Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline 1)

Maybe he wasn’t a child, but he had a habit of falling if they didn’t keep a close eye on him.

“That’s not Pammie, William. That’s Addison, our granddaughter,” Gran corrected automatically.

There was no point in trying to change his mind. He’d been calling Addison his sister’s name for almost a year, even though they looked nothing alike and he hadn’t seen his sister, who lived in Florida, for almost a decade. It used to bother Addison, but as time went on and he grew more confused, it had become the least of her worries.

He ignored his wife so she turned to Addison, rolling her eyes.

“Did I tell you that at lunch they served him peas?” She shook her head as though it was a travesty of justice. “I tell them over and over that they make him gassy and give him a stomachache, but do they listen? No. It’s a good thing I come as often as I do because no matter how many detailed notes I leave, the workers can’t remember the simplest things. Sometimes I think I should buy a car and live in their parking lot. It would be easier on both of us.”

For years, Addison had watched the love of her grandmother’s life slowly turn into a stranger. Gramps hadn’t just been a distant pleasant figure in Addison’s life—he’d been the “teach her how to drive stick and change the oil” kind of grandfather. He’d been the one to accidentally teach her the word “shit” when she was three. He’d been the one who always had money for the candy store, and never balked about playing board games or turning the house upside down to help her set up blanket forts. She’d been his little buddy. Although she knew it wasn’t unexpected with Alzheimer’s, secretly it hurt that he’d forgotten her. Forgotten she even existed. Half the time he didn’t remember Gran or Addison’s parents either, but it still sucked.

After seeing her grandmother go through this, Addison had decided staying single for the rest of her life would be a lot less painful than watching the most important person in her world die. Maybe it was an immature way to approach life, but it was also a lot less complicated and horrible.

Linda, Gran’s favorite worker, came to bring him inside to change his incontinence stuff before supper. It was the one job Gran hadn’t minded handing over. Addison couldn’t imagine what it would be like having to take responsibility for changing her own husband. Such a small detail, but it was one that she had trouble getting past. She was sure if she loved someone enough to marry him she would do what was necessary if anything ever happened, but it was hard to face old age, sickness, and death at twenty-three. Couldn’t she just pretend people were immortal for a few more years? She enjoyed visiting her grandfather, but picturing herself in a similar situation someday made her want to run off and do something crazy—now, while she was still young enough to live.

Like joining a grand theft auto ring. She snorted at herself. Yeah. That was crazy all right. But even worse was getting in so deep with the group lea

der.

“Don’t think for a minute that I don’t know what’s going through your head every time you come to visit us lately,” Gran said, narrowing her eyes. “There’s no point in feeling sorry for him or for me, so stop it.”

Shame welled. Had she been that obvious? She thought she’d done a decent job of being upbeat and supportive.

Gran cleared her throat, as though she was stalling to collect her thoughts. “As awful as this must seem to you, I don’t regret my life—not even this part. Do I hate that he’s sick? Yes. Do I get satisfaction out of knowing I haven’t abandoned him completely to nurses who are strangers? Of course. Our situations could have been reversed, and I know in my heart that if I was the one who was sick, he wouldn’t abandon me either.”

“Of course he wouldn’t have!” Addison thought of her gramps, and how he used to follow Gran around the kitchen, getting stuff out of cupboards she couldn’t reach and teasing her until she smacked him with the dishtowel. They’d been very kissy with each other, which had seemed gross to her as a child, but now that she was an adult she realized how special it was that they’d still felt that way after all those years.

“I don’t regret marrying your grandfather, you know,” she said, as though Addison thought she did.

“Gran . . . I know you don’t. You two had the perfect marriage.”

“Not perfect, no, but damn happy. We fought. We never did see eye to eye on how to spend money, but in the end we probably made more memories taking road trips in that convertible of his than we would have in the kitchen remodel I wanted.” She laughed, and to Addison’s horror, she winked, as though the car had been fun in ways Addison really didn’t want to know about.

“I don’t regret taking care of him at home as long as I did, and I’m going to be here for him as much as I’m allowed to be until he leaves us.” She shrugged. Most nights they had to convince her to go home, and she was back again as soon as visiting hours began the next day.

Addison took a serious look at her Gran for the first time in months. Her cardigan hung from her frail shoulders, making her look like she’d lost weight. For the first time in Addison’s memory this woman—the rock of her family— looked old. Sure, she was almost eighty, but she’d always been so spry and full of life. That was why her parents hadn’t fought too hard when Gran had insisted she wanted to keep Gramps home for so many years. Now that he was falling more, though, she couldn’t help him transfer from bed to chair and back. More than once Gran had collapsed under his weight while trying to help him. The situation hadn’t been safe for either of them anymore.

“The years we gave to each other are worth all of this, Addison. Sometimes life leads us down paths we don’t foresee, but loving someone isn’t about dignity and convenience. For better and for worse, that’s what we promised. Guarding yourself against loving people might seem like the easiest way to keep from getting hurt, but life is a short ride and if you have no one in the seat beside you, it’s lonely.”

It was funny how everything about Gramps had to do with cars, even now that he didn’t remember owning one.

“At least when my William is gone, I’ll have decades of memories. Most good, some bad, but all of them mine.” Her smile was sad, but filled with the calm satisfaction of a life well lived, even if their years together had been cut short. “Besides, Gramps would hate it if you stayed single because of him. It would break his heart.”

“Well, I’m not really seeing anyone who’s marriage material at the moment,” she admitted, “but I’ll remember that.”

A mental image of Fox popped into her head, along with the sexy threatening texts he’d been sending over the past few days about how he seriously regretted not fucking her ass. Her cheeks burned, and she pretended to be busy following a lizard so Gran wouldn’t notice her expression.

God, Fox was bad and so fucking hot—but she couldn’t imagine them having the kind of relationship together that her grandparents would approve of. Fox was not a man she could bring to Sunday dinner.

“A man who can put that look on your face might be a keeper,” Gran mused, linking her arm with Addison’s and leading her back toward the building.

Not for the first time she was happy her grandmother couldn’t read her mind.

But Fox a keeper? Not fucking likely. He was a fun diversion, but that was all. Some hot sex, an awesome adrenaline rush, but she wasn’t ready to settle down. There were lots of options to explore, and she liked the freedom of being single.

She gave her head a shake. Why was she arguing with herself? And why the hell was she so defensive about it? It wasn’t as if she had to convince herself she and Fox didn’t have a future.

Then why did it feel like she did?