What Not to Were by Dakota Cassidy

Author:Dakota Cassidy [Cassidy, Dakota]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 25599203
Publisher: Dakota Cassidy
Published: 2014-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Calla handed Nash a Ziploc bag full of ice to put on his jaw while Greta gave Ezra the stink eye to keep him from rising from his place on the couch.

Nash shook his head, the damp ends of his hair curling up just above his collar. “I don’t get it.”

“But you got it, boy! And you deserved it,” Ezra growled.

Nash winced as he ran a hand over his bruised jaw. “Ezra, I already apologized. I honestly don’t remember your granddaughter. You’ve known me all my life, why would I lie?”

“You should dang well be at the open end of my shotgun, you cow-dung slinger!” Her grandfather shook a gnarled finger at Nash before Greta blew her whistle, making both Calla and Ezra wince.

“Knock it off right now, Ezra Allen! You heard what the boy said.”

Oh yeah. They’d all heard what he’d said. He recognized everyone but Calla. He knew every single person in the room except for her.

Nash looked to her, his eyes blank and devoid of any emotion other than confusion, cutting her to the quick. “So you and I…we…last night?”

“That’s right, Twinkle Toes,” Daphne sneered, her eyes narrowed. “Right after you waltzed Calla on out of the VFW hall and back to your place. You made the whoopdedoo. A night this entire town’s been waiting on for three solid months. We even had a raffle going. Beer for a year at Skeeter’s.”

“And chicken wings,” Calla muttered, her cheeks turning bright pink. “Don’t forget the chicken wings. A bucket.”

“An entire bucket?” Nash asked. “Did you really just say a whole bucket of chicken wings? I’ve never known Skeeter to be so generous.”

“Is beer for a year and barbecued fowl really the point here?” Calla asked, mortified her grandfather was hearing the intimate details of her night with Nash.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “So we’ve been dating for three months? Why can’t I even remember Ezra ever mentioning he had a granddaughter?”

The three women looked at each other. He genuinely appeared confused, his strong features riddled with concern. How had she been so totally wiped from his memory?

Calla’s heart sank right to her toes. What did you say to the man you’d spent three months of the best days of your life with when he didn’t remember them?

Did you call the doctor? Did witches even have neurologists?

“I don’t know,” Calla murmured.

He shook his head, dropping the Ziploc bag on the end table as he rose, his big frame casting a shadow over the sunlight pouring into the picture window.

Placing his hands on her shoulders as though she were his grandmother rather than his lover, Nash looked down at her. “Look, I came to apologize for the way I reacted. What I,” he lowered his voice, “what I said about your…it was insensitive and rude, and I was caught off guard, and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell you that.”

Oh, irony. His tone was so somber, so much more like that of the Nash she knew, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her tears at bay.

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