Chapter 3
Chapter Three
FORD
Ipaused outside the door to Griffen’s office, my hand raised to knock and my gut clenching in a quick pulse of nerves.
Growing up, this had been my father’s office.
For a brief period, before I’d gotten him exiled, our father had shared it with Griffen and me.
Once Griffen was gone, my father knew he had me exactly where he wanted me.
After all, I’d gotten rid of my only ally.
And if I wanted to keep all I’d gained, I needed Prentice’s goodwill.
Unfortunate that I hadn’t seen the trap until I’d walked into it.
Over the years, I’d learned to hate this room.
Now, this office was Griffen’s, Hope’s, and Royal’s.
But really, it was Griffen’s. Everything was Griffen’s, as it was always meant to be.
I’d once dreamed of running Sawyer Enterprises from the big desk.
I didn’t want that anymore, and by all reports, Griffen, Hope, and Royal were doing a bang-up job.
I was happy for them. I was. But something about walking into this office as an interloper burned, and I swallowed hard to drive the feeling away.
I knocked on the door, a quick triple rap that left my knuckles stinging and my spine a little straighter. I was not a coward. Yes, I’d fucked up, but I wasn’t running from my mistakes. It was time I took back the reins of my life. Even if I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going with it.
“Come in,” Griffen called.
I turned the handle and pushed open the heavy door, surprised to find Griffen pacing in front of the fireplace.
His daughter Stella, a year old this past week, was cradled in his arms, both their faces flushed.
Stella was missing her usual sweet expression, her little face twisted in a bright red scowl, eyes glassy with angry tears.
“Ford, hey,” Griffen said distractedly. “Awesome, come here.”
“What?” I asked, crossing the room to meet him in front of the fireplace.
He shoved Stella into my arms. “Take her.”
“No— I can’t—” My words fell on deaf ears. Before I was done sputtering them out, Stella was in my arms, and Griffen was disappearing out the door of his office. I would have called after him, but the jogging thumps of his feet on the floor told me he was long gone.
Fuck.
I didn’t think I’d ever held a baby before.
Was I even doing it right? Stella sucked in a shuddering breath and expelled it in an ear-splitting wail.
Oh, poor kid. I didn’t know what was wrong, but whatever it was, she was miserable.
I gave an exploratory sniff, but all I got was lavender and baby powder, so—not her diaper.
Making sure my arm was secure under her butt, I leaned her into my shoulder.
Her teary cheeks were hot and wet on my collarbone, forehead pressed against my neck as I patted her back uselessly.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, kid. Whatever it is, your dad’s going to work it out.
” I hoped. Because while she wasn’t fighting, she hadn’t stopped screaming either.
I patted and soothed, surprised by how much she weighed. After what seemed like an eternity, she let out a snuffling sigh, the volume of her wail fading. After a few shuddering breaths, she stopped crying completely, her little back rising and falling under my patting hand.
Was she asleep? I didn’t know. But I was going to stand here for as long as it took, rocking side to side, patting her back, and praying that whatever I’d done to calm her down kept working. How could Griffen have just left me with a baby? I couldn’t have been less confident.
The door flew open, and Griffen burst back in, his eyes a little frantic, a bright pink thing clutched in his hand. “Teething,” he said as he crossed the room toward me.
At the sound of her father’s voice, Stella stirred, whimpering, one little hand reaching out in his direction.
Griffen thrust the pink thing at Stella and me.
She closed her little fingers around it and shoved it in her mouth, stretching her lips around the frosty plastic as she gnawed so aggressively that I wondered if she was trying to chew through it.
I shifted my hold to hand her back to Griffen. With a tight grin, he evaded me.
“She stopped screaming,” he said. “My ears need a break. Hang on to her for a few minutes, would you? I’ll take her if she gets restless.”
“What is that?” I asked, watching my niece work her gums on the pink thing.
“Frozen teething ring. Her first tooth is coming in, and she’s miserable with it,” he replied. “Thanks. The ring usually settles her down, but I put it back in the freezer and forgot to grab it.”
“No problem,” I lied. “We’re fine.” That part wasn’t a lie. We were. Shockingly.
Stella cuddled into my chest, seemingly content and unaware that I was totally unqualified to hold a baby. Or maybe she sensed my connection to her father and was comforted.
“It’s weird,” I said, stroking a hand down her back.
“Seeing you with a baby. She looks like a perfect little mishmash of you and Hope.” Stella’s hair was a mass of white-blonde curls, exactly like Griffen’s had been when he was a kid.
Her eyes were Hope’s whiskey-shaded hazel.
She had a little pink rosebud mouth and rounded cheeks.
