Page 15 of One More Kiss

Steve

“Did you have a good time?”Nash asked Aya when she returned from the Grace’s ranch. He’d met her at the back door, barely letting it swing shut.

Like Aya, Nash had grown up in a mansion that dripped wealth, but he’d bought himself a rambling ranch with a relatively modest four bedrooms. Granted, it had a killer view of the lake and multiple fenced acres, but my boy wasn’t just a famous musician, he was a billionaire, the sole heir to the Syad fortune in addition to his own millions. That’s how we’d reconnected; Mr. Syad hired me to protect his grandson. No doubt he was well aware of my relationship with Carolina as well as mine to Nash—he’d been a crafty old goat. But then, you’d have to be to make the kind of money most people couldn’t even dream of.

Even more surprising, he and Aya had turned the house into a cozy, loving home. It was comfortable and without any of the pretentiousness I’d hated about Nash’s childhood house.

Nash’s kitchen was spacious and well-designed, my favorite room. I busied myself over by the sink, hulling some strawberries for the shortcake I’d planned for dinner. Levi was very into smashing biscuits and chewing berries with his seven pearly white teeth.

“Oh, yes. You know I love spending time with my ladies.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed her husband, who immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her closer so that he could kiss her more deeply.

I turned away, embarrassed by their easy affection. The kiss lasted a long time—long enough for me to finish cutting up the strawberries. Next, I moved on to chopping potatoes. This dish required them to be cut into matchsticks so that each edge was browned, creating a nice crunch around the fluffy, soft center.

Aya strolled over and pecked my cheek. I patted her shoulder, a bit awkward as always, but at least I no longer grunted, blushed, and ran away.

“Any craziness I should know about?” Nash asked. He poured Aya a cup of chai. She’d taken to it after Levi’s birth, drinking it throughout the day.

She settled at the bar, her eyes sparkling when she glanced at me, as if she knew I wanted her to give up the caffeine. She took a long sip and sighed, her lips curving up as mine curled down.

“Mmm. Not in the way you think.”

Nash settled onto the barstool next to her and leaned his forearms onto the white granite of the raised bar. “I don’t know. When you, Kate, and Jenna get together, there’s always some level of crazy—”

“In a good way,” Aya finished. “And we stayed at the Big House so no hijinks occurred that your PR teams are going to sweat over.”

“Then, what was so pressing?” Nash asked. “I thought Jenna was having a donut emergency or something.”

Aya chuckled. “We drank tea and ate oatmeal raisin cookies. And I brought you both home a tin full.”

Nash rubbed his hands together, glee shimmering in his eyes. So much better than the dark storms that used to build there.

“…set Mama Grace up on some dates.”

My knife stopped rocking. I turned, wanting to read Aya’s expression. Maybe I’d misheard…

“She wasn’t keen on the idea, but we realized she’s lonely. That’s why Jenna called us together.”

“And you three decided she needed to meet someone?” Nash asked, amused.

Aya’s nod was decisive. “She’s been alone for a long time and deserves someone in her life who cares about her. I mean, her dead husband was a real piece of work. Even Kate agrees he was terrible to her mother.”

Nash leaned back against the counter, his fist against his temple. He looked so relaxed—how could anyone be relaxed right now? Jasmine dating…that was a disaster.

Aya sipped her tea before setting it on the bar next to Nash’s arm and snuggling closer to him.

“I thought maybe we could introduce her to Malcolm Grant,” Aya said.

“That jackass?” I scoffed.

Aya turned toward me, eyes wide. “What’s wrong with Malcolm? He’s successful and kind.”

“And has never done a day of actual labor in his life.” I lifted the knife and redoubled my efforts on the potatoes, chopping with more force than needed.

“I like Malcolm,” Nash said, eying me. Something flicked through his gaze. I turned away, busying myself with tossing the potatoes in the ice bath so they didn’t brown.

“Doesn’t mean he knows how to put in a full day of physical labor,” I snapped.

“Who cares?” Nash asked. He frowned. “It’s not like he’s going to be cutting down trees for her. Why do you care who Mama Grace sees, anyway? You two barely speak to each other. Well, except for during Christmas Eve dinner. Besides that, I didn’t think you’d interacted much.”

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