A Taste of Magic by Tracy Madison

either. So I wouldn’t be much help.”
    “It’s important to know before you start dating again,” Grandma said.
    I needed to get her out of there. Now. “I’m sure Nate has better things to do, Grandma.” I looked to Nate for confirmation.
    “Nope. You’re welcome to stay. I’m enjoying myself.”
    I frowned at him. “Don’t you have unpacking to do?” He couldn’t be completely done. I mean, there had to be boxes to be dealt with—somewhere.
    “Nope,” he said again. “All done.”
    “You moved in less than a week ago. You can’t be done.”
    “I am. I’m organized that way,” he teased.
    “Organization is a mighty fine trait in a man,” Grandma piped in.
    Nate nodded. “It is.”
    I was being double teamed.
    “Quit standing there with your mouth hanging open.” This came from Grandma Verda, who, honestly, appeared as comfortable as a cat on a sunny windowsill.
    I snapped my mouth shut. I wanted to learn how to flirt. And I wanted to flirt with Nate, but not with my grandmother in the room. “I’m going home. I’d like it if you came with me, Grandma, because I need to talk to you.”
    “Can I stay for dinner?” she asked.
    “Sure. What do you want?” Anything to get her out of that chair.
    “I don’t care. Nate, do you want to join us?”
    Had she just invited him to my place for dinner? My brain scanned the contents of my freezer. I thought there were a couple of frozen burritos left. I could feed him those and my decade-old wedding cake for dessert.
    Nate laughed but shook his head. “Thanks for the invite, Verda, but I work the late shift tonight. I should take a nap soon.”
    Okay, so he’d let me off the hook. Good. Except I was disappointed. So yeah, I guess I’d wanted to feed him a meal. Another time, perhaps. Without Grandma and when my questions were answered. Preferably before I committed any further culinary crimes.
    My mind went back to those muffins, and I relaxed slightly. After all, if they’d been magical, I’d have noticed something— wouldn’t I? Probably.
    But then Nate winked at me, and I felt it. Electricity. Attraction. Interest. Oh, hell. I stepped backward and bumped against the wall.
    “Maybe another time, Nate,” said Grandma Verda, pushing herself to her feet. “Be careful tonight. There are a lot of bad folks out there.”
    Nate opened the door. “I’ll be careful.” He raised a brow at me. (How did he do that? I couldn’t raise an eyebrow. I knew this because I’d tried.) “I even found someone trying to crawl through an apartment window the other night.”
    The brat. I grabbed my coat and mail. Scowling at him, I pulled Grandma’s sleeve. “Come on, Grandma, let’s go.”
    “I’m coming. What’s your hurry?” she complained. But at least she followed.
    “Thanks for taking care of my grandmother, Nate. I appreciate it,” I said. Grandma and I stepped into the hallway.
    “You’re welcome, Lizzie,” he replied.
    Ah, so he’d figured out one of my nicknames. Better that than any of the names my brothers used to call me.
    In my apartment, I deposited my stuff before making a quick meal of soup and sandwiches for me and Grandma. Afterward, we sat at my dining room table. I tried to think of how to ask about the possibility of my wreaking havoc with Marc’s sexual prowess on his honeymoon. Nothing I thought of sounded right. I mean, while it certainly had a cool factor, it was still just a little too out there for me to comprehend.
    But because I needed to understand, and because I knew deep inside that something had happened—was happening— I had to ask. “I want to talk about the birthday card you gave me.”
    Her blue eyes went opaque, and her gaze hit the wall behind me. “I don’t think so. I told you I wasn’t going to say anything more about it. At least, not yet.”
    “But you haven’t said anything at all.”
    “I said a lot. You just weren’t listening. Think about it, Lizzie-girl, and then trust your instincts.