Griffen grinned at his daughter, a fierce love in his eyes. “I know. She’s perfect. Life is funny,” he started. “I wasn’t planning on any of this, but—” Maybe realizing who he was talking to, he stopped abruptly and shifted his weight on his feet.
I could feel the tension filling the room.
“I know what you mean,” I said quickly. “This wasn’t exactly my plan either.
But it worked out for you—” Griffen started to say something, and I shook my head.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, despite everything that came before, you’re where you were supposed to be the whole time. ”
Griffen looked like he wasn’t sure how to take that. God, I sucked at making amends. I didn’t know how to say what I needed to say. I didn’t know what Griffen needed to hear—or, if I did know, whether I had what it took to tell him. We stared at each other in awkward silence for too long.
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and we both turned to see Paige come in.
“Griffen,” she said, her eyes going straight to Stella, her face draining of color as she realized I was holding the baby. “I’ll take her,” she said, coming close enough to snatch Stella from my arms before drawing her a safe distance away.
I didn’t blame her. Whether or not she thought I was a murderer, she knew I’d recently been released from prison. And I’d spent most of my time since avoiding my family, especially the kids.
Ignoring me, she said to Griffen, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t find the teething gel. I looked everywhere. I’ll run into town and get more. Maybe Stella wants to go for a ride?”
I’d swear Stella smiled up at Paige around the frozen pink teething ring jammed in her mouth. Did she want to go for a ride? Or did she just love being snuggled up to Paige?
If it was the second, I could relate. I did my best to stay away from Paige.
Her hair was pulled back in a bun, unlike last night when it had spilled over her shoulders in shining dark curls.
She wore jeans and a blue sweater that brought out the unusual icy blue of her eyes.
Griffen didn’t expect his staff to dress in uniform—though Savannah, my sister-in-law and our housekeeper, insisted on one.
Paige was more comfortable in her own clothes.
I shouldn’t have had any trouble avoiding her. She kept to herself and stuck with the kids. Yet lately it seemed like everywhere I turned, there was Paige McKenna, tormenting me. Not that she knew it. She could barely meet my eyes.
Every cell in my body yearned to touch her, to get closer, to see if her hair smelled as good as it looked—or if her skin was as soft as it seemed.
I’d been living like a monk in the months before my father died, and prison sure as hell hadn’t helped.
Somewhere in there, my libido had gone on vacation.
It had roared back to life the first time I saw Paige McKenna, the day I’d been released from prison and come home to Heartstone Manor.
Why her? It was inconvenient at best and disastrous at worst to lust after my brother’s nanny.
Even forgetting that it was completely inappropriate, given that she worked in Heartstone, it was also the last thing I wanted to do if I had any hope of healing my relationship with Griffen.
She was too young, too sweet, too innocent, and I had no business getting involved with any woman.
Not now. Maybe not ever. I could put together a list of reasons a mile long of why I couldn’t—and shouldn’t—want Paige McKenna.
Yet, as I watched her leave the room, Stella cradled in her arms, all I wanted to do was follow.
Not for you, I reminded myself. I had enough trouble. I didn’t need to go out and buy myself more.
“Sorry about that,” Griffen said. “Hope is out with Royal at a meeting. Paige and I are trying to manage the teething.”
“Teething sounds like torture,” I said, following Griffen across the room to his desk. I took a chair on the opposite side, deliberately picking the one I’d never used back when Prentice had sat behind that desk. This was now, and it wasn’t Prentice’s desk anymore—it was Griffen’s.
“So? What’s up?” Griffen asked, his tone holding a hint of hesitation.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said. “I need to do something. With the rest of my life.”
“It’s kind of a big swing,” Griffen said. “I don’t know that you have to figure out the rest of your life right now.”
I nodded. “Good point. Maybe just the next few months?” I raised an eyebrow. “I’m helping Avery out at the brewery, but—”
“That’s not a career choice,” Griffen finished for me.
“No,” I agreed. “I need to do some thinking before I figure out what I want, where a career is concerned.”
“Are you—” Griffen picked up a pen, looked at it as if he’d never seen it before, set it back down, and tapped his fingers on the desk. “Are you okay for money?” he asked.
The shame of the question curdled in my gut.
“I’m fine,” I said truthfully, though I didn’t want to talk money with Griffen.
Even after Cole’s exorbitant fees, I still had plenty of cash in the bank.
“It’s not the money,” I said. “I need to figure out what I want to do with myself. But that’s not your problem,” I finished, cutting off the worry I saw on his face.
Griffen was afraid I was going to ask for my place in the family business. And while I wanted it—sometimes desperately—that wasn’t my future anymore. It couldn’t be. I’d lost the right.
But there was something I could do. “I want to find out who killed Dad,” I said to Griffen. His eyes widened, and I went on. “Before he died, I was digging into some of Dad’s business deals. I was looking for leverage.”