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Collin stood above me, a quirk to his lips, his eyes glowing with laughter. “I haven't taken a woman on a landing in quite some time,” he said, the mirth but a ripple away from spilling over.

“And you'll not being doing so anytime soon, son.” Nan's voice came from the darkness like a splash of cold water. I'm not sure about Collin, but I felt like I was sixteen and I'd just been busted stealing my very first kiss.

“Nan, don't be ridiculous.” I pulled myself to my feet and looked out at her from just above Collin's shoulder. Collin was, once again, frozen stiff as a statue. I was beginning to think that he might actually be afraid of my little old Nan.

“There will be none of that fruity booty stuff.” She shook her finger at Collin, clearly scolding and disapproving.

“Relax, Nan. I wouldn't dream of--”

I didn't get to finish, as Collin's statement cut me off. “I apologize, ma'am,” he started. “I have no intent of infringing on your hospitality or disrespecting your granddaughter in your home.”

“Good thing too,” Nan told him with a nod of her head. “Now, if the two of you want to get cleaned up--separately, of course--we'll find out who is behind your troubles.”

“Absolutely,” I replied, taking Collin's hand and marching him up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Collin questioned, continually looking back down the stairs for a rampaging old Irish lady, shot gun ablazin'. “Didn't she just warn us about being alone together?”

“Absolutely.” I smiled, knowing mischief filled my eyes. “But she's going to be busy for a while.”

I had pulled him into the main bedroom where the master bath connected. Quickly rummaging through the closet I found an old pair of my grandpa's trousers, a button-up shirt and a cardigan. Tossing them all to Collin, I grabbed the closest robe off the closet hook and pulled my wet dress over my head. “You can always shower alone,” I told him as I stood before him in nothing more than my heels, undergarments and a wicked smile.

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