Raid - By Kristen Ashley Page 0,45
Grams was smart.
Therefore, I didn’t like this. Not one bit.
Still, I started to explain, “Grams, we’ve only been out on a couple of dates, but he’s really a good guy. A gentleman. And—”
“Dangerous. In every line of his body, hidden deep in his eyes. Missed it then, but he hadn’t had you then. I see it now and I see you got bit by his bug. I’m tellin’ you, Hanna, you be careful. You go forward cautious. Hard to guard your heart from a man like that who’ll do nothing and everything to win it in a way you’ll want him to own it forever. But mind this, child. Raiden Miller doesn’t find a way to beat back the danger lurking within, he’ll go down and he’ll take you down right along with him.”
She held my eyes, hers bright and keen, and I realized my chest was rising and falling fast. I took a sip of coffee and sat back, trying to force myself to relax.
I was also thinking about the air in his hunting lodge that morning, the look on his face when I said I wanted to give his Dad a boot to the groin.
There was something about that that moved me, scared me, spoke to me. I just didn’t know what it was saying.
“You find a way to have fun, you enjoy him, chère, and I’ll enjoy him when I’m with you two. But don’t forget what I said,” she continued, taking me out of my thoughts.
“Okay, Grams,” I told the tablecloth.
“Love you,” she told me and my eyes moved to her. “Said what I said and I’ll end it with this. If you’re the kind of woman who can withstand the blaze of hellfire he’s got burning inside, he battles that and wins, you will know nothing for the rest of your life, no taste, no experience, not even the birth of your children that will be sweeter than the love he’ll have for you.”
Oh my God.
She was totally freaking me out!
“We’ve only been on two dates,” I whispered.
“I see that. And I see he’s lost in you so completely it’s a wonder he knows his own name.”
I was back to semi-panting.
“He’s headed this way, precious. Take a deep breath,” she ordered, and my eyes went over her head to see added proof to what I’d had repeatedly had all my life. That Grams not only had excellent hearing, but eyes in the back of her head.
Raiden was headed our way, but he’d been stopped by Mrs. Bartholomew and her family. He was standing at their table, talking.
I deep breathed then took another sip of coffee, trying to force back Grams’s dire words, fit them someplace in my brain where I could go over them later (preferably with KC). I achieved this feat and had it together when Raiden slid back into his chair beside mine.
He also slid his arm along the back of my seat as he asked, “More coffee or the check?”
“Naptime for biddies, son, so the check. And I’m old, I’m a grandmother, so that means I pay and I don’t care how much of a man you are. When you’re old and a grandfather you’ll know what I mean and you’ll be glad you let me do it.”
He pulled me into his side and grinned at Grams.
I felt how great we seemed to fit together and frowned at Grams because I loved that feeling and she’d made me terrified of it.
She ignored my frown, lifted her hand and called, “Darla! Child, bring us the check, would you?”
Darla, our waitress, like she did every Sunday when Grams called for the check, scurried to do the matriarch of Willow’s bidding.
* * * * *
An hour and fifteen minutes later…
“You wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”
We’d just dropped off Grams. After a glass of sweet tea (well, Raiden and Grams had one, I had diet root beer), Raiden was taking me home.
I turned to look at him and asked, “Sorry?”
“You’ve been weird since the Pancake House.”
“I’m tired,” I replied.
Not exactly a lie, just not the whole truth.
“I get you home, you rest. I gotta go out and do something and when I get back I’ll bring a pizza. But after pizza, babe, you gotta have energy.”
I felt my nether regions quiver as I looked to the windshield.
I forced down that feeling and asked, “Does this something you have to do have to do with your crew and drug dealers?”
“No, it has to do with