"Let's put your stuff inside and get the creature situated, then we'll walk over to Gram's and say hello."
"Do not call her 'creature.' You should address her as Princess Pixie or she will get very mad," I tease, peering at her in the small carrier. She doesn't look too happy about all this activity disturbing her usual daily naps.
He regards me with one of his smirks while he grabs some of my things from the back of the truck. "I will never refer to her as Princess anything. I kinda like the idea of you calling me Lord and Master, though."
Laughing, I follow him into the guesthouse and set up the litter box, food, water, scratch tree, and bed for the cat while he brings in the rest of my bags. I didn't bring much—just what I thought I would need for about a week as he suggested. I have some soap orders to fill, and I had to bring some of those supplies so I don't lose any customers. Right now, most of my customers are by word of mouth and referrals, so the last thing I want is for someone to get frustrated with a late order.
"She never goes outside," I advise while Princess Pixie timidly explores her new surroundings. "So please be very careful opening and closing the door. I don't want anything happening to her."
"No outside. Watch doors. Got it," he says. "Let's go to Gram's. I'm starving."
We follow a stone pathway outlined with colorful flowers, leading to the main house. On impulse, I slip my hand into his at about the halfway mark, hoping it doesn't invite another of his sexual innuendos, but he surprises me by glancing down at me, winking, and squeezing my hand affectionately.
The front door swings open just as we approach and his Gram comes out, all smiles. I remember her from the wedding because she hugged me so tightly and held my hand in both of hers while she talked to me. She's the kind of grandmother we all dream of—sweet, accepting, and adorable.
"There you are!" she exclaims. Talon leans down and gives her a long hug, my heart practically exploding at the sight of this tall, long-haired guy covered in tattoos embracing this tiny elderly woman.
When he lets her go, I move in and give her a hug too.
"Come in, come in! I have lunch all ready for you."
"Thank God," Talon says as we go inside. "I'm starving, Gram. Asia's not feeding me."
I open my mouth to protest, but she beats me to it. "Tally, don't you start giving her a hard time already or you'll scare her away."
"I don't scare easily, thankfully." I smile at the two of them.
"This one is the brat of the family," Gram says as she leads us to the kitchen table. "Have a seat and I'll get everything."
"Can I help?" I offer, not wanting his grandmother to be slaving over us.
"No!" she protests. "You just sit and let me."
Talon pulls out a chair for me. "She loves to wait on people," he says. "And I'm not a brat." He flops into the chair next to me and stretches his long legs under the wooden table.
"He's the youngest boy and was very spoiled," Gram explains as she returns from the refrigerator with a small platter of assorted sandwiches, and then she goes back to get a large, fresh, garden salad. "He told me you don't eat meat, so I hope this salad and veggie wraps are okay?"
"They’re perfect. You didn't have to do all this!" I exclaim, not used to this sort of family treatment. "Thank you so much for going to all this trouble."