Hate to Date You (Dating #4) - Monica Murphy Page 0,27
night and filthy the next. Someone to grow old with. I always held the belief that something like that doesn’t really exist. Especially now, with dating apps and our overall short attention spans.
I can barely score a date anymore, let alone find someone with lifelong potential.
“Is your Carter a good real estate agent?” Nonna asks as she goes to the sink and fills up the teapot that was sitting in the dish drain.
“I don’t know. I think so. Caroline would always brag about his success when he was living in L.A.,” I say.
“Oh dear.” The water shuts off and Nonna walks over to the stove, turning on a burner and setting the teapot on it. “He lived in Los Angeles. Is he one of those fancy types who only drinks green smoothies and practices imminent fasting?”
How does she know this stuff? “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him drink a green smoothie, and he’s never mentioned that he fasts.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “And how old is he?”
“A few years older than me. Thirty. Thirty-one.” I shrug. “And by the way, he’s not my Carter.”
“That’s too bad.” Nonna lifts her chin, the disappointment on her face obvious. “I like him.”
“You barely know him.”
“I trust my instincts. I’m eighty-five years old—I believe I’ve honed them just right. He’s a good man.” Nonna rests her hands on her hips. “You should invite him to Sunday dinner.”
“No. No way.” I shake my head. Bringing Carter to our weekly family dinner would be disastrous. Mom would get high hopes and believe we’re on our way to becoming engaged. My brothers, while they do know Carter, would turn into intimidating beasts who are only watching out for their sister to the point of being threatening. And my father would interrogate him endlessly, determined to catch him in a lie.
Nope. Not going to happen.
“He seems lonely. I’m sure he would love to spend time with our family,” Nonna says.
“How does he seem lonely?”
“I can tell he is. Again, my instincts. Listen to me. I am your elder, I know what I’m talking about.”
She always pulls that, I’m your elder stuff, and most of the time, it works.
Today, I’m not falling for it.
Instead, I leave the kitchen and go in search of Carter. As I walk through the house, I try to view my grandparents’ house as if this was the first time I was visiting, and I wonder what he thinks.
It’s beautiful, with the giant windows and all the natural light spilling in, but it’s seen better days. The kitchen and bathrooms definitely need to be remodeled, and as I walk up the rickety staircase, I wonder if the stairs would have to be completely torn out and redone.
Probably. And that all costs money—money my nonna might not want to spend. As I’ve mentioned before, my father is stingy and he learned from two masters: his parents.
I find Carter in my grandmother’s bedroom—actually he’s in the bathroom, standing with his head bent so he can look out the window that overlooks the backyard. The ocean shimmers in the distance, the sun shining upon the water and making it sparkly. It’s truly a breathtaking view, and I’d guess Nonna doesn’t even really see it anymore.
We take advantage of what’s right there in front of us, day in and day out. It’s hard to take a step back and really appreciate what surrounds you, and what you have.
“Hey,” I call, letting Carter know I’m in the room. I can’t help but smile a little. It’s so amusing, how tall he is. So tall, he has to hunker down to actually look out the window. “What do you think of her place?” I ask, stopping just outside of the bathroom.
“It has a lot of potential.” He turns to face me. “Definitely needs some work, though.”
“It’s old. Most everything is structurally original.”
“Yeah. The kitchen and bathrooms definitely need upgrading. That fireplace is amazing, and so is the yard.” He runs his fingers along the windowsill, his head turning toward the ocean view once more. “You can’t beat the location.”
“I know. It’s beautiful here. And the view, of course.” We both stare out the window for a moment, and I feel weirdly at peace with Carter. Like our hormones have quieted down a little. Oh, there’s still some chemistry going on between us, but it doesn’t feel so heightened in this moment. It’s rather…mellow, which is surprising.
“Is she serious about selling?” When I shrug, Carter exits the bathroom so he’s standing