Love at Blind Date Complete Series: Books 1-4

by Lorelei M. Hart

  Stella tag-teamed me at the door. Literally. She held out her hand for a tap out and bound across the street. Damn, she had a lot of energy for someone her age. Scratch that. She had a lot of energy...period.

  “Did Gran just pass the baton?” Ethan’s rich laughter filled my ears. “She was so excited to have someone to watch her shows with and who knew what the heck was going on.”

  “No baton.” I showed him my empty hands, suddenly wondering if I should've brought him something. That was what you did when you were a guest, but I was his grandmother’s guest, sort of. This whole thing was flipping confusing.

  “Lunch?” He held out his arm for me to come in, and I worked my way to the kitchen table, which was already set, a big casserole in the middle.

  He held a seat out for me, like a real date.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” He walked around to his seat, not the one beside me, the one across. And dagnabit, it disappointed me. “Gran says you love mac and cheese. Said it was your favorite.”

  “When I was eight, it was.” I thought about when she brought Grandpa and me casseroles every Monday after my mom died, always saying it was what neighbors did. After I told her I loved it, they were all versions of said dish.

  “Why do you look sad? Did I say something wrong?” Crap. I was ruining the one nice outing I’d had since I arrived by being unintentionally melancholy.

  “Sorry. I was thinking about when your grandmother used to bring us mac and cheese after my mom died.” I reached for the serving spoon. “I still love it.”

  “Shit. She didn’t tell me—”

  “Fuck. Sex. Fuck.” Floyd was still there. Of course he was. And thank goodness. I didn’t want to be thinking about the loss of my mom right now.

  “I need to eat first,” I called to the bird. “I don’t think he enjoyed me not noticing him. Does he go everywhere with you?” That was a safer subject. Far less sad.

  We chatted about how he came to get his bird and how said bird had learned his amazing vocabulary. I’d heard of stray cats before, but a parrot? That had to be someone trying to get rid of him and that made my heart hurt. Parrots were forever pets. I didn’t know much about them, but I knew that much.

  We then moved on to talking about our work, his as a professor and mine as a tailor. Our jobs couldn’t be more different and yet we had some similar stories. He told me about students and the things they tried to pull, and I did the same about customers. We laughed. A lot. And by the time my plate was clean, I was ready to ask him out on a proper date. I wasn’t the kind of omega who waited to be asked out.

  But then I remembered this was all temporary. I was leaving. He was leaving. And under the best of circumstances, it would suck, and there were so many not-best circumstances to consider as well. So instead I bit my tongue. I would enjoy this afternoon and leave it at that.

  “That was delicious.” It had been too. It wasn’t the standard orange cheese kind. No, there were some fancy cheeses in there.

  “I didn’t make dessert. I’m not good at sweets, but I make a fabulous coffee, and by make, I mean I order them like a champ. Or we can go to the coffee shop.” He set his napkin on his plate.

  “You made lunch?” I had assumed it was Stella.

  “The mac and cheese, yeah. Grandma taught me when I was going to college. Said every alpha needs to be able to cook a few things or he’ll starve or go broke on take-away. She made the rolls.”

  “I went broke on take-away,” I confessed. “It was absolutely delicious, by the way. In case I didn’t mention it.”

  “You did. And thank you.” He stood up and stacked together the plates, batting my hand away when I tried to help.

  “So how about that coffee. We can ride. I have my bike. Left it here yesterday.” Great. He was sexy, sweet, funny, could cook, and rode a bike. Why couldn’t he be gross or something. It would make this all easier.

  “I can’t. I mean, I shouldn’t. I’m only here until my grandfather is back on his feet. My business is in the city and I need to get back to it.”

  “I understand.” He bit his bottom lip, his hands full of dirty dishes. “I’m only here for a bit too. Maybe...as friends.”

  It doesn’t feel like I could be just friends with you.

  “Maybe,” I mumbled as he left the room.

  107

  Ethan

  Keith was standing there awkwardly with Gran as I came back for more dishes. “Thanks for lunch, Miss Stella.”

