Page 47 of Fortune and Glory (Stephanie Plum 27)
ave Rex a pretzel, and I gave Potts a bottle of water. I turned the television on and gave him the remote.
“I have work to do in my bedroom,” I said. “Don’t move off the couch. If you decide to go home, leave me a note.”
“I’m not going home. I’m here forever.”
“You’re a nut.”
“I know,” Potts said. “I can’t help it.”
I closed my bedroom door and flopped onto my bed. I didn’t have work to do. I needed a nap before I tackled the Morelli-Gabriela connection.
Grandma called at 5:45 PM.
“Your mother made too much spaghetti,” she said. “Do you want to come to dinner?”
I cracked my door and looked out. Potts was still there.
“Is your mother expecting you to be home for dinner?” I asked him.
“No, I told her I was working the night shift.”
“Can I bring a friend?” I asked Grandma.
“You can bring an army. Your mother was hitting the hooch, and next thing, poof, we got two weeks’ worth of pasta.”
* * *
“This is getting serious,” Potts said from the backseat of the Buick. “You’re taking me to meet your parents. Do they know about us?”
I cut my eyes to the rearview mirror and glanced at him. “What’s to know?”
“That I protect you. That we’re life partners.”
“We aren’t life partners. I bailed you out of jail and now I can’t get rid of you.”
“Good thing, too. I already kept you from getting shot, and then I took a syringe in the thigh for you.”
This is why I don’t keep a loaded gun. I might have been tempted to shoot one of us.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Grandma was waiting at the door when I arrived with Potts.
“You remember George Potts,” I said to Grandma. “You met him at the Mole Hole.”
“I’m her bodyguard,” Potts said. “It’s my life’s work to protect her. And we might eventually be a couple.”
I kicked Potts in the shin.
“Ow!” he said. “Why did you do that? I have thin skin and my blood vessels are very close to the surface. I’m going to have a bruise. I might even get a hematoma.”
“It was an accident,” I said. “It was an involuntary action. And I didn’t kick you hard.”
“I’m very sensitive to pain because of my PTSD.”
“PTSD is serious,” Grandma said. “Where were you stationed?”
“Newark,” Potts said.
