Chapter 6: Violet

I roll my eyes and attempt to put a positive spin on what never should have been heard in the first place. "At least they're still active and in love." I give him a hard poke in those rock-solid abs of his. They're bounce-a-quarter-off tight. "You should be so lucky to have hot sex when you're in your seventies."

All right, so maybe that comment crossed a line.

By like a mile.

Sam winces before muttering, "Jeez, Vi! You saying that is almost as bad as hearing them go at it."

As those grumbled words slide from his lips, my grandmother's voice fills the air as she breezes through the hallway leading from the kitchen to the large foyer. "Violet and Sam, you're here!"

The guy next to me straightens to his full height as I give her a cheerful smile. "Hi, Gran!"

With a pleased expression, she envelopes my body in her arms before giving me a little squeeze. My eyelids flutter closed as I sink into her embrace.

This feeling right here...it's exactly what home feels like. After everything that happened with my parents, Gran was always there with a warm hug and words of comfort. It was together that we made it through our shared grief.

As I untangle myself from her, I glance around the spacious foyer and living room to the left. It's filled with delicate furniture and priceless antiques that have been collected over a lifetime. Most mornings, my grandfather likes to sit in the sun-filled space and enjoy a cup of coffee while perusing the newspaper. Even though he's quite adept at tooling around on the internet, he prefers to read a physical copy. He likes the feel of it in his hands. Every morning, the paper is delivered to the house around six. When I don't find him in his normal spot, a kernel of concern blooms in the pit of my belly. "Where's Gramps?"

Despite her lips tipping up at the corners, I catch the worry that flickers in her hazel-colored eyes before vanishing. "He's upstairs resting a bit." Before I can fire off anymore questions, she turns to Sam and pulls him in for a hug. That's all it takes for a smile to tug at the edges of my lips as I watch Sam get wrapped up in my grandmother's delicate embrace.

An unexpected warmth fills my heart as I stare at the pair. Sam has known my grandparents his entire life. He thinks of them as his own. He'd probably continue to stop by and check on them even if I weren't in the picture.

I can't help but love him for that. Not all twenty-two-year-old college guys would give a rat's ass about the wellbeing of their elderly neighbors. In high school, he would cut their lawn in the summer, rake their leaves in the autumn, and shovel snow from their walkway after each winter storm.

As my grandmother pulls away, she loops her arm through Sam's before turning back to me. "I'm so glad you two were able to find the time to stop by for a visit. The toilet in the upstairs bathroom is leaking, and Edward hasn't felt up to taking a look at it." She beams another smile at Sam.

My brows slide together as the concern returns full force. I don't like to think about anything being seriously wrong with either one of my them. As much as I hate to admit it, they've slowed down over the years. Even though I knew it was bound to happen, it's still hard to accept.

And this is a large, rambling hundred-year-old home in need of constant repairs, upkeep, and maintenance. There are times when I worry that it's too much for them to handle on their own. Even though my grandfather is seventy-five years old, and my grandmother is closing in on seventy-two, I can't imagine them sitting around, languishing in a senior citizen home. It's an issue that will need to be dealt with in the not-so-distant future.

"Is Gramps okay?" I hate the way my heart skips a beat as I give voice to my concerns. Over the past couple of years, he has suffered from a few heart issues. I don't know what my grandmother or I would do without him. It's been the three of us for so long. The thought of him not being around has a thick knot of apprehension forming in the pit of my belly.

"He's fine. Just feeling a bit under the weather. it's nothing to be concerned about." She gives Sam's bulging forearm a little pat. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered you with this."

"It's no problem, Mrs. Winterfield. You know that I don't mind helping out."

She shoots him another grateful smile before reaching up to pat his cheek. "I know that, Samuel. You're such a dear boy. You always have been." Her gaze latches on to mine before adding somewhat coyly, "One of these days you're going to make some woman very happy."

Right...

