Chapter 6
Griffin
“You’re back a day early?” Tanner looks at me with a quirked eyebrow as we sit at his bar. Hudson is here too, the three of us meeting up for dinner.
“Got done in Sundown Valley early.” I sip the whiskey in my hand. Tanner sure as hell makes a nice drop. I have stock of each of his releases in all my houses, so no matter where I am, I’m never without.
“Early? Is Stonemore a lighter build than you thought?” Tanner watches me carefully. They’re not competitors as such. One in the whiskey game, one in wine. But they compete in the overall liquor market, so I’m careful with my words.
“Not by a long shot,” I share. “The build we’re doing for them is huge. Luxurious. It’ll make the Stonemore brand the standout feature of the entire wine region. People will flock from everywhere to go to Sundown Valley to see it. A premier destination. One I’m grateful to be a part of.”
Truth be told, I worked twenty-hour days, three days straight, just to get back here quicker.
“Just miss us, then?” Hudson chimes in with a cheeky grin.
“Never. I need to wrap up the bakery this week.” I take another sip, needing the burn.
I’ve done nothing but think of the beautiful baker since I met her.
Outwardly beautiful, of course, but also determined, with a strong work ethic, if her long days and early mornings are anything to go by.
Yet aside from me, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else in that bakery to help her.
She’s all alone, which doesn’t sit well with me.
The fact that her back screen door was broken and her smoke alarms didn’t work left me furious.
Whispers is a safe place, but there are assholes everywhere.
“Ahhhh. Savannah tells me you like her cinnamon rolls.” My eyes flick to Tanner. He’s seen her? Jealousy coils deep within—a feeling I haven't felt before.
“Have you tried them?”
“Unfortunately…” he murmurs.
I know they’re terrible, but when I saw her get all glassy-eyed while talking about her grandparents, I wanted to do anything to make her smile.
So I asked for more. The cheese pies she offered me were like cardboard, yet I shoved every last one into my mouth when on my jet that night.
They were so bad, I didn’t shit for days.
“She’s lost her sense of taste. Not sure why. But she wanted me to taste test them,” I grumble, pissed that Tanner has eaten her goods now too.
“I mean, it’s a common side effect,” Hudson quips, and I look at him and frown.
“Side effect?”
“It happens in about ninety percent of women in their first trimester. Those in their third, like Savannah, it drops to about ten to fifteen percent of women.”
My soul leaves my body. I feel it swoosh out from my legs down through my feet. Thank God I’m sitting down.
“Trimester?” My voice is like gravel. I look between Tanner and Hudson, both watching me, and I feel like I’ve been hit with a hammer.
“Savannah’s pregnant,” Tanner says, deadpan.
“Since when?” My pulse spikes. Chest tightens. I feel like I’ve been sucker punched.
“Yeah, I didn’t see it at first either. But she only has a few weeks to go,” Hudson confirms.
“A few weeks?” I nearly choke on my whiskey. “How the hell is that possible?”
“She’s carrying small,” Tanner says. “But it’s there. You just weren’t looking.”
I wasn’t. I was too damn focused on the curve of her smile, the way she seemed so incredibly grateful for the small amount of work I did for her. I also didn’t miss the fire in her eyes when she talked about rebuilding that bakery. I saw her. But I didn’t see her.
“I mean… she hasn’t got a big belly or anything,” I mutter, feeling like a complete idiot.
But I’ve never been around pregnant women.
No sisters. No mom. No clue. Tanner and Victoria have a kid, and I saw her belly, but she was waddling for weeks, though.
Savannah is the opposite, up and down ladders, painting, baking. Not a waddle in sight.
“Women all present differently. Lacy was always on the go with our little one.” Hudson grins, happier than ever with his little family of four.
“Victoria ate her way through her last trimester. I had to fly in so many fucking burgers and chocolate layer cakes from New York it was almost embarrassing.” Tanner rubs his eyes, and I still sit there, dumbfounded.
“How did I not see it?” I shake my head, upset with myself that I didn’t work it out.
Tanner's gaze sharpens. “She’s a single mom-to-be, who’s doing that bakery all on her own. Why did you think I called you in to help?”
“Fuck…” I scrub my face before I grab my glass and down the whole thing.
“Did you sign her up to the prenatal program?” Tanner looks at Hudson and I watch them both.
“You know I can’t tell you that. Don’t worry though, I’m taking good care of her.” Hudson nods, confirming Tanners thoughts without saying as such.
