Griffin (The Billionaires of Whispers #6)

Chapter 1

Savannah Shepherd

I’m sweating in areas that haven't sweat before.

That, combined with the fact that my hair’s a mess, my hands are wrinkled from all the suds, my nails are chipped and my back aches, has me feeling all the seven months pregnant that I am.

So, of course, that’s when the front door chimes, and I look up from where I’m on hands and knees, scrubbing the floor, to see one of the most devastatingly handsome men I think I’ve ever laid eyes on in real life.

“Hope I’m not interrupting?” He steps in, all towering muscles, looking down on me with a furrowed brow.

With my hands still wet with suds, I blow out a sharp breath to move the hair that’s dangling in my face and wonder how the heck I’m going to get off this floor to greet him like a normal person.

“No… not at all.” I quickly wipe my hands on my overalls, the pair of secondhand threads that are starting to fit a little more snug than usual due to my expanding belly.

Although, I’m still carrying small, and the bump is barely noticeable to most people.

“Welcome to Betty’s Bakery.” I try to stand, thanking God above when I succeed in that task.

“I’m Tanner Whiteman…” He pauses, and it has the effect he was hoping for.

Everyone around here knows who Tanner Whiteman is.

This guy might as well own Whispers. It’s one of the reasons I moved here.

Whispers is a sleepy little town, yet the businesses do a roaring trade, all thanks to his rich friends and his amazing distillery.

My heart races, knowing the man in front of me could close me down before I even serve my first customer.

“I’m Savannah. Savannah Shepherd. Owner of…

” I raise my hands to gesture around and try to smile.

There’s so much work to do; it’ll be a miracle if I get it all done and the bakery opens before my little cherub arrives.

When I submitted the paperwork to open the bakery here in Whispers, I thought the process would be quick.

I needed it to be. But the interest in Whispers has intensified in the past few years and local government shuffling paperwork seemed to take months.

Hence why I’m about to pop and open a bakery at the same time. But I trust God’s plan.

“I came to welcome you to town. It’s nice to have new people invest here, and opening a bakery is a welcome addition to Whispers.”

Great, he’s good-looking and kind. I also happen to know that he’s very, very taken so I put my hormones in check.

“Thank you. Everyone’s been really nice so far.

I love it here in Whispers.” My smile is genuine.

Compared to where I came from, Whispers might as well be a luxury destination, not the small town it is.

I’m still finding my feet, but I’ve never felt so free.

Probably because I never was. My family’s increasing fanatical religious beliefs were so suffocating, I’m surprised I survived it at all.

“Is it just you or…” Tanner looks around, seemingly obvious to how much work needs to be done here.

Probably expecting a man to pop out. But my father disowned me, I have no brothers, and the man who contributed to my bump made it clear that he wasn’t interested in me beyond the gratification he gained from putting me in this situation.

He skipped town almost immediately, leaving me to face the community and our families on my own.

“Yeah.” I wipe my hands on my legs again, the familiar sense of loneliness sweeping through my body. “It’s just me.”

Tanner’s eyes flick back to mine, and his frown deepens.

“I mean, I have a help wanted sign in the window. I’m looking for a part-time employee who can assist when I’m not here.

” I try to convey that I’m an organized businesswoman, even though I don’t look like it.

But this bakery has been a dream of mine for forever.

Something I never thought possible, and I’m making it happen.

“When do you think you’ll be up and running? I’d like to talk to you about supplying my distillery.” My eyebrows shoot to my hairline.

“Ahhh, supplying?” I’m not deaf, but I do have baby brain so I don't trust myself to believe my ears at times.

“Yeah, well, I have a restaurant at the distillery. They need fresh bread daily, pastries, that kind of thing. My accommodations will be opening soon. I like the idea of providing a fresh basket of local produce to every visitor, of which your bakery can provide for as well.” He nods, like it's a done deal. Excitement blooms. My first real customer already! This conversation almost makes all the months of anguish I’ve endured worth it.

Biting my lip, I look around, seeing the mess of the place.

Secondhand professional mixers in the back that I’m still trying to get used to.

The old oven needs to be cleaned, but it’s in working order.

The floor is now almost sparkling, the dust and grime something that had built up for many years.

