“Sure. Is that all you need?”

“Tell him I need help. It’s not like I’ve asked him to pick up tampons or anything.”

“He’ll know what you’re talking about?”

“Oh yeah. Just tell him I can’t go pick up Grandma Lulu and take her to the quilting thing. He’ll have to do it this week.”

“Got it. Take your grandma to quilting.”

“She’s not really my grandma. She’s my dad’s second cousin. But we call her—”

There’s a crashing sound in the background. Josie makes an irritated noise deep in her throat that resembles a warning growl. “Listen, I need to go. Some kid knocked over a shelf. Thanks.”

Silence.

I glance at my cell to see she’s disconnected. At least she thought of me.

I really had no friends in Tacoma. As soon as I made any, Wesley found reasons to dislike them. He’d say the females were bad influences on me. Once I went to the movies with a girl who lived down the road. Wesley accused me of meeting men with her. All I wanted was watch a movie and meet a bucket of buttered popcorn. Laugh and talk to another girl. Be silly.

Having a male friend was out of the question.

So, I’ve gotten accustomed to being self-sufficient, detached, alone. But I want it to be different here.

Our building is noisy in the mornings. The bakery downstairs rumbles with the banging of sheet pans into ovens long before customers enter the doors at 6:00 am. I don’t mind the sounds. It comforts me in a way. The sweet smells remind me of childhood and Mama.

I walk across the hall to Leo’s door and listen for a moment. Monitoring his schedule like I have, I know he’s awake. It’s puzzling to me if he gets any sleep at all since he wakes early and stays up late into the night. My soft knock brings him to the door immediately.

He’s showered already with wet hair slicked off his handsome face. A smell of shampoo and wood and man envelopes me. I have an insane desire to step closer and inhale more of that goodness into my lungs. He’s more scrumptious than the bakery’s cinnamon rolls.

Somebody should package him up for resale.

Leo frowns at me and I get the feeling he’s not a morning person. He really should work on his happiness factor.

“Hi Harper,” he says.

His gaze travels down the length of my body and my nipples tighten. I’m wearing cotton pajamas, since I thought I’d spend the morning reading Glorious Dead in bed. My clothing is perfectly acceptable for messenger type duty. Except for the lack of a bra and the obvious headlights I’m sporting, I’m more covered than most of the girls he’d pass on the street.

“Hey. Josie called.”

“What’s wrong?” Alarm spreads across his face so fast I barely have time to stop it.

“Nothing. Whoa. Sorry. It’s just she couldn’t get you to answer your phone.”

He exhales, and if anything, his expression grows darker. “I’ve told her to leave a message. I don’t pick up when I’m writing.”

My gaze narrows to an assessing squint. I recognize this unfriendly man as the Mr. Expose who is too rude and stubborn to look for my postcard.

“Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m supposed to tell you that she can’t take your grandma to some club thing…” I trail off, trying to remember exactly what Josie’s message was.

Leo raises both eyebrows. “My grandmother is dead.”

“No. I meant to say…” I’m flustered that I appear to be so inept. “Grandma Lulu.”

He opens the door wide. “Were you even awake when she called you?” He again glances at what I’m wearing.

“Yes, I was. For your information, I was reading your book and then she called. But you’re so grumpy it made me forget what she said exactly.”

“What book?” He grabs his phone from the end table. “Glorious Dead?”

“Yeah.”

He studies his cell phone. “She’s blowing up my phone. Ten missed calls. I hope she doesn’t call you like that.”

“No. It’s the first time she’s called me. But I’m so glad I have her number now.” I try to tamp down the wistful tone to my voice, but it’s out there and too late.

He punches the screen and holds the phone to his ear, listening to a voice mail. When he’s finished, he sits on his bar stool. “You could’ve asked me for her number.”

“You seem busy. I don’t want to interrupt your creativity flow or whatever you do in here.”

He chuckles. “The thing I said about Josie calling and messages? Well, she calls me a lot. Every day. I can’t spend all my time on the phone with her.”

“Must be nice.” I sit on the arm of the sofa. “I mean, to have real family that you can share your life with.”

Leo stares at me and then out the window. “It’s good. When our parents died a few years back, we realized we can’t take family for granted.”

I nod. “What happened to your folks?”

“Plane crash. My dad was a pilot. He ran charter flights. They were on a trip to pick up some organ transplants and the engine failed.”

A hollow feeling bottoms out deep in my stomach. I picture an aircraft encased in flames and the mental image takes my mind to the car wreck. To Wesley. I grip the side of the edge of the sofa, digging my nails into the leather arm. “That’s terrible.”

Leo’s gaze flicks down to my hands and his eyebrows dip in concern. I inhale and relax my body.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” he says.

“I’m OK. But if it bothers you…”

“It was years ago.” He stares at me silently for several seconds before turning his back to me to glance out the window. “Man, it’s nice out there today. Not too muggy.”

“Uh huh.”

“Josie’s message says I have to take Grandma Lulu to quilting. I guess I need some fresh air. I’ve been working on a deadline and haven’t been out enough lately.”

“Where does Grandma Lulu live?”

“Nursing home. It’s about 25 miles from here and her quilting club meets at a senior citizens’ center down the road. I have to wait a couple of hours in the area while she’s there.”

“I wish I could get out of here today. Could I tag along?”

He turns around slowly. “To take Grandma Lulu? Are you serious?”

“Oh. That was kind of pushy. Sorry.” I get to my feet.

“It’s not very exciting.” One corner of his mouth quirks.

“I’ll be in my pajamas all day if you don’t take me. How’s that for a party?”

He grins. “The quilters are gonna love you.”

I hop from my perch on his sofa. “When do I have to be ready?”

“How about 9:30? She needs to be there at 10:00.”

I nod and smile. “Got it. See you in a while.”

Grandma Lulu isn’t what I’d pictured. A complete opposite to my grandmothers back in Texas, Lulu is loud and rowdy. After the introductions in her tidy room at the nursing home, she shoves a twenty-pound canvas bag into my hands.

“Make sure you don’t drop that. There are two jars of boysenberry jam inside,” she says.

I nod and clutch the bag by both handles. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Darlin, just call me Grandma Lulu. You need to eat more. What are your intentions with Leo?”

Leo walks ahead to open the retirement home door. “She’s only a friend.”

Grandma Lulu shakes her head. “Boy, I should tan your hide for stringing this girl along. Of course she’s your friend. But that’s not all. You’ve never brought a girl to meet me before.” She scoots her walker along at a remarkable pace. The yellow tennis balls at the bottom of each leg thump against the linoleum.

“I’m only his neighbor.” I follow her out the door.

“You a natural blonde?” she asks without turning to look at me.

Leo opens the door of his car he’s pulled to the curb. “Grandma Lulu. Can you behave yourself?”

I glance over at Leo to see he’s grinning. She’s not bothering him at all.

“Yes, this is my natural color,” I say. “But when I was a teenager I did let my friend put highlights on my hair once.”

“I like the color it is. You shouldn’t mess with what Mother Nature gave you.” Her gaze moves from me to Leo. “You look good beside Leo. You’ll make pretty babies.”