18. Get Real

18

GET REAL

" Y ou received flowers from another guy at work today?" Van asked hours later.

He was trying to process what was said as Kelsey was cooking dinner and delivered those words to him as if it was an afterthought.

"I don't know if it was a man," she said. "They gave a false name. Maybe it's a woman that just wants to meet me. J could stand for Jane. Someone might think I swing both ways."

He grunted at her attempted joke. "Highly unlikely," he said.

She turned and smiled at him. "It's not a big deal."

"Let me be the judge of that," he said.

"There is no threat," she said.

"Threat?" he asked. "Nope. Because if I find out who it is, they will know to not do it again."

"Are you jealous?" she asked, her jaw dropping.

"No," he said.

"Could have fooled me," she said, turning to check on the rice she had in a pot and then stirring the vegetables she'd dropped in the skillet. Chicken was sitting in another dish already cooked and seasoned.

"How would you feel if I told you some woman sent me beer with a note they couldn't wait to meet me?"

She pursed her lips. "Over my dead body."

"Ha," he said, pointing his finger.

"But I have no problem admitting I'm jealous. You said you weren't. So ha right back at you."

He frowned. That didn't work out the way he thought it would.

"Since the person hasn't met you, do you think it's one of the losers from your online dating apps? Are you still on them?"

He wasn't sure why the thought just popped into his head.

"No," she said. "I'm not. I deactivated my accounts after our second date. Which I have to say was nice of me. I haven't done that before when I've dated someone only twice." She moved closer to him and put her arms around his neck. "But I felt something for you and thought it was the right thing to do. After we had sex, I deleted them all. Poof." She snapped her fingers. "It's like I never existed on them."

"The internet is forever, Kelsey. Get real."

"I'm trying to make a joke about this," she said, planting a smacking kiss on his lips and returning to the dinner.

"It's not funny."

"It kind of is," she said. "Because you're jealous and won't admit it. There is no threat. Nothing to be worried about."

"Until the next thing comes. No one sends flowers with a note like that and then just drops off the face of the earth."

"Then maybe the next thing will have their name on it and I'll be able to tell them I've got a big strapping crabby man in my bed and I like it that way."

"Again, not funny."

Though he did like that she was willing to say that.

"I'm fine," she said. "I don't want anyone else but you. Do I need to prove that to you tonight?"

"You can," he said, smirking.

He figured the least he could do was dial it back even if he wasn't thrilled this happened.

It's not like she asked for it.

Or even knew.

She didn't appear to care all that much and she even told him right away.

"Then maybe we can trade things," she said.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"My brother would like to have us over for dinner next Wednesday at his house. He's cooking. Free meal."

He lifted one eyebrow at her. "You get a free meal whenever you walk into one of his restaurants."

"Not the same thing and you know it," she said. "Besides, that is different. My mother wants to meet you too. Be glad she doesn't come knocking on my door at an inopportune time if she knows you're here. That wouldn't be fun, now, would it? Imagine we are right at the peak of our orgasm and the door opens and there is my mother yelling in the living room looking for us. Urgh." She was shaking her head at him. "Just kills it. There is nothing worse than working up to a big explosion and then you get a little itty bitty spark wondering what the hell just happened."

"If all you ever get is a tiny spark when I'm done I want to know. I'll make it up to you."'

"Awww," she said. "Aren't you the sweetest thing making sure I come hard every time."

She really knew how to turn any conversation into a funny one.

Something he'd never had in his life.

He stood up and moved closer to her, had her trapped against the counter, his hips leaning into hers. "I'm going to make you scream my name out three times tonight. Enough that Frankie is going to leave more than one pile for you to pick up."

"Okay, now you're bragging," she said, elbowing him out of the way. "And if Frankie does that, you can clean it up."

He grinned and moved back so she could finish dinner. He grabbed the plates down and set them on her small table.

The puppy was chewing on a bone on his bed and behaving.

It was a nice quiet night that he never realized he was missing in his life.

He couldn't remember his parents ever behaving like he and Kelsey did. Then he felt bad his mother didn't get to feel what he was, however confusing the thoughts were to him.

"I'll clean it up later because it's going to happen," he said.

Two hours later, he walked into his home. Frankie hadn't made a mess in Kelsey's living room and he'd only made her shout out his name once.

She'd told him she'd hold him to it another night.

He had enough determination in him to do it. Maybe to prove to her that she wouldn't want anyone else but him.

Then he wondered why he was feeling that way.

He'd never been in his head the way he was lately.

Could be the fact that he was seeing his mother in his dreams again. And a man's voice with no body.

It was starting to get on his nerves. He was positive it might be his grandfather but had no clue what the guy's voice sounded like.

Rather than get ready for bed, he walked over and picked up the damn envelope once again, ran it through his hands, and set it down.

It was barely eight. He wouldn't go to bed until closer to ten, and be lucky if he was sleeping by midnight.

You'd think with as much as was going on in his life he'd be exhausted mentally, but it wasn't happening.

He grabbed his laptop and started to read more about the hotels he now owned half of. In two days he was going to meet with the Director of Operations that Kyle and his grandfather employed to oversee the security and direct oversight of the hotels.

His hotels now.

The man his grandfather picked out.

Maybe he could get a better handle on things then.

He read a few more things and made notes. He wasn't sure he liked the way security responded to calls in the hotels or the fact that there were a lot of calls in the past year. Little things. Noise complaints, missing items.

The response time seemed long in his eyes and he had to find out why.

When he shut his computer off at ten, he saw the envelope staring at him.

He picked it up again, this time ran his finger under the sealed part and ripped it open before he lost his nerve.

He opened it wide and dumped the contents on his desk.

There were more sealed envelopes in there of all sizes. He moved them around and saw they were numbered.

What the fuck!?

Was this some kind of mind game or something?

But there was one piece of paper by itself so he picked it up and read it.

If you're reading this, then I know you are ready to hear my side of the story, Donovan. I'm sorry I never got to meet the man you turned out to be. I'm sorry I wasn't there for your mother when she needed me the most. Just know she and I are together again and she is being taken care of the way she deserves. The way you would have wanted for her.

I ask that you give me a chance. That you open your eyes and your heart. Use that brain of yours and follow the information provided and you'll get your answers to the truth.

I'm at fault and will take the blame where it's deserved, but it wasn't always me or even all me. I tried more than once to come into your life. When you're ready, start opening things in order. There is a reason I've done it the way I have. If you're anything like me, you need to warm up to it all.

Just know one thing—everything I've done in my life was to leave for Lauren. Once that wasn't possible, it was all for you. You're all I've got left of her and I know you'll do her proud. Love, Barry, your grandfather.

He pushed the envelopes around until he found the first one. Maybe it was better to start this way. He wouldn't feel as if he was being swallowed whole with a shit ton of information he had to keep trying to process.

He ripped the side of the envelope open and dumped out some pictures into his hand. Five of them. Pictures of him through the years.

From birth to the day he graduated from the academy.

Was his grandfather there and his mother didn't know? Or did he get this picture from his mother?

Would his mother have kept this from him and his father?

Again, questions that had no answers, but it did make his mind race.

Yeah, the guy had to be telling the truth that he at least tried. Why else would he have these in his possession?