Sultry Escapes: Waking Up to You. Leslie Kelly
doing here?” He cast a glance at Oliver. “I told you not to worry anybody.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, bending to kiss his forehead. She tenderly brushed away a long strand of silvery hair—used in the ultimate old-man comb-over to cover the sizable bald spot on his pate. “Mom was going to come herself…”
“Ridiculous! She needs to stay in Florida and take care of your stodgy old fart of a father.”
Seeing the smile on Candace’s face, and the matching one on Buddy’s, Oliver could only think theirs was a closeknit family and the joke was an old one. Buddy had to be at least eighty, but he was usually as peppy and energetic as a much-younger man.
“Well, that’s why I came, to scope out the situation and see if she needed to visit.”
“She doesn’t!”
“You certainly seem peppy.”
“I’m feeling no pain,” he admitted. “You really don’t have to stay.”
“Of course I’m staying. I’ll be here when you get out of surgery, and I’ll be at your house waiting for you when you come home.”
He didn’t argue anymore, looking visibly touched and showing just the faintest hint of vulnerability. Buddy might not want to be a bother, but when it came to being in the hospital, nothing beat having family nearby. The old man hadn’t said anything about being nervous about his operation, but considering he hadn’t been expecting any such thing twenty-four hours ago, he had to be worried about it.
“I think I’ll give you two some time alone,” Oliver said. “Buddy, I just wanted to say I’m here and hope everything goes well with the surgery. I have no doubt you’ll be kicking up clods of dirt and rocks in no time.”
His boss nodded. “Thank you for bringing my grandbaby to see me.”
“Not a problem.”
“You’ll make sure she’s okay out there at the house? It’s awfully lonely and desolate for a helpless young girl on her own.”
He saw Candace roll her eyes at the description. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “I certainly don’t need a babysitter.”
“Humor an old man. Promise me you’ll let Oliver look after you.”
She glanced back and forth between them, her mouth opening and snapping closed. Obviously she didn’t want to promise any such thing. However, she didn’t want to upset her elderly relative, either. Finally, she hedged. “If I need anything, I’ll be sure to ask him.”
That could range from needing a roll of toilet paper to needing a spider killed. What it wasn’t was an agreement to let him watch over her.
“Promise?”
She obviously didn’t like being pressed, and mumbled, “If there’s a dire emergency, Oliver is the first one I’ll call.”
Buddy didn’t appear thrilled by the concession, but apparently knew he’d pushed hard enough. “All right.” Then he extended his hand. “Thank you again, Oliver.”
Oliver walked over for a handshake, but when he tried to end it, the old man didn’t let go. Instead, Buddy clutched his hand, while also holding his granddaughter’s.
“So, you two are getting along okay?”
If Cupid had ever suffered from a broken hip, he’d probably have taken a day off. Not so for Buddy Frye.
“Grandpa,” she said warningly.
“She’s already tried to kill me,” Oliver said, caught off guard.
Buddy snickered. Obviously the pain meds were still in fine working order. Eyeing Candace, he said, “Did I ever tell you about what your grandma did to me once, back when we were dating? She shoved me in front of a moving car.”
“No, you didn’t tell me, and I don’t believe it,” she replied a little primly. Then she gave Oliver a look that said, Don’t you dare make fun of me about this.
“Yep. She said I was smiling too much at a waitress, so she pushed me into the street. My, that woman loved me.”
“She had a funny way of showing it,” Oliver couldn’t help mumbling. “Imagine if you’d ever really flirted with someone. You’d have been nose-to-nose with a freight train.”
Candace obviously heard and her lips quirked.
“I just want you two to get along,” Buddy said, settling deeper into his bed and arranging his covers over himself. He wasn’t looking at either of them. “I think you probably have a lot in common.”
“I doubt it,” Candace said, her tone saying the subject was at an end.
Oliver didn’t back her up, or offer her a reassuring glance. He couldn’t deny he found the idea of her grandfather playing matchmaker pretty cute, even if the very idea that she’d need him to was ridiculous. The woman was smart, beautiful, funny…she wouldn’t need an elderly relative fixing her up. He suspected she could have just about any man she wanted.
She wants a stupid, foreign one, he reminded himself. Not you.
Which was just as well. He’d already decided he was not getting personally involved with Candace Reid. So the less time he spent in her company, the better.
She could take care of herself, of that he had no doubt. He would remember Buddy’s request and help her in the case of a major emergency, like if the pipes burst or a robber turned up. But as far as spiders and toilet paper went, she was on her own, and he was steering clear.
It was better that way…for both of them.
IT WAS THE size of a Volkswagen.
Big, hairy, with a million eyes and fuzzy spiked legs and probably a sac full of poison hidden on its bulbous body.
Spiders. God, she hated spiders. Especially spiders who were blocking the only exit from the kitchen, where she stood, wearing a filmy, short little bathrobe, freezing her butt off because she’d come down to put coffee on right after she’d gotten out of the cold-as-ice shower.
“Go away,” she ordered in a quivery voice.
The spider ignored her and remained planted right in her path. Beady little pinpoint eyes stared up at her, red and angry—or maybe not, but they looked that way to her—and she knew if he had a mouth, it was smirking.
She edged backward toward the stove, thankful she’d glanced down before walking out of the kitchen, because if she’d placed her bare foot on that furry little beast, she would have screamed loud enough for Tommy to hear her back in L.A. Besides, the little creature looked big enough to have flung her off rather than being smashed flat.
Candace wasn’t scared by much. Snakes didn’t bother her; she had been skydiving so she wasn’t afraid of heights. She’d even bungee jumped off a bridge in Mexico once. She’d stared down more than her fair share of grubby dudes with cheesy come-on lines on the street.
But bugs? Spiders in particular?
The little bastards terrified her.
“Candace?” a voice called. A voice that was familiar, even though she hadn’t talked to him much in the past few days.
She and Oliver, as if by unspoken agreement, had spent little time together since the morning her grandfather had tried to fix them up. When they’d left late that day, after visiting with Grandpa in the recovery room, Oliver had brought her to a car rental place so she could get her own vehicle. She didn’t want to have to rely on him to run her back and forth to the hospital, which was where she spent most of her time. They ran into each other there on occasion, had grabbed