Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
FINN
Hours later, I was spackling a bit of plaster by the ceiling, Drew and Nash having just slipped out to wheel a few salvage loads from the back room out to the dumpster. I’d managed to stop checking the clock a while earlier, but that hadn’t made the time go by any faster, wondering when Willow would get over her anger and stop by.
I heard her before I saw her, the click of her heels on the sidewalk outside drawing my gaze toward the opened door where she walked through, taking a tentative step into my building.
And damn. Damn .
While I would always prefer the more casual Willow—the girl who was at home in paint-stained tank tops and cutoffs—I couldn’t deny how well she pulled off a suit. The tight, mid-thigh length skirt clung to the tantalizing curves of her hips…hips I’d had under my hands mere days before. She wore a bright red sleeveless top tucked into the waistband of her skirt, probably having shed her jacket in her office in deference to the heat.
Her dark hair hung down her back, loose waves framing her face. Cool detachment was written along every inch of her body and a fake smile on her pouty pink lips. At least, until she took in the space around me, no doubt a mess in her eyes, and realized no one else was around. It was just the two of us. That fake smile dropped like an anchor.
“Hey, Willowtree.” I climbed down from the ladder, setting the plastering trowel and mud pan on the old counter.
“Stop calling me that,” she snapped. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, like she was trying to get herself under control. Trying to rein in that temper that only intrigued me. When she opened her eyes again, she looked anywhere but at me, taking in the place that was in utter disarray. “Where’re Drew and Nash?”
“Around.” I hated how my gut twisted when she asked about the other guys, one of whom was my brother.
But Nash…shit, for all I knew, the two of them had dated at some point. It wouldn’t be so farfetched, considering the small pool of available people our age in Havenbrook. Nash was a couple years younger than her, having graduated with the youngest of the Haven girls, Natalie. But that didn’t mean anything.
“Why, you need them for somethin’?” I asked.
As if I could wipe the make-believe images of Willow and Nash together from my mind, I plucked the T-shirt I’d tucked into the waistband of my shorts and used it to wipe the sweat from my brow. That did fuck-all to get thoughts of Willow with some other guy from my mind—which was dumb as hell because of course she’d been with other men while I’d been gone. It’d been ten years. And besides being stunning as hell, she was smart. Funny. Kind. Generous. She was everything any sane man would want by his side.
And I had just walked away.
I’d kicked myself daily for that over the past ten years, but I’d stayed away. I’d managed to keep myself from running back because, while the circumstances surrounding my departure hadn’t left me much choice in the matter, I’d been sure I’d done it for her benefit. That me being gone had allowed Willow to become the person she was meant to become instead of being weighed down by me.
Shaking those thoughts from my head, I ran my shirt down my chest to wipe away the sheen of sweat and glanced back at Willow, realizing her eyes were trained on my hand as it brushed the cloth across my abs.
“Willow?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“Why’d you want to know?”
“What?” she asked, snapping her eyes to mine. “Oh, just wondering.”
She averted her gaze and crossed her arms over her chest, but not before I caught sight of her nipples straining at the material of her shirt, dark shadows beneath all that red. And since it sure as shit wasn’t cool in here, that meant one thing.
Willow was still attracted to me.
And it might make me an asshole, but if that was what I had to use to get her to come around to talking to me, so be it. I’d pull out every obnoxious play in the book if she’d just tell me about her life.
She cleared her throat and thrust the paperwork in my direction. “I just need your signature on these. You missed a couple pages last week.”
I stepped closer to her, trying hard not to smirk when she stiffened. Then I brushed my fingers over hers as I pulled the papers from her hand. “Happy to give you anything you need, Willowtree.”
Her nostrils flared, the anger she was suppressing clearly written over every inch of her. But instead of chastising me for using her nickname from when we’d been teenagers, or for lacing my statement with an innuendo I was certain she’d picked up on, she just squared her shoulders. “You can go ahead and drop ’em by later today.”
“Much as I’d love to visit you in your office again, I’m afraid I’m not fit for public viewing for the foreseeable future.” I gestured to myself, the sheen of sweat I’d wiped away already replaced thanks to the heat.
Her eyes dropped to once again take in my appearance, a flush working its way up her neck and to her cheeks. Just as quickly as her eyes had dropped to observe me, they darted off to the side, staring instead out the grimy front windows. “I’m sure you can find another shirt.”
That much was true, especially since Drew and I were staying upstairs in the apartment for the time being.
“C’mon, it’ll just take a minute,” I said. “I can sign them now. I was gonna break for lunch anyway.” I strode toward the stairs at the back of the space, intent on heading up to slap together a sandwich. I looked back at her and tilted my head in the direction of the stairway. “If you come on up, I’ll share with you. I’ll even make it for you—peanut butter and banana sandwiches, your favorite.”
It was only a brief moment where her expression changed, but I saw it—saw how her eyes softened the tiniest bit at the mention of her old favorite. The night before I’d left, we’d had a picnic in her tree house, one I’d prepared for her myself. Other girls might’ve wanted candlelight and fancy restaurants, but Willow had always been satisfied with anything, so long as we’d been together.
The memory was bittersweet, tugging at my chest. I watched as the same emotions played out over her face. That softness in her eyes lasted for only a moment before she hardened her features once again.
“I do not want to share your lunch, Griffin. As lovely as the offer is.” Sarcasm dripped from every word, her sweet Southern front dialed to ten. “What I’d like is for you to sign the papers so I can go back to work.”
I nodded, knowing when not to push. Tossing the papers down, I glanced around under the guise of looking for a pen, hoping if I couldn’t get her upstairs to talk, she’d be up for sharing a bit right there. “How’re you liking it?”
“You wastin’ my time?” she asked. “Not at all, actually.”
I shot her a smile over my shoulder. “I meant workin’ for your daddy.”
“I like it just fine,” she said, arms crossed and spine straight.
“Better than painting?” I didn’t stare at her as I waited for the answer, hoping if I pretended my attention was snagged by the paperwork in front of me rather than her answer, she’d be more inclined to respond.
She was silent for so long, I finally glanced over my shoulder at her in time to see her shake her head at me. “Look, I’m not sure what you think is happenin’ here, but you lost the right to ask me questions like that when you left town without a word. Ten freakin’ years ago. If you want insights on my life, you’re gonna have to ask around town, because you’re sure as hell not gonna get any from these lips.”
I dropped my gaze to said lips, flushed and pink, the barest hint of moisture there, as if she’d just licked them. I remembered what it’d been like to have that mouth on me. Remembered in great detail, actually.
While I’d always liked to call up those memories in previous years, it had gotten ridiculous over the past week. Thoughts of Willow had been my morning companion in the shower as I’d taken my cock in hand and worked myself to completion over the fantasy of her under me. Astride me. Bent over in front of me. Dozens upon dozens of different ways, only one of which I’d ever actually had the pleasure of experiencing. Because I’d bailed.
And as I stared at her, still stuck in her hometown, no apparent desire at all to have followed the dream she’d talked about for so long, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell I’d left for. The whole point had been so she could achieve her best life without the stain of my name holding her back. But from where I stood now, it looked like she’d held herself back just fine without my help.
I wanted to know why. Was desperate to find out what had snuffed out the bright, vibrant flame of the Willow I’d coerced out of her shell all those years ago. And she could shoot as many dirty looks my way as she wanted, but I wasn’t going to stop until I found out why my spirited Willowtree was back here again, under her daddy’s thumb. Living a life less than she deserved.