Deadly Proposal(66)
Sophie was horrified. “We’re staying at your parents’ house?”
“Um, yeah,” Grady replied. “Barker Creek doesn’t have any hotels.”
“Oh, no,” Sophie said. “This is horrible.”
“It’s going to be fine.”
“I might cry,” Sophie warned him.
“You’ll be fine. I promise, I won’t let my parents terrorize you. They’re going to be curious, probably ask you a bunch of questions, but I’ll make sure they keep the water-boarding to a minimum.”
“Oh, I’m totally going to cry.”
THREE HOURS later, Grady pulled his truck into the driveway of a small, two-story house on a corner lot. The house was nothing special, white vinyl siding with yellow trim, but in her mind, Sophie could picture the young Hardy boys playing in the double-lot yard. She could almost imagine smaller versions of Mandy and Ally joining them, ribbons and braids flying through the air.
“It’s not like the house you grew up in,” Grady said. “But it’s home.”
“It’s great,” Sophie said. “This feels like a home. I bet you guys used to play football in the side lot, didn’t you?”
“And baseball,” Grady agreed. “And soccer. Mandy and Ally taught themselves how to do cartwheels out there.”
“It’s like a Norman Rockwell painting.”
“Come on, sugar,” Grady said, tugging on her hand. “Let’s go and meet the folks.”
Sophie found herself clinging to Grady’s hand once they were on the front porch of the house. Grady gave her a quick, steadying kiss, and then he pushed through the front door.
The woman who greeted them in the foyer was short. She had the same dark hair her children boasted, but her eyes were green and kind. Her hair was clipped above her shoulders and shot through with a few streaks of gray, but she was well put together. She was wearing an apron, wiping her hands on it when she caught sight of her middle son.
“Grady Hardy, you are in so much trouble for staying away for so long,” she announced, her hands on her hips. Ally looked just like her when she did the same thing, Sophie realized.
“Sorry, Mom,” Grady said, lowering his head sheepishly. “It’s been a busy couple of months.”
The woman’s face softened as she pulled her son down so she could give him a hug. “Oh, who am I kidding? You’re forgiven.”
After suffering through a smothering hug, Grady managed to put some distance between himself and his mother. “Mom, this is Sophie. Sophie, this is my mom.”
“Mrs. Hardy, it’s so good to meet you,” Sophie said, extending her hand.
“Call me Rose, dear,” the woman said, ignoring her hand and pulling Sophie in for a hard hug. “You’re so pretty. The pictures Ally emailed me don’t do you justice.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “Ally emailed you pictures?”
“Ally is gossipy, dear,” Rose said, patting Sophie on the arm. “She sends me new pictures every week. I know what you and Emma both look like. In fact, I feel like I know you already. Ally tells me everything.”
“Oh. That’s … .”
“Invasive,” Grady supplied.
“That’s a little sister’s duty,” Rose replied. “Besides, Mandy is the one who emailed me pictures of that boy, Jake, who Ally has her eye on. So Ally is getting a little taste of her own medicine. She probably won’t think it’s so funny anymore.”
Grady snorted. “Does Ally know about that?”
“I don’t think so,” Rose said, leading them into the kitchen so she could watch over the pasta sauce she was making. “I hope you like Italian, dear,” Rose said. “I’m making Grady’s favorite, homemade spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Yum,” Grady said, rubbing his stomach. “I’ve missed your cooking.”
“Sophie doesn’t cook?”
Sophie’s face reddened. “I … .”
“She doesn’t cook,” Grady said. “She’s a whiz with a takeout menu.”
Rose smacked the back of Grady’s head lightly. “You like Italian, dear, don’t you?”
“I love Italian,” Sophie said. “It sounds great.”
“Oh, that’s right, you were raised by a mobster,” Rose said. “You probably ate Italian a lot when you were a kid.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow, glancing at Grady worriedly.
“Ally told you that, too?” Grady asked, pulling out a chair so Sophie could sit at the small table in the center of the room. “I’m going to kill her.”