I also need to paint the walls, fix the counter, and install some new display cabinets here at the front, and then I should be able to open it to the public while perfecting the rest at night.

“I’m hoping to be open in a few weeks. I still have all this to fix up.” I wave my hand around. It should feel impossible, but I’d rather be here than back with my family.

“Who’s doing your carpentry?” I look back at Tanner quickly, my brain scrambling.

“Oh… me?” I don’t know how to repair a countertop or how to build the cabinets, but I’ll watch some videos online and figure it out.

That’s pretty much what I’ve been doing since I got here.

My family made it clear what they thought of me when I unexpectedly fell pregnant.

Kept me inside, with their fear of community backlash at the forefront.

More concerned about my actions tarnishing their good name in the religious community we were a part of than they were about what I was going through.

They were adamant I would stay hidden, place my baby for adoption, and then just enter the world again like nothing happened.

But I have other plans. Although going through it alone feels harder every day.

Tanner’s eyes move down to my belly, then back to my face. I’m not sure if he can tell that I’m with child, since I kind of look like I ate a huge bowl of pasta, but these overalls don’t hide it.

“I have a builder. He can help.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he nods. Again, like it’s a done deal.

“Uh… I… um…” My grandmother left me some money when she passed, which is how I ended up here, with this bakery and all the secondhand equipment. But the little funds I have left need to see me through the birth and until the bakery can start bringing in a solid, consistent income.

“Sounds great, but my budget doesn’t extend to builders’ fees, so I’m okay. I’m figuring it out as I go.” I smile, hoping he doesn’t think I’m being ungrateful.

“My builder’s the best. He’ll have this done in a few days. No charge.”

Back aching, I stand rooted to the floor in shock.

Blinking wordlessly at him. No charge? Like the miracle inside of me knows I’m staring, the baby kicks, helping me to get my mouth working again.

But as generous as his offer is, nothing is free.

Everything comes at a price, and I start to feel unsettled.

“Why would you help me?” I didn’t always suspect people of having ulterior motives. I went through life thinking everyone was kind and genuine and honest. But that all changed a few months ago when those closest to me showed their true colors. Now I doubt everyone.

Tanner's face blanches for a moment before he looks me in the eye.

“This town likes to see people succeed. A thriving bakery like this gives a place for tourists to stop, somewhere that can cater for the diner or my distillery. We help each other out here. Not sure what you’ve experienced before”—brow furrowed, he looks down at my belly again—“ but here, in Whispers, we don’t leave our people to fail. ”

I take in a small breath, still not agreeing to anything. I’m not sold on the idea of accepting so much free help. Especially from a man I just met. Regardless of how good-looking and rich he is.

“We could always barter?” he suggests, clearly noticing my hesitation.

My head tilts at that. “Barter?”

“I’ll get my builder to help fix this place up. You supply me a fresh loaf of bread every morning until you’ve paid back the fee.”

“But that could take a year. Or longer!” I’m astounded. A man I’ve never met, offering to give me essentially a loan and allowing me to pay him back in gluten.

“I know a good investment when I see it. And my builder will too.” His eyes twinkle, like he knows something I don’t. But as I look around my bakery, spotting the chipped counter and the cupboard doors almost off their hinges, I know I could use the help.

Something deep within tells me I can trust this man.

That he isn’t someone who’s going to push me out of town or bury me out in the large acreage of forest on the outskirts that I saw on the map recently—apparently, locals call it Serial Killer Forest. Yikes.

I get a chill just thinking about it. Actually, from what I’ve read, Tanner Whiteman is one of the most wealthy and upstanding members of not only this town and this state, but I dare say, most of the country.

Maybe this is the small break I’ve been hoping for. Maybe this is part of God's plan. Maybe Grandma is looking down on me from above, giving me the helping hand I need. I take a deep breath, praying that I don’t make the wrong decision.

“Do you like sourdough or…?” The corners of my lips start to curve. I need to learn to trust again. I have to lean on someone to make this bakery a success. For me and my little one.

“Sourdough will be just fine.” He grins, offering me his hand again, and I shake it, sealing our agreement. Completely unaware of how much this deal will change my life.