Chapter 8
Griffin
My neck and back are killing me, and as I roll over, I remember why. I slept on a hardwood floor for a few hours, right here in the bakery.
“Arghhhh.” Moaning, I start to wake, sitting and stretching a little, smelling the sweet aromas of freshly baked goods wafting from the kitchen.
It’s the kind of smell love makes. From someone who spends time perfecting.
That same sweet scent I breathe in whenever Savannah is nearby.
It clings to her hair and her skin, like she’s brushed herself with sugar before stepping into the world, subtly giving off a sweetness I really shouldn’t be touching.
Rubbing my eyes, I swallow, trying to moisten my dry throat.
I’m still tired after a big few days both here and in Sundown Valley.
Standing gingerly, feeling older than my years, I walk toward the noise and smells of the kitchen, my night flooding back to me.
I spent hours getting it ready for her. The kitchen, the retail space.
All she needs to do is sort her things and she can open.
I also didn’t want to leave her. Not alone.
At night. Not after her needing the doctor.
It scared me, seeing her double over in pain and knowing she doesn’t have anyone else.
I sped to the hospital so fast; I’m surprised I didn’t take out someone on the way.
I pause in the doorway to watch her. She looks vibrant as always.
Her delicious curves are food for my eyes.
She’s been busy, clearly up for a while if the rows of cupcakes are anything to go by.
I’m glad she hired some help, because I have no idea how she was going to manage all this when the baby is born.
She works quietly, yet diligently, not noticing me as she moves through the kitchen like she was born to do it. My eyes flick to the clock on the wall. Six a.m. Barely light out.
“Morning.” No point in hiding. She obviously saw me sleeping.
“Oh… good morning.” She turns at the sound of my voice, a smile pulling at her lips. “Here…” She pours fresh coffee from her percolator into a mug and walks it to me.
“Mmm. Thank you.” I take the cup, ignoring the burn in my chest at her thoughtfulness, keeping the coffee hot, knowing I’d need one. My hands brush against hers, and a small rumble starts in my chest. One of contentment.
“I thought you might need it.” Our eyes meet, and I keep my mouth shut, giving her a small nod. “Soooo, make a habit of sleeping on bakery floors?”
I take a sip of coffee and almost groan again. “First time.” I’m not one for a lot of conversation. Especially when I first wake. I should’ve said good morning and left immediately. Yet here I am, feet rooted to the ground, watching her.
“Work late?” She watches me for a moment before getting back to her baking.
“Somewhat. But I sure as hell wasn’t leaving you here alone.” My tone makes me sound like an asshole.
Her brow pinches as her eyes flick up to mine again. “I’m perfectly fine and capable…”
“You were in the hospital yesterday. As I said, I sure as hell wasn’t leaving you here alone.”
Nodding, she bites the inside of her lip. “Well… thank you. I appreciate your concern and thank you again for taking me to the hospital yesterday.” She’s cute when she’s coy.
“What’s that smell?” It smells like her. All sugar and sweet. I didn’t mean to call her sweetness yesterday. But with her in my arms, holding her tight, that's all I could smell in her hair. The powdered sugar sweetness.
“Oh, I made a fresh batch of cinnamon buns. These are delicious. I taste tested them already, so they’re safe.” She puts one on a small plate and offers it to me along with a big smile, making me feel like the full sun's rays are shining on my face. “And I also made some cupcakes and caramels.”
“Caramels?” I frown as I take a sip of coffee before I put it down, my stomach now growling.
“I didn’t want to turn up to the kids’ party today without something.”
Fuck. The party. I wasn’t going to go. Snotty little creatures will be high on sugar and excitement and probably want me to play with them, even though I always say no.
I don’t go to many of these parties; I’ve stayed well away for years, never wanting to get too close.
I usually send the obligatory gift, something ridiculously expensive they’ll never use.
But when Hudson invited Savannah yesterday, it was a done deal.
You can sure as hell believe I’ll be taking her.
“That’s nice of you.” I swallow before I lift the cinnamon bun to my mouth, preparing my throat and stomach for the bland taste. But as the bun touches my lips, then the warm icing hits my tongue, my eyes almost roll into the back of my head.
“Are they good?” She watches me hesitantly, a small wince on her face, waiting for my verdict. Even if they weren’t, I’d tell her they’re perfect, but today, I don’t need to lie.
“These are…” I take another bite. “These are… delicious.” God, they almost melt in my mouth. I’ve eaten a lot of cinnamon buns in my time. These are by far the best.
“Really?” Her eyebrows rise like she can’t believe it.
“Really,” I confirm, and she grins even wider and lets out a little happy squeak before turning back to her baking.
From the back, she doesn’t look pregnant. A little curvy in all the right places, but nothing to indicate she’s carrying a child.
“The baby got a father?” My voice is still rough from sleep, and the words rumble out of me before I have time to rein them back in. I clench my jaw as her body stills for a moment before she moves to take out another tray from the oven.
“No. Not one who wants anything to do with either of us.” She huffs a small laugh like I said the most ridiculous thing, the news causing my teeth to grind.
“I thought he was the one. Dated for a while. He told me he was going to marry me. This”—she looks at her belly before continuing—“was a surprise. Not planned. It turned out he didn’t want the responsibility, which did come as a big surprise to me. He skipped town as soon as I told him.”
The bun I ate sits heavy in my gut as she grabs a piping bag and starts icing the cupcakes.
“No new boyfriend? Partner?” I find myself pressing, my voice like gravel. I shouldn’t be asking. Have no idea why I am. There’s no one here. She gets no visitors, no gentleman callers that I’ve noticed.
“Nope. None of those are interested in me either. As you can see, I'm a real man magnet.” Her sarcastic humor doesn’t make me smile. I’m not sure how a woman like her can be single. My eyes drape over her again, unable to help myself. She’s beautiful.
“So no one will mind me taking you to the party today, then. Good to know.”
She turns and looks at me, and I sip my coffee, acting like none of that bothers me. Because outside of the asshole people she’s had in her life, it doesn’t.
“What about you? No wife? Girlfriend? Waiting for you to take them?” She’s tentative with her words. The two of us asking the questions we want answers to. I take another sip to hide my grin.
I shake my head slowly, eyes on hers. “No. No one.”
“Good to know.” She passes my own words back to me, before turning back around and finishing off the cupcakes. I reach for another cinnamon bun, not able to stop at one.