Seeing is Believing by Erin McCarthy

was a little startled by the vehemence in his voice. Oh, Lord, puberty had kicked in with a vengeance. “Yeah, I don’t think Mom is going to let that happen anytime soon.” Their mother didn’t like Jasmine, and there had been under-the-breath comments about sluts sniffing around. She wasn’t about to trust Logan and Jasmine in a dark room.
    It brought to mind the challenge of dating even at her age, because she did live with her parents. Until now, it had never particularly bothered her. Now it suddenly seemed to matter. If she did want to pursue a flirtation with Brady, how was she even going to do that? Once she came back home from Shelby’s the next day, they wouldn’t have any opportunities to be alone. Then when Brady left town, she would regret it.
    There was no guarantee that he’d want a repeat of the night before, but she certainly did. How many opportunities was she going to have for sex like that? Not a lot. She shouldn’t have done it in Shelby’s house. If she had her own place, she would at least have had a shot at knocking boots a second time. Without any ghosts around.
    Maybe she was still living at home because it was safe. Easy. Maybe it meant she didn’t have to date, to go out there and risk getting hurt. Or being lonely. She had never been alone, not since she was eight years old. Her stepfather had left her alone a lot, and it had scared her to the point she’d made up an imaginary friend to keep her company. Anita had moved to the farm with her but eventually had stopped turning up altogether.
    But the fear of being alone was still there, deep down, in a dark, ugly spot.
    She wasn’t a kid anymore, and she wasn’t fragile. But if she didn’t move on, she couldn’t really expect her parents to treat her any differently.
    She didn’t want to live her life making decisions based on fear. She wanted to be in control.
    Maybe she hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before, what with Rachel staring at her half the night and memories of Brady’s body over hers clouding her thoughts, and her judgment was impaired, but as the smell of chicken waste clogged her nostrils, she felt a swell of conviction. “You know, Logan, maybe it is time for me to get my own place.”
    * * *
    BRADY’S GRANDMOTHER WAS EXACTLY WHERE HE would have expected her to be on a Saturday afternoon. She was on her front porch, rocking, a baseball cap on her head. Only whereas ten years ago she would have had a book in her hand, now she had an e-reader in front of her. As he came up the walk, she glanced up.
    “Heard you were in town,” was her dry greeting. “About goddamn time.”
    “Hi, Gran. It’s good to see you, too. How are you doing?”
    “Fine.” She assessed him. “Well, your hair’s not blue. That’s a start.”
    Geez, you dyed your hair as a rebellious teen and you never lived it down. “My hair hasn’t been blue in fifteen years.” Though he couldn’t be too annoyed. Seeing her face, he suddenly felt his gut clench. He had missed her. She looked older than he remembered. Her skin was thin and she’d lost weight. Her feet were a road map of blue veins and her hand shook a little. It shocked him. Scared him. Had a flood of guilt rushing over him.
    “Thank God—that’s all I can say about that.” She patted the chair next to her. “Remember when you had that Mohawk? Your hair was jacked all the way to Jesus.”
    That made Brady grin. “It was a statement.”
    “You can call it what you want. Come sit down and tell me what’s going on in your world.” She held up the e-reader. “I’m just reading a novel I downloaded by that guy who writes those smaltzy books. It’s crap, but at least on this thing I can make the print huge. Easier on the old eyes.”
    Brady kissed her on the cheek and sank into the chair next to her. “You think every book you read is crap, but you keep reading books. So I’m not sure I believe you.”
    “Smart-ass.”
    The weight of her stare fell on him hard.