Page 137 of Mr. Flirt

My eyes widened as Izzy stifled a laugh.

“A man?” My brows rose. “You found a man?”

In a town this small, it wasn’t easy to do.

She wiggled her white brows and nodded. “How do you think I got my shutters painted?”

Izzy’s hands flew to her mouth. “Grandma.”

“I second that,” I teased, startled to see a vivid sparkle in her gaze.

Izzy grinned and patted my back. “And you thought we’d help Grandma through her own grief. I think she helped herself.”

Grandma Millie nodded. “Just because I can’t remember where I put my keys half the time doesn’t mean I can’t remember where a man’s—”

I laughed, cutting her off. “Okay, then. Your bedroom it is.”

“Anyway, Grace.” She smiled.” You and Izzy can have the run of the place. As I said, I rarely spend that much time here now. Oh, and I got your old bicycle all tuned up. New tires, chains, whatever it was that Steve at the bike shop said it needed. I thought Izzy or you might like to be able to take it out to the lake like you used to.”

My grandma’s thoughtfulness always amazed me, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on her kindness when I just found out my grandma had already found a man.

I fully understood that curiosity killed the cat, but I needed answers.

Grandma Millie poured us all a glass of her famous lavender lemonade.

“Thank you for the bicycle. But who’s the lucky man?” I asked, taking a sip.

The recipe was deliciously sweet enough to cut through the dampness of the day but tart enough to taste refreshing. Izzy closed her eyes as she drank it, and my heart started to settle.

Grandma Millie looked mischievous. “Jackson Barry Locke.”

I almost spat out the lemonade and found myself choking on her words.

Izzy glanced at me. “You okay, Mom?”

I nodded, dabbing my eyes with my sleeve. “Jackson Locke is my age.”

I was certain this bypassed all cougar references and flew to new, unchartered territory.

“Psh.” Grandma Millie laughed. “NotyourJackson Locke. This is his great-uncle.”

Izzy glanced at me. “YourJackson Locke?”

My hands fluttered in the air. “I dated Jackson before your dad.”

I’d also met his great-uncle eons ago.

Izzy looked impressed. “The guy who stood you up?”

I was surprised I’d ever mentioned that part to Izzy.

Grandma Millie snickered, and I knew to be afraid of anything going on in her mind.

My daughter smirked. “So, the Locke men have a thing for the Bailey women.”

“We are Henry women,” I corrected.

“Speaking of Locke men, the other Jackson is back in town.” My grandma looked at me over her tipped glass.

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