Читать книгу Every Road to You - Phyllis Bourne - Страница 11

Chapter 3

Ethan’s sneakers pounded the pavement, the fresh air and afternoon sunshine a welcome change from the monotony of the treadmill.

Rescheduling his morning flight to Hawaii to one leaving that evening was already turning out to be a good decision. He’d made the move to ensure his grandmother was back to her old self but had decided to take advantage of having the morning off. So far, he’d already slept late, got a haircut and enjoyed the rare treat of reading the entire newspaper over coffee.

Swiping the sweat from his brow with his forearm, Ethan jogged in place, waiting for the traffic light to change. Now that he’d put three miles in, he’d kill the proverbial two birds by running the additional few miles to his grandmother’s house instead of driving over later.

He was eager to see if her talk with Tia had done any good.

A half hour later, Ethan paced the driveway of the house he’d grown up in with his grandparents, cooling down from his workout. He spied the curtain moving in the front window of the house next door, and not long afterward, Alice Fenton stepped out on her porch.

“Afternoon, Miss Al...”

The automatic greeting died on his lips as he took in her outfit. She’d obviously snatched a page from his grandmother’s new fashion playbook, he thought, taking in the denim cargo shorts, T-shirt and red high-top sneakers.

He shook his head at the sight. Tia Gray had a lot to answer for. Hopefully, she’d already made inroads and their breakfast visit had marked the return of his grandmother’s good sense.

“Carol’s not home.” Alice eased off the porch one step at a time, clinging to the railing.

“That’s fine. I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Ethan said, thinking she’d probably dashed off to the store. “I’ll just let myself in and wait.”

He scanned the colorful array of petunias, marigolds and geraniums in his grandmother’s flower bed for the fake rock. Locating it, he popped open the bottom panel and retrieved a spare key to the house.

He turned around to find Alice standing beside him.

“But Carol’s gone, dear,” she said.

“What do you mean, gone?” Ethan asked, a feeling of unease creeping over him. “Did she say where she was going?”

Alice shrugged. “I don’t remember exactly. She said something about a bucket. Or was it a list of buckets?”

Ethan tried to piece it together, but she wasn’t making sense. “Focus, Miss Alice. Exactly what did Grandma say?”

The older woman laid a finger over her lips and scrunched her already wrinkled face in concentration. Ethan waited with an outward calm he didn’t feel inside.

Alice brightened. “Now I remember.” She snapped her fingers. “Carol’s off to scratch some items off her bucket list.”

Bucket list? This was the first he’d heard of his grandma having anything more than a grocery list. Ethan frowned. He didn’t have to wonder where this inane idea had come from—none other than Tia Gray.

Once again, images of the woman’s dynamite legs came to mind.

He shoved them aside. Focus, he chided himself with the same directive he’d given Alice just moments ago.

“What else did my grandmother say?” Ethan asked. “Did she say anything about what time she’d be back tonight?”

“Oh, she’s not coming back tonight. She asked me to water her flowers for a couple of weeks because she and her boyfriend were taking off on an adventure.”

“Boyfriend!”

Alice flinched, and Ethan instantly regretted his tone. The bombshell his grandmother’s friend dropped had taken him by surprise. This was the first he’d heard of his grandmother seeing anyone. In the four years since his grandfather’s death, she hadn’t expressed an iota of interest in dating.

Ethan ran a hand over his freshly cut hair. “Sorry for yelling, Miss Alice. Does this boyfriend of hers have a name?”

“His name’s Glenn, and he’s what we ladies of a certain age would call a silver fox.” She nudged him in the ribs with a bony elbow. “It’s why I decided to spruce up my look like your grandma. I want to snag a hottie like him for myself. After all, I’m only a few years older than Carol.”

Alice looked down at her outfit and back at him, an expectant look plastered on her face. “So what do you think, dear? Do I look good enough to find me a Glenn?”

Ethan closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingertips to temper his frustration and ward off the beginnings of a headache.

“You look fine, Miss Alice.” He opened his eyes, exhaling the words. “Is there anything else you can tell me about this Glenn or where they might have gone? Do you know his last name or happen to remember the make or model of the car they left in?”

The older woman shook her head slowly. “Sorry, I don’t know his last name.”

Ethan began climbing the porch stairs with the key to the front door in hand. He needed to find a copy of this so-called bucket list. He also had to see if there were any clues about the mysterious Glenn. He thought of his grandmother’s recent behavior and hoped like hell he wasn’t some felon she’d met during her recent stint in lockup.

“Ethan, dear,” Alice called out. “They didn’t leave in a car. Your grandma was riding on the back of Glenn’s Harley.”

Ethan turned back to the older woman. He must have heard her wrong.

“As in m-motorcycle?” he sputtered

“Yep,” Alice confirmed. “A great, big one, too. My ears are still ringing from all the noise Glenn made revving up that baby before they left.”

Ethan plopped down on the top step and put his head in his hands. This just kept getting worse. He mentally kicked himself for not coming by the house earlier; instead, he’d relied on Tia to straighten out the mess she’d created. He should have known better.