“Prenatal program?” I have no idea what they’re talking about.
“Hudson and I have jointly funded a program here in Whispers for women who are pregnant,” Tanner tells me. Of course he has. Giving back to this town is one of his biggest jobs, I’m sure.
I nod, but I’m not hearing them anymore. My mind is spinning. She’s pregnant. She’s working herself into the ground. And I’ve been standing there like some dumb bastard, eating her cardboard cheese pies and pretending I wasn’t affected by her.
“The father?” I ask, wondering if I want to know.
“Not in the picture.” Hudson is careful with his words.
I grip the edge of the table, knuckles white, that old, familiar rage stirring. The kind I’d buried deep, the kind that came from years of watching people walk away from their responsibilities. From kids who deserved better. From me.
I’d seen it too many times in the system.
Fathers who vanished. Mothers who gave up.
Promises broken before they were ever made.
I bounced around from home to home, not one adult giving a shit about anything other than the paycheck I could provide them.
It’s a miracle I’m still alive, really. Hit my mid-teens and found a life of petty crime, until one night, a foster father came home drunk, just like my bio dad used to, and started hitting the younger kids in his care.
All I saw that night was red. I was their only hope of protection, and I made sure I didn’t miss.
Thankfully, I knocked him out; otherwise, I would’ve killed him.
A short stint in juvie helped me get on the right path, and I never went back to that house.
I have no idea what happened to him, and I don’t care.
“Griff.” Tanner’s voice is quiet but firm. “You okay?”
“I don’t get it. How does someone just leave her like that?
How does someone know she’s carrying their kid and not show up?
” The feelings of abandonment I carry surface like a tidal wave.
Scars from my fear of getting close to someone, just for them to be ripped away.
This is why I work constantly or have my head in puzzles and crosswords.
If I relax too much, if I get too close to people, I’ll unravel.
Tanner doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to.
“She’s weeks away from having a baby,” I say, more to myself than them. “And she’s lifting heavy boxes, painting walls, walking upstairs, ladders, up early, finishing late.” I grab the bottle of whiskey in the middle of the table and pour another glass. One which I down as fast as the first.
Hudson shifts beside me, but Tanner keeps his eyes on me.
“Well, the town is ready to support her, and I appreciate all the work you’re doing to help her get up and running.” Tanner nods to me, his words not putting me at ease.
I need to go. I need space to think. I haven’t felt this mix of emotions in a long time.
“I gotta go.” I stand abruptly, the chair squealing on the timber floor.
“You alright?” Tanner leans back, looking at me. Hudson's gaze is assessing as well.
“Fine. I had a few big days, and I need to sleep.” Grabbing my jacket, I say a quick goodbye and stride out of the bar like it’s on fire.
I slam my door as I jump in my truck. My hands grip the steering wheel tight as my breathing becomes labored.
“This is bullshit…” I grit out to myself, hating that I get so worked up about this.
My past feels like it’s wrapping itself around my chest, heavy, black, and miserable.
The raw feeling of being left alone, of being scared, unable to depend on anyone.
I know what it’s like to have no support, no genuine care.
No love. It fucking enrages me that, even all these years later, there’s still asshole parents in this world.
A man who would leave his baby. Leaves the mother of his child alone, without help, without love.
Back when I was young, it was almost the norm.
Not that it hurt any less, but the number of kids who were damaged from adults not providing them with the necessities of life was a situation I grew up in and know all too well.
But seeing it still happen… Seeing society become bigger and better, yet still not providing for the kids of this country, leaves me hurt, angry, and bitter.
One half of me wants to cry, while the other wants to hit something.
This is why I never get close. Never stay in one place for long. Never commit. Not just to women, but to people. Tanner’s the only man I’ve known for longer than I remember. Even then, I keep some distance. Even if just geographically.
But there’s something about this woman that has me questioning everything I’ve ever done, and that almost frightens me more than anything else.
I suck in a breath and try to pull myself together, forcing myself to turn the ignition and drive.
When I detour and drive past the bakery, as expected, the lights are still on, and I see her shadow moving about in the kitchen.
The sight eases my pain a little, with a newfound respect for my local baker.
Resilience is a hard muscle to build, but one I have a feeling she has had a lot of experience using.
I turn quickly and head to my place before I do something stupid, like go and knock on her door.
I’m her builder. She’s almost a new mom. It needs to be that simple.