It's Definitely Not You - Abby Brooks Page 0,9

living room. I reveled in the scowl on Penny Dreadful’s face as she pretended not to notice me.

Damn it. Focus man! Grabbing the hammer, I zeroed in on the project in front of me.

Kennedy wrinkled her nose as her jaws imitated tectonic plates, then audibly swallowed. “These are your best ones yet, Nan.”

Without taking my eyes off the door, I covered my mouth and coughed something that sounded strangely like, “Suck up.”

Maxine met my eyes and dropped me a wink as she patted her granddaughter’s hand. “Why, thank you, dear.”

Kennedy ignored me and crunched off another bite. “I know you hate it when I say this,” she said around a mouthful of gravel, “but are you even sure this house is worth fixing up?”

Hello?

Record fucking scratch, right there.

After less than an hour with Maxine, I knew the place was imprinted on her soul.

Me.

An internet killer with a heart of stone.

I scoffed, earning a scathing glance from Penny Dreadful. She popped the rest of the cookie into her mouth and went to work grinding it into submission. “I mean, think of all the time and energy you would save if you moved into an apartment. Or a retirement village.”

Maxine’s brow twitched. She held eye contact with Kennedy long enough to make her granddaughter visibly nervous, then rolled her hand. “Go on. You were talking about moving me three steps closer to the morgue?”

Penny Dreadful ran a hand into her hair and I did everything I could to ignore the urge to walk over there and do the same. I’d never paid so much attention to a woman’s tresses before, but there was something about the color that fascinated me.

“A retirement village is not three steps closer to the morgue. But you don’t have to move into one of those. What about an apartment? I love mine.”

Maxine glanced my way and I pretended to be lost in my work. No one wanted a nosey handyman obsessed with their granddaughter’s hair. They were almost as bad as nosey neighbors who sexually violated their hoses.

“I’m not interested in paying for an apartment, Kennedy.”

There you go! Let her have it! Stand up for yourself!

“I could pay for it.”

“I’m not interested in your charity, either.”

“I just can’t stand the thought of you staying here. With shady individuals.” Kennedy turned a sly smile my way. “You might get hurt.”

I wasn’t sure if she was threatening me or insinuating I had malicious intent toward her grandmother, but my jaw throbbed as if to say, “Too late.”

I leaned against the door and met her eyes, such a light blue they seemed silver from a distance. “That's why Maxine hired me.”

Kennedy’s eyebrows launched into orbit. “Oh, you're on a first name basis now?”

“I think I earned it after being attacked by her overly aggressive granddaughter.”

“The man has a point.” Maxine held out the plate of baked goods. “Cookie?”

I swallowed a smirk as Kennedy dutifully took one. “I'll take care of your grandma.”

The cookie paused on its way to violently red lips. “If by ‘taking care of her’ you mean swindling her so you have a place to stay, then yeah. I totally feel better.”

“At least I’m not talking her into selling the house she raised her family in just when she found someone willing to fix it up.”

Kennedy scoffed and turned to Maxine who flared her hands. “The man continues to have a point.”

The cookie lowered to a pair of slender legs crossed primly at the ankles. “Whose team are you on, here?”

Maxine threw an arm over the back of the sofa. “Team Me. I love my house and don’t want to move.”

The conversation moved on and I entertained myself by hammering loudly every time Her Highness, Kennedy Reagan Monroe tried to make a point. Her glare burning holes in my temple felt like victory.

I couldn’t help myself. I gave her my full attention, gently cocking my head in good-natured confusion. “I’m sorry. Is there a problem?”

“Nothing a little patience won’t solve.” Her smile was sickly sweet and her eyes shot lasers. “I’m sure with enough time you’ll prove who you really are. Problem. Solved.”

“That’s enough, you two.” Maxine’s eyes went wide. “What are you? Six-years-old? Bickering isn’t going to change anything. Joe is still moving into the guesthouse and Kennedy is still my favorite granddaughter.”

“Into the guesthouse?” Kennedy squeaked. “Nan…no!”

I tried to tune out the arguments she presented. Hearing an alphabetized list of why Penny Dreadful thought I was skeezy didn’t rate high on my action items for the