“Well, if it isn’t my favorite constellation!” A familiar voice floated from the open kitchen window next to the front porch. “Hold your horses and let me get this oven closed!”

“Yes, Gramma.” The grin spread across Orion’s face before he could stop himself. Knowing her, this was his favorite—real pumpkin pie. None of that store-bought stuff in her house.

His grandma’s farmhouse looked smaller than it had even five years ago. Even the plants were the same—the foxglove by the door, a rosebush in a circular garden, a path from the driveway to the door lined with pansies. It was all utterly the same, but for the first time, he saw it with new eyes.

Only now, Orion felt oversized on the porch, especially when the door opened and she beamed at him, holding her arms out.

“My boy came back home!”

Orion swept his grandma up in as tight a hug as he dared given her condition, which was what brought him here. “Gramma. It’s so good to see you.”

“I’ve been telling you for years to visit. I go and bust a hip and suddenly you’re all over me?” She pulled back and smacked his cheek lightly, then the other one. “Oh, you look so good.”

“I’m sorry, Gramma. I meant to visit, you know that.”

“Oh, I know. The big city swept you up. You have so much to tell me… over your very favorite.”

“Pumpkin pie?” He couldn’t hide his hopeful expression.

“You cheated. Were you peeking in my window? Naughty boy.” She pushed him toward the table. “Go on, sit down.”

“I used my nose,” Orion protested. “No, no. You should be the one sitting!”

“Don’t make me use that cane the doctor made me get.” She was casually propping herself up against the edge of the kitchen counter, though.

Orion laughed. She didn’t have the heart to squish a fly—except slugs destroying her carefully-tended rows of lettuce. No quarter for those bastards, she’d say. “I bet you haven’t been using it. I bet it’s still in its original packaging and you don’t even know where it is.” He steered her to a chair, giving her an arm to lean on.

“No respect for the elderly these days.” She clicked her tongue at him, but she visibly relaxed when she was sitting comfortably.

“None. My manners disappeared in the big city,” Orion said solemnly, shaking his head. “You’re having some, too, right?”

“You’d better believe it. I didn’t reach seventy-nine to say no to pie, young man.”

“Right you are, ma’am.” Orion found the pie cutter and saluted her with it as he carefully lifted pieces of the fresh pie onto the waiting plates. After distributing the delicate forks between the plates, he carried both back to the table.

Iced tea already sat in a pitcher on the table, and his mouth watered at the sight. “Oh, my! Gramma. Did you make iced tea, too?” Nothing compared to his grandma’s top-secret recipe.

“Only the best to welcome you home. Oh, Orion,” she sighed. She’d picked up the fork but just stared across the table at him.

Orion took a moment to look at her, too—really look. She was older now, more weathered. The rest of the family had taken over most of the heavy farming work, relegating her to running the produce roadside stall. It was hot work in the summer, but with a tent for shade, ice water, and cold bandanas, she always insisted she was fine.

Until she’d gotten “just a bit overheated,” she insisted, and slipped and fractured a hip.

“How have you been, Gramma?”

“Bored out of my skull.” Just what he’d expected. The doctor had ordered bedrest, but they all knew how likely that was. “Every time I try to make myself useful, someone tells me to just be a dear and sit inside, twiddling my thumbs.”

“That’s gotta be tough,” he agreed seriously.

“And they’ve convinced you to take a few months off to look after me, haven’t they?” She eyed him.

Orion jumped slightly at that expression. It was her no-nonsense look, born of raising four troublemaking boys, and then Orion himself. “Yes,” he answered obediently. “But I wanted a break for a few months, anyway.”

“Is work getting stressful?”

Orion rubbed his chin. “You could say that.” He winced, trying to push the memory aside. The taste of pumpkin and crust melting across his tongue did the trick. “Mmm!”

“I haven’t lost my touch, then.”

“No,” he mumbled around the mouthful, then covered his mouth and swallowed at the look she gave him. “Sorry. I mean, no, you haven’t. It’s amazing.”

His grandma had raised him after his parents, both environmental scientists, hadn’t come home from a desert research trip. At seven, the impact hadn’t settled in until a few years later.