Alice approached and placed a delicate hand on his arm. “There’s no reason for you to worry,” she said.

“Why’s that?” Ethan looked up at her, grasping for anything to alleviate his growing anxiety.

“They were both wearing helmets.”

* * *

Inside his grandmother’s house, Ethan forced himself to calm down. He had to stop reacting like a frantic grandson and approach this situation the way he did everything else, with the logical mind of an attorney.

Grabbing the cordless phone from the spotless kitchen countertop, he punched in his grandmother’s mobile number. Of course, he should have thought of doing that in the first place. He’d simply ask where she was and tell her to stay put until he could get there to bring her home.

Ethan drummed the fingertips of his free hand against the counter and stared at the kitchen’s cherry-emblazoned wallpaper, waiting for the line to connect.

“Come on, Grandma, pick up,” he muttered.

Then he heard it. A faint sound coming from the other room.

“Damn.” His free hand formed into a fist, and he slammed it against the countertop.

Ethan stalked out of the kitchen and through the dining room toward the sound; however, he knew what it was before he saw the mobile phone on his grandmother’s bedroom bureau. His own name and number flashed across the small screen. Next to it was a folded paper with his name written on it.

He snatched the note off the bureau and scanned his grandmother’s familiar scrawl.

His chat with Alice had been more informative.

Basically, his grandmother had gone away to cross items off her so-called bucket list, and she’d return when she was good and ready. No indication of exactly when that would be.

Nor had she written a single word about a boyfriend named Glenn.

Ethan went to the den and fired up the desktop computer he’d bought her for Christmas. Maybe her web-browsing history would net him a few details to her whereabouts or at least point him in the right direction.

He sat down at her chair and scanned the desktop as he waited for the computer to load. A few moments later, Ethan typed bucket list into the search function, and a document with the title opened up on the screen.

He blew out a relieved breath. At least something was easy.

His relief waned as he began to read the long list. He could attest to the fact she’d already done the pub crawl on Broadway and attended a wild party.

Scrolling down, his eyes widened.

Zip-lining.

Skydiving.

Was his grandmother out of her mind? She could just delete those. No way she was doing either activity. Not after the trauma of her health scare just a few short months ago. You’d think a retired nurse would know better.

Ride cross-country on a Harley.

Ethan frowned. She and this Glenn guy may get through a few Tennessee counties. However, there was no way he was going to risk his grandmother’s safety, her life, sitting idly by while she rode off on a bike with a stranger.

He thought he’d read the worst of it until he got to the last item on the list, and his stomach fell as if he’d been on that roller coaster his grandmother wanted to ride.

Get married in Las Vegas with Elvis officiating.

“Oh, hell, no!” Ethan’s voice echoed throughout the house.

Hawaii could wait. He was going to find his grandmother, and if he had to drag her kicking and screaming all the way back home, so be it.

And Ethan knew exactly who was going to help him.

* * *

Tia willed herself to get out of her office chair and head downstairs for the spa’s last yoga class of the day. It would be the perfect way to get centered before she tackled the stack of work on her desk—things she should have accomplished during business hours.

Unfortunately, her body refused to cooperate.

Instead, she toed off her pumps, eased back in the ultrasuede chair and propped her feet on the smooth surface of her glass desk.

Tia hadn’t intended to spend a good chunk of the day shoving her temperamental sister aboard a flight to New Mexico for the location shoot for next spring’s line. Then it had taken an hour on the phone soothing the ruffled feathers of an irate Rafael, the internationally renowned photographer and reality-show judge Lola had kept waiting.

Tia had also returned to her father’s office earlier in the day, trying once again to explain her position, only for it to end in a replay of their previous visit.

Now she was exhausted, both physically and mentally.

She shifted into a more comfortable position and closed her eyes. Her plan was to chill for another minute or two, then grab a mug of strong tea from the relaxation room and dig into the mountain of awaiting paperwork.

The spa would remain open for another couple of hours, but the rest of the office staff had cleared out promptly at five. Max had offered to stay late to help her catch up, but Tia had refused, knowing his five-year-old son and her godson had a T-ball game.

Exhaling, Tia dug deep for the motivation to move, but it eluded her.

“Ms. Gray.”

Tia jerked at the sound of her surname rumbling through the room on the deep, booming voice. She opened her eyes and looked toward the open door to find the frame filled by none other than Ethan Wright.

Judging by the firm set of his jaw, he was unhappy with her.

Again.

Dark brown eyes drilled into hers before his gaze strayed to her legs and lingered as if he found their current position offensive.

It wasn’t as if she’d invited him to her office, Tia thought. It was after business hours. They were her legs, atop her desk, and it was none of his business what she did with them.

Still, she swung them down and slid her feet back into her pumps. As she did, Tia stole a moment to appreciate him—solely on his eye-candy appeal.

Smooth, dark skin, dreamy brown eyes and a lean, fit body. Yum, she thought, fighting an urge to smack her lips. He’d eschewed yesterday’s suit and tie for a baseball cap, khakis and a black polo shirt, its short sleeves revealing strong, muscled arms. Nope. Her mind hadn’t exaggerated his attractiveness. Not at all.

