Not the Rebound Guy by Abby Knox (best classic romance novels txt) 📕

“Go on inside,” he says, ignoring me. “I’ll bring in your bags.”

Let the record show I don’t like being told what to do. Right now, though, I’m tired, and all I want to do is hug my Grams.

Stepping over his bedroll, sleeping bag, and assorted yoga accessories, I nearly trip in my excitement to see my Grams. I can’t wait to hug her, fill her in on all the ugly details of my breakup, and then ask her about this extra polite weirdo who’s camping on her porch.

Chapter Two

Garrett

The Spanish Inquisition has begun. I feel as if I’m violating some boundaries by listening in. Still, as I’m currently stuck underneath Betty’s bathroom sink fixing a leak, I have no choice.

“Tell me how you came to the conclusion that having your neighbor who you barely know stay in your guest room was a good idea. You, a widow, who is eighty years old and vulnerable.”

“It’s so good to have you here, honey. You need a cookie?”

“Grams, I don’t want—-wow, those smell amazing…”

The cranberry-pecan-white chocolate chip cookies are incredible; I can attest to that personally. I plan on having some more as soon as I finish this task.

“I mean, you are far too trusting,” Eliza continues.

“I may be old to you, but eighty is the new sixty. And don’t talk with your mouth full, Eliza. Have a glass of milk.”

“How do you know he’s not a psycho?” Eliza asks, trying to keep her voice down and failing miserably. She has a point. I’m not a serial killer, of course, but I’m interested to hear where this conversation is going.

“Eliza Jane Little, Garrett has been my neighbor for five years. He’s in the bathroom right now fixing the faucet. Does that sound psycho to you?”

“He might not want to kill you, okay. But he could have another angle. He might want to weasel his way into your will, or, you know, other things that people do to take advantage of senior citizens.”

I extract myself from under the sink because I need to go downstairs to the basement to turn the water back on and test the faucet. But to do that, I have to go through the kitchen and interrupt this intriguing conversation. So instead, I pretend to keep working. I know. Shady.

“Oh, the will. Sure, he’s already in my will.”

“Grams, what?!”

“Of course he is! The man built a fence around my garden to keep the deer out. He runs me to the doctor, picks up my prescriptions, buys me groceries when I don’t even ask for it, takes me to the park to feed the ducks, keeps me supplied with honey and homemade soap. Not to mention maintains the house because I can’t climb ladders or get down on my knees anymore. Why would I not make him my power of attorney?”

I wince. That part sounds bad. I didn’t think it was necessary, but when Betty asked me to make medical decisions for her should she become incapacitated, how could I say no? I’m also her emergency contact. Also, she asked me to set her up with one of those oversized pay-as-you-go mobile phones, but she has no idea I’m the one adding the minutes to it.

“Oh my god, what?!”

Maybe Eliza is right to be concerned. Maybe I let myself get too involved in looking after Betty.

“Young lady, take a breath and picture this scenario: one day I’m working outside in the garden, and I suffer from heat exhaustion. I pass out, or I start talking crazy. Who’s going to admit me to the emergency room if you are in New York and your mother is at work?”

“Mom works an hour away from here, and she’s a doctor. She should—“

“Yes, honey. She should. But she won’t because why would she suddenly be available in the bad times when she’s never available for the good times?”

Ouch. Betty hasn’t said much to me about her daughter, except to say she can be difficult. Betty talks endlessly about Eliza, and I can see why. I have seen already that Eliza cares deeply for her grandmother, and they’re like two peas in a pod. Opposite personality peas, but an adorable gang of two, nonetheless.

Yes, I said adorable. Half of that is a given: everyone in Piper’s Grove adores the former school principal Betty. The other half of that pod I just met, and I already know I like her. She might be a little too fast-paced for a town that gets its news off the local diner’s placemats. But I liked her from the first time I saw her photograph magnetized to Betty’s fridge door. Four years ago. Betty’s not resentful, but she’s really been hoping for a visit from Eliza. And, so have I.

Better get going and test out this faucet.

“Still. It’s weird that he’s in charge of so much of your life.”

“You act like he’s the boss of me. Not even your grandfather was the boss of me.”

Eliza snorts. “That’s the truth. Well, just know that I’m on the lookout for red flags while I’m here. And I’ll be googling him. Maybe even paying for a background check.”

I hear the clink of china as Grams sets down her cup of tea. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. I woulda smelled the bodies by now.”

My hand covers my mouth, so I don’t laugh out loud and give myself away from my position in the hallway.

“Grams! Come on.”

Eliza’s protectiveness of her grandmother is admirable. It tells me she’s a good person who looks after her elders. I was raised to do the same. That’s one thing we have in common: making sure Grams is safe and unbothered.

“Honestly, Eliza. The man’s house just burned down, and he has nowhere to go.”

“The porch is hardly appropriate. It’s not even screened.”

Betty chortles. “He’s outdoorsy, and he loves it.”

“So he said.”

All of that is only part of the story. I do love the outdoors. And it’s true, I’m too tall for that full-size guest bed.