanted to know.
“Yes, yes. That’s all very interesting. But what’s wrong with you, still single at your age?”
I goggled at her. Did she just…? “It’s none of your business,” I snapped.
To my surprise, she laughed. “Oh, good, the puppy’s got teeth.” She patted my arm. “Foster needs a feisty one. Let’s go see how he’s coming along with the dishwasher, hmm?” She stood up and went inside.
