Page 102 of Chasing Olivia (Trace + Olivia 2)

“It’s nothing.” I opened the baggie full of deli meat and started pulling out slices of turkey.

“You can tell me, Olivia. I know you don’t know me that well. But I’m a good listener and I am your grandma,” she smiled kindly.

“Well, I once told Trace that I wanted to write a book. He’s afraid that if I start teaching I’ll never do it.”

“Is he right?” She began laying slices of cheese on the bread.

“Probably,” I admitted.

“If you want to write one, why don’t you?”

“I don’t know what I’d even write about,” I groaned.

“Why do you have to have a story mapped out? Why can’t you sit down and just…do it?”

Trace had said basically the same thing the first time I’d ever mentioned writing a book. He’d brought it up several times over the years, especially in the months before I graduated. I think he was as concerned about me being stuck doing a job I hated, as I was about him.

She looked at me, waiting for me to respond.

“I don’t think I could do that,” I finally said.

“How do you know if you haven’t tried?”

She had me there.

“Maybe one day,” I shrugged as she put the food items away. I helped her set the plates on the table and she grabbed five water bottles.

“Lunch is ready!” She called and the three men joined us.

Trace took the seat across from me, letting my grandma and grandpa sit beside me.

“After we eat, Trace, is going to drive me around in that Camaro,” my grandpa announced proudly. “That’s a nice car.”

Trace chuckled. “I’m glad you approve, sir.”

; “Dougie. Not sir. Sir sounds like…well, I better not say what it reminds me of,” my grandpa chortled.

My cheeks flamed and Trace snorted, turning it into a cough to cover himself.

“What do you do for a living, Trace?” My grandma asked.

“I’m currently working as a mechanic, but my grandpa is grooming me to take over the family business,” he replied.

“And what exactly is your family’s business?”

Oh, God. This was getting embarrassing. These people may have been my grandparents, but they didn’t know me, and they were already giving my boyfriend the third degree. Husband! Not boyfriend! Hopefully, in a few days, I’d be used to the fact that Trace was now my husband. It still seemed surreal. We’d gotten engaged and then married so quickly that none of it had quite sunk in yet…maybe it never would.

“We make ammunition,” he answered.

“Ammunition,” my grandpa mused. “You hunt?”

“Some. Not as much as I used to,” Trace shrugged.

“I like you,” my grandpa announced, enthusiastically pointing a finger at Trace. Turning to me, he added, “You did good.”

I smiled over at Trace, my body flooding with warmth. “I think so too.”