“I heard that!” the older woman, who could only be Nana Ruby, shouted.
“Then how about after the show?” Noah asked.
“After the show, I’m goin’ to bed,” Nana Ruby called out from behind Gram. “And let those poor kids in, Maude. They’ve been drivin’ all day.”
Gram ushered them into the spacious room with two beds. As soon as she caught sight of Nana Ruby, sitting on the edge of one of the beds in a sparkly shirt and a pair of jeans, Libby’s mouth dropped open.
“I told you this shirt was a bad idea,” Nana Ruby grumbled, getting to her orthopedic-shoe-covered feet.
“You keep your shirt on, Ruby O’Donnell,” Gram said. Then she burst out laughing at her pun.
“You look amazing, Nana Ruby. Honestly,” Libby assured her. “I’m just not used to seeing you look so . . . colorful. And sparkly.”
“Maude said if we went to see The Crooners, I had to wear this shirt.” The gray-headed woman scowled as she sat back down. “At least only three people know me here.”
“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” Gram said with an over-exaggerated wink. “Ain’t that right, kids?”
Noah laughed. “I promise not to spread word of your exploits once we get home, Gram.”
Her eyes widened. “What? I was counting on it. Especially if I get you drunk enough to drop your drawers. I bet your hiney’s as firm as the sculptures all over this hotel.” She turned her sharp gaze to Libby. “Am I right?”
Libby gasped in shock and sent an embarrassed look to Noah, but her mind was now preoccupied with wondering how firm his ass actually was. No. Don’t go there. “I wouldn’t know, Gram. Noah and I aren’t like that.”
She shook her head, her lips pursed. “Well that’s a damn shame.”
Libby’s face flushed and she forced herself not to glance at Noah to gauge his reaction. He moved up beside her, and she was very aware of the warmth and nearness of him when he settled a hand on her shoulder. “You said you brought Libby more than her license?”
“Yeah.” Gram picked up a black carry-on bag and set it on the bed. “I went to your place with Megan to pick up some clothes.”
“Oh, God,” Libby mumbled under her breath. “Please tell me Megan picked them out.”
Gram laughed as she patted the bag. “I took some liberties.”
Noah’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “I can’t wait to see what you chose, Gram.”
She started to unzip the bag and then pointed at him. “You wait in the bathroom.”
“Why?” He sounded defensive, like a chastised little boy. Libby found it adorable.
“This isn’t for your eyes.” She pointed to the door. “Go.”
Noah waggled his eyebrows, pleading with Libby to let him stay, but she shrugged and smirked. “You heard the woman.” Ordinarily, nothing in that bag could have embarrassed Libby, but with her out-of-control hormones or whatever was going on with her, she’d rather not have Noah around if Gram was about to pull out something risqué.
Noah grumbled about missing all the fun, but he winked at Libby as he shut the door. “Make sure to talk really loud so I don’t miss anything,” he said from the bathroom.
Gram lifted the lid and Libby sighed with relief when she saw perfectly ordinary items—rolled jeans, some rolled T-shirts, a cosmetic bag. It was far neater than she usually packed. It had Megan’s touch all over it. “Megan grabbed your makeup bag and some shampoo and shower gel.”
Libby broke into a huge grin. She didn’t usually mind going so au naturel, but she had a sudden urge to look her best for Noah tonight, which would require her full arsenal. “What else did you bring?”
Gram gave her a mischievous glance as she pulled out several slinky cocktail dresses. “For you to go out with Noah.”
Libby’s pulse picked up at the thought of wearing the black beaded dress with its neckline that plunged farther south than an Antarctic expedition. “Gram.”
Nana Ruby shook her head and mumbled something about pneumonia under her breath.
Next Gram pulled out the lingerie Megan and Blair had given her for her honeymoon—a black lace bra and panties and an ivory babydoll with a lace bra, a sheer lace skirt, and matching G-string panties. They were French—and quite expensive. But she reminded herself that she had no business wearing them here in Vegas, even if the thought of Noah’s reaction made her skin flush.
She had to pull herself together.
She feigned a sigh of impatience. “In case you’ve turned senile since Saturday—and I know you haven’t—you know as well as I do that this is a road trip, not a honeymoon.”
The older woman shrugged and tossed a pair of red lacy panties onto the bed. “Then there’s this.” She held up a sexy, silver, barely-there negligee.
“Um . . . Gram. That’s not mine.”
She winked. “I know. It was my wedding gift to you. I hope you don’t mind that I unwrapped it and put it in with your things.”
“Since there was technically no wedding, you don’t need to give me anything at all. You should return it.”
Gram waved her off. “You need this.”
Need it? No. That nightie would get her into trouble faster than she could charge up her Visa in an art store. “I’ve sworn off men for the next year. I won’t be needing that anytime soon.”