I peek over her shoulder, looking in the full-length mirror to confirm what I already know. She looks lovely.
“My goodness.” Rosie giggles, pulling at the fabric restlessly. “You sure this isn’t too modern for an old fuddy-duddy like me?”
I grin at her use of the term fuddy-duddy. Can’t say I’ve heard that one in a long while.
“Yes,” I say to assure her, gently squeezing her shoulders. “You look perfect. It’s got that Jackie Kennedy class with a little modern chic to it.”
“Thank you.” She chuckles, her berry-painted lips stretching into a shy smile as she turns to meet my eyes. “Thank you, dear. Tonight is . . . well, I’ll just say that I haven’t gotten ready for a date in decades.”
I wrap her in a hug, careful not to smudge her meticulously applied makeup. “You bet.”
There’s a knock behind us, and Hayes’s voice travels through the door, filled with annoyance and impatience. “Hey, are we doing this or what?”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not even time yet, Hayes. We’ll be out in five minutes.”
Rosie shoots me a knowing wink. She sees through his attitude as clearly as I do. He’s been a pill ever since meeting Don at Riverside.
I would give Hayes a piece of my mind about it, but I know he’s just uncomfortable. For the past several years, he’s been Rosie’s number-one caretaker, confidant, and companion. It has to be hard to imagine someone else getting close to his grandmother, especially a stranger.
Meanwhile, I’m just happy for the both of them—Don especially. He’s been considerably less of a grump since meeting Rosie. Over the past few days, he’s gone out of his way to “casually” run into me in the halls of Riverside, resulting in impassioned conversations about Rosie’s favorite flowers, Rosie’s favorite movies, Rosie’s favorite foods. It’s cute.
After running the details by me, Don decided on a full evening of activities, which includes a trip to the local historic movie theater, a pit stop at the neighboring ice cream parlor, and a walk down to the lakefront to watch the sunset.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little impressed. Who knew he was such a romantic?
Hayes and I are accompanying them, on the basis of it being a double date. But we all know the double-date spin is a total facade for fundamental logistics. Hayes doesn’t want Rosie driving after dark, and Don hasn’t owned a car in at least a decade. Furthermore, the logistics are just an excuse for Hayes to spy on Don the con man, who appears to be armed with nothing more than a few jokes and a listening ear.
Regardless of how Hayes spends his energies this afternoon, I’m choosing to see it as a double date. A double date in which I get to spend more time with the hottest guy I know.
When Rosie and I are finished, we step out of her bedroom to find Hayes waiting on the couch, his knee bouncing nervously as he scrolls through his phone. When his eyes meet mine, they immediately wander down the length of my body, taking in my high ponytail, exposed shoulders and collarbones, cinched waist, and finally—my long, tanned legs. His knee stills, his phone forgotten in his hand while he ogles my cute and sexy summertime look. His lips part and then shift into a cute half smile.
Hayes doesn’t look too shabby himself, wearing a pair of comfy army-green chinos and a short-sleeved white button-up. We share a look that says, You look good. Like, really good. I’d relish the moment for a smidge longer, but we’re on a timeline. Plus, I’m pretty sure Rosie wouldn’t appreciate me eye-fucking her grandson right in front of her.
Piling into the Lexus with Rosie comfortably in the back seat, we drive to Riverside to pick up Don. When we pull into the circular driveway, he’s waiting just inside the front doors. His hair smoothed back, he wears a light blue sweater with brown slacks and a golden-yellow bow tie. A bouquet of daisies are clutched in his hands—Rosie’s favorite, naturally. My heart swells from the cuteness of it all.
Don is the picture of a dapper gentleman, only dropping the act to shoo away a hovering CNA. I step out of the car to sign him out for the evening, then help him into one of the back seats, shooting him a congratulatory wink as Rosie coos over the flowers. I’m amazed we make it to the movie theater at all with the way Hayes is white-knuckling the steering wheel.
By some brilliant turn of fate, or some excellent foresight on Don’s part, Soylent Green is the old film of the week. Our adorable charges are eager to find the perfect seats, so I take Hayes by the hand and pull him toward the concessions stand.
“All right, Mr. Chaperone, time to let the kids off the leash,” I say, teasingly bumping him with my hip.
His arm wraps around my waist, his hand slipping into the pocket of my romper to rest his fingers on the sensitive bump of my hip bone. A shiver floods through me at the contact, my body thrumming with the memory of those skillful fingers operating that sex toy. Ever since that experience, I’ve been feeling reckless . . . and a little wild.
“No kids here,” he says, flashing me a smile that’s more of a grimace. “From what I can tell, that’s a full-on old dude staring at my grandmother’s butt.”
I laugh at the implication, because Don would sooner die than get caught staring at a woman’s backside, proper gentleman that he is. “You’re right, they are adults. All the more reason to trust them to take care of themselves, hmm?” I ask, rubbing his back comfortingly.
“I didn’t say that I don’t trust Rosie,” Hayes grumbles, scanning the overhead menu. “I just don’t think that she always knows what’s best for her.”
All right, Operation Reassurance is going to take a little more effort than I