  My grandmother grinned and blushed, reminding me of a schoolgirl. “Please, call me Stella. Enough with the Miss.” She’d been across the street looking in on Mr. Jenson but had popped back to check on us.

  “Sorry, I forgot, Stella,” he corrected. What he didn’t know was that Gran felt that there was some sort of youth-granting power via your first name. Like she somehow appeared younger to everyone when people were less formal Or whatever. It made her smile. ”Those rolls were so good. I had three. Can I have the recipe?”

  Gran tapped the side of her nose as I scraped off leftover cheese sauce into the garbage, wishing I could have licked my plate. “It’s a secret, handed down from my Italian nonna,” she said. “But if you want to come over again some time, Keith, I’ll bake some for you, maybe some biscotti too.”

  Without looking, I could feel her eyes burning into my back. She was so obvious. I wondered if she’d always been like that or if she’d picked up matchmaking skills from her soap operas.

  “It’s a date,” Keith replied. A long silence followed, and I cringed, inwardly wondering what Keith thought of me needing my gran to set me up on a blind date. And thanks to Floyd, who shouted, “Date! Date,” everyone was probably thinking the same thing. Awkward!

  “I should get back to work,” I said.

  “Ummm.” Keith jerked his head toward his grandfather’s place. “You forgot some stuff. Paint. Four cans plus a few other things.”

  “At your place?”

  “Mmmm,” he answered.

  Gran butted in before I could say anything. “Ethan’ll get that now, Keith. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

  “No problem. I brought them in the yard this morning, but I gave up on the bags of sand. They were heavy.”

  Gran’s fingers curled around my biceps. “Ethan goes to the gym when he’s in the city.”

  My own grandmother was pimping me out. I couldn’t look at Keith. But a sharp intake of breath from him had me glance up and our eyes met. Those gorgeous blue orbs held my gaze until it was ruined by Floyd who yelled, “Get laid.”

  “That damned bird. I swear I’m going to give him away if he keeps doing that.”

  But Keith sniggered. “You don’t mean that, do you? He’s hilarious.”

  He was right. I’d never give up on my parrot, even though he’d embarrassed me many times. Gran waggled her finger at him— the bird, not Keith—and offered him a slice of apple. “That’ll occupy Floyd while you and Keith get the paint.”

  Poor Keith. It was my job, but she’d pushed him into helping me. My grandmother was a crafty old woman, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a plan to get us together mapped out on her bedroom wall with pictures and arrows.

  “I’ll come too and sit with your grandpa, Keith. We can’t leave him alone for too long.”

  Gran was everywhere. Not for the first time, I wondered if I should give her details of what I wanted in a partner and let her have at it. She was a one-woman dating agency. Though memories of Shawn came flooding back and I decided against it. Sometimes, her judgment was flawed.

  She bustled out the door as Floyd lost interest in his apple and screeched, “Take me!”

  “I’ll be back soon, buddy,” I told him as I followed my grandmother and Keith.

  It took five minutes to get the rest of the stuff across the road. Two trips and we were done. Wish it had taken longer. I could have done my sexy swagger again. But the soap opera rules of strutting were, “Don’t overdo it,” so perhaps not.r />
  “Thanks for helping. Get in touch if Larry dumps any more of my deliveries on your doorstep.”

  “Will do.”

  I scratched a spot of dirt off the step. “Or you could phone me if you needed company. Someone to talk to. I can give you my number.”

  Keith hesitated. “As I said, Ethan...”

  “My fault. Sorry. I heard what you told me.” I got it. He wasn’t looking for something serious or he had a boyfriend. Maybe he was too busy with his tailoring job. His grandfather’s sick. He’s not thinking about anything else!

  “I’d love to. But helping Grandpa is why I’m here, and I really like being with him and he needs me. But there are times when I have to get out of the house, even if it’s for ten minutes.” He rubbed his chin. “Does that make me a bad person?”

