Grace (BWWM)

Chapter Eight

"Did you get everything you need?" I ask.

Grace grins then goes to the cooler again.

"Woman," I groan.

"Man," she tosses back, then laughs. "You're the one that asked me."

"I was joking, Gracie. That's more than enough ice cream."

"Six is a good start," she says in delight, her eyes dancing, and I see her resemblance to Nova. Ice cream is definitely one way to make her happy, especially if it has caramel, cookie dough, brownie bits—those sorts of things. She already has four of the same kind in our shopping basket.

"Six is enough to ruin your teeth," I say, taking the one she's grabbed out of her hand before she can place it into the basket I'm holding.

"Look at you Mr. Healthy," she teases.

"Aren't you the one that helped me be healthy?"

"That's right...now I'm reconsidering the six I already have," she says to herself. I can't help but roll my eyes. "Do you think I should drop four of them and grab one gelato instead?" And there's that second love of hers: gelato.

"How about you make a healthier ice cream with frozen bananas?"

"Yeah, I'll get that gelato." She ignores me, putting four tubs of ice cream back and going farther down the aisle to grab the Italian treat. I watch in amusement. She's healthy overall, but she does have her cheat days. She comes back, holding two containers and smiling. This time I frown.

"Not for me, for you." She holds out an orange sorbetto, my weakness.

"Is this some sort of a bribe?" I ask, my mouth turning up. She snorts.

"Please. If I wanted to bribe you, I would grab two."

I can't say that she's wrong. She places both desserts in the basket and we move to the aisle where the flour and spices are.

Shopping together has become a sort of tradition on our days off. Ty is in charge back at home and is watching over the others, meaning he's watching over Nova. Austin and Rose are fairly responsible—it's Nova who at times ends up getting herself into messy situations. She has good intentions but...yeah, no. She's mischievous. Nova isn't rebellious by any means, but she can just get into trouble without meaning to.

"Don't forget the garlic powder, I think Ty wanted more of that," I remind her.

"Oh right, thanks. I think Austin wanted cayenne pepper too actually." Austin practically lives at the house, and he's developed a love for cooking thanks to Grace.

"And Rose wanted more nutmeg."

"Right—you've got a good memory," she smirks, looking at me.

"For an old fart, yeah," I joke, but she frowns.

"An old fart?" she asks in confusion.

"Ah, yeah—like an old person."

"Oh. You're not old though," Grace says. "Older, but not old."

"Grace, I'm fifty-one. I'm old enough to be your uncle," I say on a laugh. "You could be my niece."

"You act like you're ancient, Joe," she says, shaking her head. "I don't even remember your age most of the time because you don't act it."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is. You're always on the move, and I never hear you complain about creaky bones or arthritis."

Now I really laugh.

"I'm fifty-one, not sixty."

"You can get arthritis in your fifties," she argues. "Some of my patients have it."