The Workaholic and the Realist (New Hampshire Bears #2) by Mary Smith

a serious long-term relationship.”
    “Do you ever cheat on wine?” He narrowed his eyes in a flirtatious manner, and I knew where this conversation had gone and quickly.
    “I’ve been known to have a wandering eye from time-to-time.” I winked, lifting my glass to my lips.
    “I like it when girls are open to anything.” He grinned.
    I hadn’t expected him to say that. “I’m not sure I said I was open to everything.”
    “So, you don’t like to be spanked and yell out daddy?”
    What the fuck? I was momentarily stunned.
    “Dude, this is a lady you’re speaking to, and she’s the type to spank you till you call her mommy.”
    I whipped around so fast I became unbalanced on the bar stool. “Keaton?”
    “Go away.” Keaton shooed Gregory away, and he quickly left.
    “What are you doing here?”
    “What? No, thank you.” He kissed my cheek and then leaned against the bar.
    “I had it handled.”
    Keaton smiled. “You appeared to be a deer looking into headlights.”
    “Did not,” I mumbled before taking another drink.
    “It’s okay, honey-bunny, I saved you,” he joked.
    “Ass.”
    This time he laughed. I loved seeing the brightness in his face when he did.
    “You didn’t tell me why you were here.”
    Keaton waved his hand around nonchalantly. “I’m here for the décor.”
    I giggled. “Another lie, puppy?”
    “You got me. Actually, I was heading to your place, but I stopped here to grab a beer.”
    “My place? Why?” I did want him to come over, but tried not to be excited about it.
    “Needed someone to talk to.” His faced turned sad.
    I rubbed his bicep. “What is it? Are you okay?”
    “Maybe. Maybe not.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Ease up on the cryptic answers. Just spit it out.”
    Keaton motioned for the bartender and ordered another round for us. “Okay, you win.”
    “Tell me.” I downed the rest of my wine as the next round appeared. Keaton’s serious expression made me realize he truly needed a friend, whatever he wanted to talk about. I’d be there for him.
    “Felicia moved in with Grams this week.”
    “Wow.” I felt my eyes grow wide. “What are you going to do?”
    Keaton stifled a laugh. “You don’t know Grams. When I told her what to do she almost turned me into Van Gogh.”
    “Huh?”
    “She jerked on my ear so hard, she damn near ripped it off.”
    The laugh bubbled up quickly. I saw how short Grams was compared to Keaton, but in my mind, I could clearly see her yanking on him.
    “She’s a tough old bird.”
    “But you still worry about her.” I touched his forearm this time.
    “Especially, now. Felicia is going to work Grams over until she’s either a) broke or b) dead.”
    “Keaton.” I slightly winced at the word dead . “Is she that horrible?” I knew I’d only seen her that one time, but she was his mother.
    He nodded. “And then some.”
    “I know she left you, but why does Gram help her?”
    “Felicia uses her kindness to her advantage. I can see her cleaning Grams out of everything.”
    “You said that already. What does Grams say?”
    “She’s family,” he took a deep breath. “It’s what she always says.”
    “But you don’t feel that way?”
    He shook his head.
    “You don’t think of her as family at all?”
    He shook his head again. “Grams told me she’s changed.”
    “And you don’t believe she’s changed?”
    “Absolutely not. She’s a junkie, drunk, and a con artist. Nothing else.”
    “People do change,” I reminded him.
    “Not her.” He took a long swig of beer and stared ahead.
    “Do you trust your grandmother?” I tried a different approach that might work on him.
    “I trust her with my life.”
    “And she wouldn’t lie to you, right?”
    “No, not per se.”
    “Then if she told you your mother changed, why not believe her? Has she said it in the past?”
    Keaton picked at the label on his dark brown bottle. “Usually, she would say Felicia was sick and not much else.”
    “Now, she’s