  “Nope.”

  “But Ethan, I really like you…”

  Here we go. I’d been here before. I held up my hand. “No need to say it. This isn’t the right time. I get it.”

  He put a finger to my lips, and I inhaled his scent which reminded me of wildflowers swaying in a gentle breeze. That’s so cheesy. I had to stop listening in to Gran’s TV programs. I tamped down the urge to lick his finger. Having Floyd yell “Fuck!” as our introduction didn’t give me permission to stick out my tongue and taste him. But I want to!

  “Stop putting words in my mouth,” he said.

  “Okay.” But can I suck your finger while you’re telling me off?

  “Once Grandpa recovers, I’ll be heading home. I can’t start something only to stop it in a couple of weeks. Heartbreak isn’t something I want in my life right now. I’m concentrating on my career.”

  I nodded, hoping I was coming off as unconcerned and not needy. “That’s cool. I’ve taken a year off to follow my dream, so I get it.”

  Keith glanced at the building supplies. “Building your grandmother’s patio?”

  What the ever-loving fuck? But his beautiful eyes lit up, and his shoulders shook. He’s mocking me.

  “Sorry,” he chortled. “That was mean. It just popped out. You helping Stella is just as worthwhile as anything else.”

  “Like you with your grandpa.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  I pursed my lips. “Okay, I forgive you, but you owe me.”

  There was a hint of laughter in his voice as he said, “Oh no. This doesn’t sound good.”

  “Promise to have a beer with me one night. I’m sure Gran will sit with your grandfather for an hour.”

  “If not, perhaps we can ask Floyd,” Keith quipped. “He’d make a perfect grandpa-sitter.”

  The thought horrified me. “God, no! He’d teach him so many swear words.”

  “Well, your Gran’s been filling Grandpa in about her soaps and telenovelas. I mean, he’s always loved Shifter World, but now he’s obsessed thanks to her. Yesterday he asked if I thought Justin would get back together with Andy and whether Carl was Mindy’s real father, seeing as he’s a wolf.”

  I giggled at the thought of Gran indoctrinating Mr. Jenson.

  “He hasn’t been so animated since I arrived,” Keith added.

  “There you go. The power of Gran and soapy stories loved by millions.”

  And speaking of my grandmother, as soon as the words were out of my mouth, she came onto Mr. Jenson’s porch and yelled, “Keith. Your grandfather wants you.”

  Her voice held a sense of urgency, and with one last look at me, Keith charged across the road.

  Shit! We’d been joking about seeing one another and the two grands and their TV habits, and now… who knew what was happening. “Yell if you need anything,” I shouted to his retreating back.

  He tore inside the front door and Gran followed him. I eyed Floyd hoping he’d say something to reassure me, but he was inspecting a half-eaten grape on the floor of his cage.

  108

  Keith

  “He can’t be her father.” I rolled my eyes, unsure why I was explaining this yet again. “He’s an alpha wolf, meaning all of his children will be wolves. She needs to accept it and move on. It’s not like he can’t still be in her life. She is his daughter in all ways that matter.”

  “Mindy could be a latent, you know. Stella told me that Josiah didn’t even know he was a shifter until he met his mate. Just thought he was a normal guy and then boom—fur.”

  It had been a week since I’d gotten out of the house for anything other than the mail, a week since I talked to someone not Grandpa or his medical care staff, a week since I spoke with Ethan, and look what it resulted in? A far too detailed discussion over a soap opera.

  I needed to get out and be around anyone else.

  “That makes sense, I guess.”

  “You just don’t want to admit you’re wrong.” Grandpa picked up his remote. “Let me see if I can find that episode. You can go back and watch old ones now without even recording them.” He was still astonished at that. “Then we can see for sure.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “Looks like that has to wait. Barbara is here already.” She came to help him with hygiene things. He couldn’t take a real shower yet, but she got him good and clean, and I didn’t have to put him in the awkward position of me doing it for him. It was a win-win.

