Page 73 of Blame it on the Kiss
Bryce squeezed her arm. “She likes to know everyone at her table before she butters her bread, that’s all.” Truth. Mostly.
“So this isn’t anything significant?”
“No,” he lied.
“Oh. Okay.” Honor gave a confident nod of her head. “Let’s go meet her then. She sounds like my kind of grandma.”
“She’s everyone’s kind,” he said proudly, resuming their stride. “And there she is.” With a few more steps they reached her.
“Grandma, this is Honor Mitchell. Honor, my grandmother, Ruth Bishop.”
“Honor.” She took Honor’s hands in both of hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too.”
“Your gown is resplendent.” She held onto one of Honor’s hands and lifted it up and out to the side.
“Thank you. I bought it in a small boutique. The owner designs and makes dresses and this is one of them. Your dress is also stunning.”
His grandmother lowered their arms and gave a little wink. “We both like a little sparkle.”
The smile Honor gave his grandmother did a number on his insides. “We do.”
“And what is this?” Grandmother turned Honor’s wrist over and narrowed her eyes at the tattoo. “Faith. I like that. Does it have special meaning?”
Honor’s eyes flicked to his for a charged moment. “It does. It was my best friend’s middle name.”
“Was?”
“Grandma.”
“It’s okay,” Honor said. “She passed away almost a year ago.”
Bryce put his hand on the small of Honor’s back even though from the strength of her voice, she didn’t need any comforting.
“I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo myself,” his grandma said, a twinkle in her eye. “One of those cute skull and bones, I think.”
“Not the badass one?” Bryce teased, used to his grandmother’s youthful vim and vigor.
“Don’t tempt me, mister.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Bishop? A quick word before we begin?” said the woman Bryce thought was head of public relations for the foundation.
His grandmother smiled warmly at Honor. “Excuse me, would you? We’ll talk more during dinner.” She cast Bryce a quick look of affection—and approval—and took her leave.
“I like her,” Honor said with tenderness.
“I’m pretty sure she loved you.” He watched Honor’s eyes widen just enough for him to know his use of the L word affected her. “So listen, I’d like another date with you after this.”
She swallowed. He did, too. Her brother stood between them, knots of uncertainty deep in his gut, too, but he was powerless to stop himself from asking for more.
“I want to keep seeing you. I want to learn everything about you and have lots of amazing, sweaty sex.” Damn, her blush turned him on. “I want to go places, do things, see the world through your eyes, too. What do you say?”
“I…” She took his face in her hands. “Okay.”
His new favorite word. He grinned. From somewhere over his shoulder, he heard his name being called. They broke apart, and he led her toward their table.
Danny, Zane, Liv, and Sophie were already sitting. His parents walked up at the same time as he and Honor. Bryce made introductions, his mom gushing over the Roseville pottery Honor had helped select. His father cornered him about work, asking questions Bryce didn’t have all the answers to yet, but that felt strangely okay.