It was a long-healed wound for him now. Accidents happened at the whim of nature. But as a private security contractor—or a bodyguard, most people called him—he could keep deliberate harm from robbing any other kids of their parents, just because fame made some people lose their senses.

Most of the time.

All he could do was his best, he reminded himself, his heart sinking. The timing of his grandma’s accident had worked out well. He’d badly needed a break from work.

He hadn’t been at fault for the breakdown in communication that led to an unauthorized trespasser waiting for his last client when they walked into the penthouse suite after the concert.

He’d defused the situation. Arrests had been made. Nobody had gotten hurt. But it stung his pride. Boy, did it ever. And it wasn’t good for the company’s image.

He counted his blessings that instead of firing him, his boss had given him clearance for some time off and retraining.

“I thought it was good to take some time off,” was all Orion said. “And I get to see you.”

“And coddle me,” Gramma complained as she polished off her pie at record speed. Somehow, she didn’t spill a crumb on herself in the process. Man. Southern ladies—especially grandmothers. Orion would never understand the life skills they seemed to have down to an art.

“A bit of that,” Orion grinned. “If it helps, think of me as the devoted manservant. I’m here to run errands, clean the house, keep you entertained…”

“At least they sent my favorite grandson, but there’s one flaw with that plan.”

“What’s that?”

“I can’t ogle my own grandson. They could have thought of that when they were conspiring to bubble wrap me from life,” Gramma complained. “At least they could have sent a hot shirtless pool boy. Like the paramedic who came when I fell. Oh, he was a looker. Chip, I think?”

Orion chuckled. “Sorry, Grams. I think you need a pool to get a pool boy.”

“I wonder if I could call that a medical necessity.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “For physiotherapy purposes. I’ve been meaning to tear out the old shed down by the orchard anyway.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Orion laughed.

“And how about your love life? You haven’t brought anyone home to meet me, you know.”

“No luck.” Orion rolled his eyes. “It’s hard to meet people between work and… well, work. Especially in the city. It’s not like it is here.”

“Oh, we’ll see what we can do,” Gramma said, a thoughtful gleam in her eyes. “Now, after your snack, I’ll introduce you to that lovely boy running our stand now.”

Uh oh. She was supposed to be his project, not the other way around. He wasn’t staying long enough for friends, let alone girlfriends.

Orion flushed and rose to his feet to take care of the dishes. He could see her flicking through her mental Rolodex—she still had a real one, too—of pretty young girls his age.

If it was anything like the big city, every one of them would turn out to be nice to look at, slightly uncomfortable to hold, and downright squirm-inducing to kiss, though.

“No, no,” Orion waved a hand. “I’ll walk up there myself. You know your orders. Bedrest.”

Gramma sighed at him but smiled. “If I have to have a keeper, I’m glad it’s you. It’s so good to see you again.”

“You, too, Gramma. I’m glad I came.” Orion put the last dish in the rack to dry, then wiped off his hands and headed back to the table. “I’ll help you to the couch and we’ll find a good show for you.”

“Oh, daytime TV,” she scoffed.

“Ah! I have a secret. It’s called Netflix.” Orion winked. “I’ll get it set up for you before I go. You can choose what you want to see.”

“Anything?”

He eyed her and laughed. “Except porn.”

“Damn,” she sighed and grinned back at him as he eased her onto the couch. “How about the Chippendales?”

“I’ll… leave you to search that out yourself.” Orion laughed and headed for the TV to set it up.

Dating here in Hidden Creek was a small pool, mostly comprised of girls—now women—Orion had briefly dated in high school before dumping. His love life was a series of awkward attempts to get over himself, quickly followed by regrets and cutting his losses before he hurt anyone’s feelings.

Best to focus on something he could control—his career, and now his family. He’d stopped dating entirely over the last year or so, increasingly convinced that the more he tried, the more feelings he’d hurt. Easier not to risk any of it.

But if it kept Gramma off her feet, he’d let her orchestrate meetings with whoever she wanted, even if he was skeptical about the whole idea.

The One hadn’t been here before, and so far, she wasn’t out there in a much bigger city. Why would he find love back here the second time around? No way.

Orion had a career which took him across the state and sometimes the country. He wasn’t putting down more roots than he already had in Hidden Creek. He was here to do a job and leave again.

That was all.