Chapter 7 #2
“We’ll be there,” Griffin tells him without hesitation.
“Great. Take care.” And just like that, my grumpy builder picks me up and walks me back out to his truck.
“I can walk, you know.” My words are halfhearted because I’m exhausted. The early mornings, late nights, and all that poking and prodding at the hospital has my mind and body more than ready to rest.
“I know,” is all he says as I lean into him a little, enjoying the feeling of being taken care of. He puts me in the truck quickly yet tenderly, ensuring I’m secure, and we get on our way.
He remains quiet for the entire drive back, silently brooding, and I feel my weariness deepen, yet glad to finally get back to the bakery and see it all still in one piece.
As the truck pulls up, I make a move to get out.
“Thanks, Griffin, I don’t…” He’s out of the truck and his door slammed mid-sentence. I sit, stunned for a moment, before my door whips open.
“Wha…” My words fail me as he scoops me up from the seat and carries me inside.
Being in his embrace, my heart pounds. I didn’t have time to think about it earlier, but now that I’m calmer, I feel his large hands wrap around me.
I take comfort in his protective hold, and I swallow down the feelings building; they have no business popping up now, as my friendly builder gives me a helping hand inside.
“The doctor said to rest,” he grits out as we step inside the bakery. I get ready to drop from his hold, but he keeps me in his arms tight, walking straight through the retail area and out the back to the kitchen.
“I need to remake the cinnamon buns.” I start to wriggle so he’ll set me down.
Not wanting to embarrass myself because I can think of nothing I want more than to relax in his embrace and snuggle into his very hard and very masculine chest. My eyes snag on my baking trays.
I want to make another batch. I want to make something for this party tomorrow.
“No, you need to rest. You also need to hire some help around here.” He doesn’t let go of me and his steps don’t falter as he climbs the small staircase leading to my apartment.
“I have a local woman, Melissa, coming in to work with me. What are you doing?” If I could move, I would, but there’s no way I can get my pregnant body out of his grip, and the longer I’m in it, the more comfortable it’s feeling.
“Putting you to bed.” He hits the landing and pauses.
I look around to see what he’s seeing. My small studio is open plan.
It’s just me, so it's not like I need much. My bed in the corner, a few cupboards, a small kitchenette, and then off to one side is the small bathroom with a shower. The one I’m already struggling to fit into.
It’s not much, but it’s more than adequate.
“I don’t need to sleep yet.” But like my body is fighting against me, my mouth opens involuntarily, and a small yawn escapes.
“Yeah, sweetness, doesn’t look like it.”
Eyes wide, I look at him and blink. There’s that name again.
I thought for sure I imagined it earlier.
Maybe I’m already asleep. Maybe I’m dreaming.
It’s my rampant hormones again, making me think I’m hearing these soft words from a sexy, gruff man who’s manhandling my pregnant body like he’s put on this earth for that exact purpose.
“I have to bake.” My words come out strong, yet as he lays my body onto my bed, I immediately sink into the soft, old mattress and know I’m not going to get out of it in a hurry.
“Sleep. Doctor’s orders. I’ll work downstairs, and I’ll lock up when I leave.
” He pulls a blanket over me before he turns and walks straight back out.
I watch his back disappear and then hear his boots hit each step on his way down.
I’m lost for words. I’m not his responsibility, and we’re not friends.
But today when I needed someone, he was there.
I lie there, looking at the ceiling, caressing my bump. I have a feeling Griffin is like a caramel. Hard on the outside, gooey on the inside. His eyes are brown, the same color as the candy too. I take a few deep breaths, trying to de-stress. Griffin and Hudson are right. I do need to rest.
“We’ll be fine, baby. Just fine…” I tell my cherub, rubbing my tummy, and as my eyes slowly close, I start to dream of a hard but gooey caramel.
My eyes ping open, and I’m immediately awake as the light from beneath the curtains shines in on my face.
“Urghh.” I start to sit up, the endeavor taking a little longer than usual. I’m already puffing before my feet hit the floor. I look at the clock, seeing it’s four a.m. and need to blink a few times. I slept for twelve hours? How is that even possible?
“Wow, you’re really taking all my energy these last few weeks, aren’t you, baby?” I rub my belly as I head to the shower to get ready for the day.
I’ve always been an early riser. For years, I worked the early shift at one of the local Williamstown bakeries, which was located right near the church.
Waking at four, baking all morning, offering fresh delights for everyone on their way to work or home from church.
I think it’s the quiet of it that I like so much.
Before anyone else is awake, before the world starts, I get to work in my own little world, putting all my attention into the dough.
But that was before I lost my job the minute the community discovered I was having a baby out of wedlock.
Once I’m fresh and clean, I throw on some clothes, put my hair back, and start my trek downstairs.
I hit the kitchen, seeing the lights still on, and frown.
As my eyes canvass the room, my head rears back.
Right in the middle is now a long, professional stainless-steel bench, with custom-made cupboards underneath.
My ingredients have been sorted and stacked, my baking trays are all itemized in size in what looks to be a customized rack, and all the drop sheets from the painting yesterday have been removed, and the floor mopped.
“Oh… my goodness…”
Griffin must have done it all. I reach out and grab my apron, putting it on as I walk tentatively through the space in awe.
I run my fingers across the stainless steel.
My kitchen now looks like a fully functional professional bakery.
The only spot left is the small section to the side, where I plan to put the baby while I work.
He must’ve worked all night, and this is above and beyond anything I was expecting. My stomach flutters, but I blame it on my baby.
Inspired from my thoughts of him last night, I’ve decided to make some sweet caramels for the party.
It was nice of Hudson to invite me. I know Tanner was welcoming, and Griffin is amazing, so I’m starting to think this small town is just inclusive like that.
And I need to repay everyone for their kindness. Starting with the birthday party today.
I step out toward the front door, to ensure Griffin locked up after he left last night, but I take a few steps and stall. Because there on the floor, with a rolled-up sweater under his head, is Griffin.
He slept on the floor. He stayed with me for the entire night.
There goes that flutter again.