  I opened the door and she came on in, getting straight to business. Which, given her delicate job, was probably why she was so good at it. We knew absolutely nothing about her, she didn’t even pretend with small talk. Nope. Just the checklist and done. If she had been doing his physical therapy, that would be uncomfortable, but given she literally cleaned his ass, it was most likely for the best.

  “I’m going to work for a bit.” I wandered back to my childhood bedroom that now doubled as my office. I’d been doing a lot of great things for the shop. And that wasn’t me being pompous, I was blowing my mind. The web design course I was simultaneously taking led me through step by step, and we were already getting a gazillion times more hits than we were before. Which was good since I felt horrible for Jason going back to work full-time earlier than he expected.

  I pulled out my phone and shot him a quick text. I needed non-Grandpa time, as awful as it sounded.

  Got a minute?

  A full minute later he started typing a response, then stopped, then started again.

  Is everything ok with your grandfather?

  Yeah, he’s healing well. I just thought we could chat. I left off that I missed chatting with him all the time and was freaking lonely. He had enough on his shoulders with me being here without the guilt trip.

  Can I call you later? We just had a call about a wedding, and they ordered from Suit Man and didn’t know they had closed.

  Shit. I’d forgotten about that. The guy just up and moved to somewhere I didn’t even know where to marry someone they met on the internet.

  I’d had one date from my friend Colin’s Love or Hate app and realized that shit wasn’t for me. He thought my love of steak meant I was offering free blow jobs because of some made-up holiday about steaks and blowjobs that week. Yeah. All done with the internet dating crap.

  Good for him or what have you, but the influx of business was a bit to absorb, making my leave less than ideal.

  Sure. Sorry I can’t be there to help. Maybe some of his old employees were looking for work. I added “putting out feelers” on my mental to-do list. We really did need more help at the rate we were growing. Who’d have thought just over a year ago when it was just the two of us that doubling our staff wouldn’t be quite enough.

  I opened my laptop and tweaked a few things on the website, then checked it on my phone. It worked, but not exactly how I intended, so I went back to piddle farting around with it and eventually achieved victory. This computer stuff would never be a career thing for me, but it felt good to put the pieces together like this.

  “We’re done,” Barbara’s voice startled me.

  I went to the living room and let her know I heard her and asked about her next visit, reassuri
ng her that I would have the correct towels out next time. I wasn’t sure what those even were—a towel was a towel, but I found myself promising anyway.

  She left, and Grandpa was nestled in his recliner, already dozing.

  “Need anything?” I offered.

  “I’m good. Probably going to snooze a bit. Standing shouldn’t be that hard.” He clicked off the television, sounding so defeated.

  “I know, Grandpa. I know. And soon it won’t be.” I grabbed the blanket on the quilt rack and draped it over him.

  “You're a good boy, Keith. Thanks.”

  “Anything for you.” I meant it too. Once upon a time, he had given up everything for me. It was the least I could do.

  My stomach grumbled. It was too early for dinner, but not too early to start cooking.

  I took out a pan, deciding to do some basic baked chicken for dinner. Grandpa loved it and it was easy. We had some potatoes, and I was pretty sure a can of something that once resembled a vegetable.

  I went to open the fridge and there was the note Stella had left when she was here with Grandpa. Not so much a note as a command. Call Him with Ethan’s phone number.

  I wasn’t going to do it. Nope. Just because I was lonely and he was nice and funny and hot as hell didn’t mean I was going to call him.

  I opened the fridge and grabbed the chicken. Besides, I had cooking to do and then eating and cleaning and talking to Jason.

  Nope.

  I wasn’t going to call him. Him as in Ethan.

  Not gonna happen.

  It happened.

  A few hours later, I texted him instead, telling myself I stayed strong. I was such a liar.

  109

  Ethan

  I was on the couch, my eyes half-closed as the voices from the TV niggled at my subconscious. God help me, I’d gotten hooked on one of Gran’s favorite soaps. Some shifter thing, but my attention drifted and I’d been daydreaming about Keith.