Forget what I said about coy. There's absolutely nothing sly about her comment or the calculating look she aims in my direction. I almost roll my eyes because what she really means to say is that I should nab Sam before some other lucky lady snaps him up.

Have I mentioned that my grandmother fancies herself a matchmaker and is constantly trying to nudge me in Sam's direction? When I was in high school, her machinations used to annoy me. Now, it's more of a running joke between the three of us.

As my gaze returns to Sam, I think my grandmother might be right in her assessment. He'll probably make some woman extremely happy. A tiny prick of displeasure slides through me at the notion before I shrug it away.

Sam's bright blue gaze stays locked on mine. Barely is he able to contain the smile simmering around the edges of his lips. "Oh, I don't know about that, Mrs. Winterfield. I can't seem to find a woman willing to put up with me."

Disbelief settles on Gran's expression as she squeezes his arm again. I'm beginning to suspect that she might be enjoying herself a little too much over there. I can't blame her for it. Even Sam's muscles have muscles. His entire body is solid and well-defined. "I have a hard time believing that! You're such a handsome boy. Not to mention, smart."

She stares at me as if I'm too clueless to realize what I'm missing out on. Unconsciously, my gaze slides back to Sam before settling on his smirking lips. That kiss, the one I keep insisting was completely insignificant, forces its way into my thoughts. A little shiver skitters its way down my spine as I remember what it felt like to have his warm mouth sliding over mine. My entire body stiffens as that image plays through my mind in slow-mo.

What the hell am I doing?

My cheeks fill with heat as I yank my gaze from his and shove that thought away before clearing my throat. "I guess Sam should probably get to it, huh?"

A satisfied smile tugs at my grandmother's mouth. It's like she knows exactly what's running through my brain. "The tools should already be up there, dear."

"All right, then. I'll go up and take a look at what's going on. Hopefully, it'll be an easy fix and we won't have to call a plumber." His brows draw together and his gaze shifts between us as if realizing he's been left out of a private joke. "After that, I need to stop and say hello to my parents."

I jerk my head into a nod before Sam disappears up the curving staircase. We hear his heavy footfalls on the second floor as he makes his way to the bathroom. Once he's gone, my grandmother turns to me with a contented smile.

"It's difficult to believe that Sam is still single." Just in case I hadn't already gotten the hint, she adds, "A strapping lad like that won't stay that way for long."

I can't help the gurgle of laughter that escapes as I repeat, "Strapping?"

Her face crinkles with humor. "Back in my day, we used to describe muscular men as strapping."

I certainly can't disagree with her assessment. Sam is most definitely strapping.

She lowers her voice before picking up the threads of our previous conversation. "It's surprising that you two have never gotten together. He's the kind of man who would treat a woman right."

I roll my eyes.

Here we go again.

Cue the Sam is the best guy in the whole wide world spiel.

It's not like I disagree with her. He's amazing. But there are only so many times I can hear it.

"Gran," I practically groan.

I've lost count of how many occasions we've had this conversation. It must be somewhere around a million. Needless to say, my grandmother adores Sam. Actually, adores isn't a strong enough word. And I can't deny that she's probably right in her prediction. Sam would treat any woman he was with like a princess. He's so sweet and caring. There's absolutely nothing douchey about the guy. Which admittedly is a rare find on any college campus these days.

Knocking me out of my reverie, she waves a hand in front of my face. "Oh, don't deny an old woman her pleasure. One of these days, you're going to open your eyes and see what's been sitting in front of you this entire time." Instead of waiting for a response, she hooks her arm through mine before patting my hand affectionately. "You mark my words, Violet. Some girl will snag his interest one of these days and she'll thank her lucky stars to have found such a wonderful young man."

Instead of focusing on the comment, I snort before muttering under my breath, "Old woman, my ass."

Not bothering to chastise me for my language, she chuckles. "Why don't we make lunch for when that strapping young man of yours is finished fixing the toilet."

I give her a dramatic sigh before following her to the sun-filled kitchen.