Page 73 of The One You Want

“Um, no,” I said. “We justarrived.”

My grandmother narrowed her eyes. “I assume you slept in again.” Her eyes flicked up and down my body. “I can only guess that’s why you came to brunch looking so decidedly…rumpled.”

Grant stiffened even more at my side and I sensed him opening his mouth, ready to say something in my defense. I squeezed his hand, hoping he’d take the hint and keep quiet. It just wasn’t worth it. My grandmother was the way she’d always been—demanding and poised and unwilling to suffer those who didn’t meet her standards. There was no changingher.

Luckily, my grandfather kept up most of the conversation while we took a quick tour of the hotel. Once he got started talking about the Ottawa, there was little you could do to shut him up. He knew every single detail about this place, from its architecture to its history to the ins and outs of running the place on a dailybasis.

It was easy for me to resent this hotel. I’d spent a lot of lonely hours here in my early years. Plus the hotel had always been the main source of contention for the neighbors I so badly wanted to accept me. It was easy for me to forget just how special the place really was. It had been standing here, proud and beautiful on the bluff overlooking the island, for much longer than any of us had been alive, and it would be standing here long after we weregone.

Eventually we made our way to the dining room, where my grandfather rattled off statistics—the pounds of glass it had taken to make the grand walls of windows overlooking the bay far below, the number of diners the hotel saw each day of the summer, the tons of beef and produce the kitchen would go through on a busyday.

I knew Grant had to be bored but he nodded along as my grandfather rattled on, looking like he couldn’t be more pleased to sit there and listen for the rest of the morning. Luckily, a waiter arrived at the table to hand out menus and Grandpa had to pause talking long enough to look athis.

Unfortunately, that just gave my grandmother an opportunity to jump in. “So.” She fixed Grant with her steely gaze. “My granddaughter tells me you’re afarmer.”

Her voice was entirely polite but there was no question of the disdain she felt when she said the wordfarmer. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Grant hide a smile behind his water glass. At least he had a sense of humor aboutit.

As he lowered his glass, something caught my eye. His fingers. They were callused, like always, but they wereclean. Like, totally dirt free, even his nails. I didn’t think I had ever seen Grant without at least a hint of soil in the grooves of his skin. I imagined him rushing back to his house that morning so he could get ready. How long had he had to scrub his nails to make them look likethat?

It was strange—I was touched by the fact he’d gone to so much trouble. At the same time, I really, really missed the dirt. It just felt like him—Grant, who could spend hours and hours toiling away in his greenhouse, talking to the flowers, elbows deep insoil.

“I do grow my own flowers,” he said, and I forced myself to pay attention to the conversation. “On my farm and in mygreenhouse.”

“Grandmother, I’ve brought you some of Grant’s flowers before,” I reminded her. “Remember that peony bouquet you liked somuch.”

Her eyes swept his face, and I could see the hint of surprise there. “Those wereyours?”

“Yes, ma’am. I put that arrangement together for you particularly. Jenny told me how much you like ivory peonies. You had them in your wedding bouquet, if I remembercorrectly?”

I didn’t bother biting back my grin. My grandmother was definitely looking more than surprised now, and maybe even a little impressed. Leave it to Grant to remember the details about an arrangement he’d made weeksago.

“Grant owns a shop in town,” I told them, hearing the undisguised pride in my own voice. “He just opened it at the start of thesummer.”

“What are your margins like?” my grandfather asked in his stern businessman voice, leaning across the table towards us. “It’s very difficult to keep operating on this island in thewinter.”

“I know it,” Grant said. “Luckily, I did much better this summer than initiallyexpected.”

“Which you can’t count on continuing into the lean months,” my grandmother saidsharply.

“Right,” Grant said seriously. “So I’ve been working on diversifying as much as I can to keep the locals buying through the season. I have a mail order business as well for my herbs and dried arrangements. I’m looking to expand into essential oils and I do some private events in the winter aswell.”

Grandpa pointed a finger at him, nodding. “Diversification is very important. That’s smartthinking.”

I felt another rush of warm pride. My grandmother was going to be a tough nut for anyone to crack, but there was nothing my grandfather respected more than smart business sense. Maybe this wouldn’t be as painful as Ithought.

And to my shock, I was actually right. My grandfather peppered Grant with questions about his shop and Grant gave as good as he got, asking endless questions about the running of the hotel and my grandfather’s experiences in business over the years. Even my grandmother warmed up to him when he started telling her about the different flowers he was hoping to grow in the greenhouse through thewinter.

By the time we left, I was so relieved I could cry, and I didn’t hold back when I went to hug both of my grandparents goodbye. “Thank you,” I murmured to my grandpa, squeezing him tight. “Thank you for being nice tohim.”

He chuckled, patting my back. “I just want you to be happy, peanut. That’s the only thing I’ve everwanted.”

Well, I felt pretty damn happy as we left the hotel hand-in-hand a few minutes later. “You’re relieved,” Grant said, looking over atme.

“Sorelieved,” I replied. “I thought they were going to be awful toyou.”

“Nah,” he slipped his arm around my shoulders. “You should have remembered how completely charming and wonderful Iam.”

I snorted and batted his hand away. “Yeah, even the icy heart of Caroline Hillman was no match for you.” I let out a long sigh of relief. “Seriously, I’m so glad that wentwell.”