“Ethan, I didn’t expect to see you again,” she said.

“I didn’t expect to have to return.”

Tia rose from her desk. She definitely needed that tea now. “Well, I was just headed downstairs for a cup of tea. Can I bring one for you?”

Tia wasn’t positive, but she thought she saw a lightning bolt split the storm clouds gathering above his head. The expression on his handsome face darkened to downright thunderous.

“I don’t want any tea,” he said, every word laced with barely contained fury. “You and I need to talk. Right now.”

Apparently, her mind hadn’t exaggerated his obnoxiousness either.

Tia crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s been a long day. I’m tired, and I have a lot of work to do,” she said. “I spoke with Carol this morning, and she seemed perfectly fine to me. In fact, the more I talked to her, the more I realized you’re the one who needs to sit down and have a conversation with her. If you’d just listen to what she has to say, I’m sure it would put your mind at ease.”

He took a step toward her, and she couldn’t help noticing his Yankees cap covered a fresh haircut, the sideburns giving it away. Underneath the brim, his brown eyes bored into hers with razor sharpness. “I can’t talk to my grandmother, Ms. Gray, and my mind definitely is not at ease, because she’s gone.”

For a moment, his declaration made Tia nervous. Then she remembered how he’d gotten her all wound up over the jail thing, which turned out not to be a big deal at all.

“She’s probably just out for the evening,” Tia said, careful not to mention Glenn. Something told her Carol hadn’t mentioned reuniting with an old boyfriend to her grandson.

Tia could also see how Ethan’s overprotectiveness could drive his grandmother nuts. He was starting to prick her nerves, too.

“Not out for the evening. Gone,” Ethan reiterated. “She took off on the back of some old geezer’s Harley to pursue some ludicrous list.”

“She what?” Tia’s jaw dropped before the corners of her mouth tilted upward. She covered her lips with her fingertips to smother her first laugh of the day. “Well, good for Carol.”

The man facing her made a sound low in his throat that sounded like a growl.

“There’s nothing good or remotely funny about this situation,” he said. “Exactly what did you say to my grandmother this morning? Did you know she was planning to take off with some man?”

Tia sighed. She should have gone down for that cup of tea. Too bad the tranquil blend didn’t come in double shots like espresso. “She didn’t mention going on a trip, but Carol is a grown woman. She doesn’t have to check in with me.” Or you.

He reached into his pants pocket and retrieved a sheet of paper that looked as if it had been crumpled in his fist.

“What do you know about this?” He held it out to her.

Tia took the paper and smoothed it out against her flat stomach. It was a copy of the same list Carol had shown her this morning, only with red-ink notations and exclamation marks she assumed were added by Ethan.

“Carol’s bucket list,” she said.

“You don’t seem to be surprised by the items on it or the sheer lunacy of a woman her age pursuing them.”

“She’s an adult.” Tia shrugged and handed it back to him. “And it’s none of my business.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve seen this list before, haven’t you?”

“You should be talking to your grandmother.”

“You have,” he said, answering his own question. “And why do I also think this whole bucket-list garbage was your idea in the first place?”

Tia walked around her desk and plopped down in her chair. She looked up at Ethan, who was still glaring at her, nostrils flaring, waiting on an answer.

“So what if your grandmother is off having some real fun for a change instead of filling her time with garden clubs and baking brownies for fund-raisers?”

Bracing his arms on her desk, Ethan leaned forward. Close enough for Tia to pick up the notes of sandalwood in his aftershave when she inhaled. Crap attitude or not, the man smelled good.

“It was a life she was perfectly happy with until you came along, putting stupid ideas like this bucket list into her head.”

Tia rose from her chair and met his hard stare head-on. “You’re wrong. She wasn’t happy,” she said. “Carol was stuck in a boring existence and identity she didn’t know how to break out of, so if I indeed played a small part in helping her claim a more exciting life for herself, I’m thrilled.”

If it were possible for a human head to explode, Tia suspected Ethan’s was on the brink of it. Still, she was on a roll and pressed on.

“If you want my advice, I think you need to chill out and give her some much-needed space.”

“Un-freaking-believable.” Ethan then muttered something about fruit loops. He threw his hands in the air and began pacing a path in front of her desk. “After all the trouble you’ve caused, you’re still dishing out more of your awful advice. Lady, you need to stick to hairdos and mud packs.”

“M-my advice isn’t awful,” she sputtered. This time it was her own head in danger of spontaneously combusting.

He stopped midpace. “My seventy-four-year-old grandmother is planning to jump out of a plane. All because of you.”

Skydiving sounded a heck of a lot better than gluing Popsicle sticks on crafts day at the senior citizens’ center, she fought the urge to point out. It would only escalate an already tense conversation into an ugly game of tit for tat, which wouldn’t resolve anything.

Tia stood. Reaching across the desk, she placed her hand on his forearm. A pulse of awareness shot through her at the feel of his bare skin beneath her hand, its intensity increasing to a throb as her fingertips grazed the ropes of sinewy muscle.