Chapter 11
Savannah
“I’m surprised you’re still walking.” I try yet fail to hide the small smirk as Griffin and I walk out of the party to his truck. As the happy screams of the kids becomes more distant, my body also feels weary.
“Hmmm, I got my exercise. Here.” Griffin opens the truck door for me as I make a weak attempt to reach up for the door grab handles and almost topple.
“Looks like your legs aren’t working either…” His voice is a mere grumble, but I feel his breathy words on the back of my neck, my skin prickling at his closeness. I have little time to bask in it before his hands are on my waist and my feet leave the ground.
I can’t help but laugh. “Whoa, give a girl some warning before you manhandle her.” My cheeks flush immediately as he puts me in my seat. I have no idea how he’s not breaking a sweat. I mean, I’m not a size two, and I have a bun in the oven.
As I look at him, he doesn’t meet my gaze, but his jaw is tight, his permanent scowl not wavering as he leans inside and secures my seat belt across my body. With his face so close, my breathing stops as his chest almost hits my own.
Seeing him play with the kids did something to my insides.
It made me all warm and gooey. His frown and scowls remained throughout the entire day, looking entirely unapproachable to anyone, but still, he kept playing, continuing to make the kids giggle and laugh.
I wasn’t the only person to notice; it seems his behavior was unusual, according to the girls I met today.
But even through his grumpy facade, I could tell he had a good time.
Now as he leans across me to help buckle me in, I can smell his cologne, like wood, trees, and rain all combined.
I close my eyes, wishing I could get these stupid feelings out of my mind.
The last thing this man needs is his very pregnant baker lusting over him.
God, it’s almost embarrassing at this point.
“You want a warning next time, sweetness?” His voice is low, rough. “Fine. Next time, I’ll tell you exactly where I plan to put my hands.”
I still, my eyes popping wide, as does my mouth, before he slams the door and strides around the truck to the driver’s side.
I have exactly two seconds to close my mouth, take a breath, and tell my raging hormones to get back in their box.
Is it normal to get immediately horny when I’m so pregnant?
I mean, it has been a long time since a man touched me.
A long time since a man even spoke to me like an equal, like I was someone worthy.
I rub my bump, acutely aware he’s probably being kind because I’m with child. We’ve only just gotten to know each other, but I can already tell he’s a man of his word. A man who has a strong sense of what’s good and bad in the world. Maybe he feels sorry for me.
He jumps into his truck with ease, and I swallow roughly, the tension thick as he starts the drive through Hudson’s expansive ranch.
“Everyone seemed to like the baked goods?” I’m fishing to see if anyone commented to him, trying to ease my nerves of opening my bakery in a few days.
“They did. They were delicious. Are you ready for opening?” He doesn’t look at me, his eyes remaining on the road. I sigh, feeling the pressure starting to mount on my shoulders with opening the doors to Betty’s Bakery, hoping I get at least one customer on my first day.
“Well, I think I’ve gotten the hang of the ovens. My secondhand mixers are working overtime, so I’m praying they last a few months before I need to invest in some new ones. But I hope I’ve redeemed myself after the terrible cinnamon buns I handed out weeks ago… I still can’t believe you ate them.”
I smile, and his lips twitch.
“I was hungry.”
“I’m surprised you survived. They were truly terrible.
” I laugh at myself now and soften as his lips curve even more.
God, if this man smiled, it would light up the whole town, I’m sure of it.
Talking with him is easy. I haven’t felt this comfortable talking to anyone before.
It’s almost like being near him eases everything else on my mind.
“Anyway, to answer your question, I have to prep a few more things, need to order some extra ingredients and firm up my offerings, but fingers crossed when I open in a week, it will all come together.” I send a quick silent prayer up above that this bakery is a roaring success.
“I don’t think you have to worry. I have a feeling the town will line up out the door.”
I appreciate his positivity.
“I hope so. That would be fun to have a line of people waiting. But I highly doubt the population of Whispers is in that much need of bread.”
His eyes flick to me. “Did you see how fast those cupcakes went? And there were only a few caramels left, too.”
I grin, rolling my lips, loving that he noticed. “I have a feeling you ate the most.”
He remains quiet, which is how I know I’m right.
“You seemed to make some friends today?” He looks over at me from under his brow. Again, it’s brief, a glance, but it lights me up inside.
“The women were all so warm and welcoming. We swapped numbers.” I can’t even tame my smile. I’ve finally made friends. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to, even longer since I tried.
“Good.”
“I mean, you could’ve given me a heads-up that there would be a Hollywood movie star there…” I chuckle.
“Sutton and Charlotte are my neighbors.”
My eyes widen. “Surprisingly down-to-earth too. They talked about bees a lot…”
“Yeah, Sutton has an unhealthy obsession with them.”
“It sure is a specific hobby. Probably okay as long as you’re not allergic.”
“Of which he is…” Griffin sighs and shakes his head, and I frown in confusion but let it be.
“It’s beautiful out here.” I lean my head back on the seat and look out the window in awe of the scenery, trying to get my mind on anything other than the mammoth of a man next to me and how good his hands felt on my body.
I try to focus on the rolling green hills, the lines of trees for privacy, the grass so green it makes you want to stop and lie on it and bask in the sun.
“Mm-hmm. It is.”
“You said you were neighbors with Sutton? Where do you stay when you’re here?
” I look at him, his eyes firmly on the road, not meeting my gaze.
But I feel our connectedness. He’s one hundred percent with me, not thinking of other things, not looking out and around trying to ignore me. He’s totally present.
“My place is down the road, up the back behind the pines. I like my privacy.” He nods, and I take another moment to drink him in.
Shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows. Jeans fitting him just right.
Thick arms, solid body. I don’t think he works out as such, but being a builder has him lifting and moving around all day. His body is a byproduct of his job.
“If you weren’t building mansions for billionaires, what would you be doing?” I’m interested to hear what a man like Griffin would want to do with his life if he could change it.
He shrugs, thinking about it for a few seconds. “Something quiet. Maybe restoring old cabins. No deadlines. No clients.”
“That sounds… peaceful.” I smile softly. I can see that about him. Wanting peace. Wanting space. After my upbringing, that sounds like it would be good for my soul too.
“What about you? If you weren’t baking?”
I pull in a breath. No one has ever asked about what I like or what I want to do. I’ve always known. I always followed my passion. But no one else around me seemed to care enough to ask.
“I think I was always meant to bake. My grandma instilled it in me from a young age. I can’t imagine my life without some type of baking. I like making something from nothing.”
“I understand that.” I suppose that’s kind of what he does when he builds. He builds homes from basic materials. He houses people, and I feed them.
“Do you get lonely?” I feel like it would be. A big house way up here in the middle of nowhere. Always traveling, never settled. He looks out the window and thinks about my question, which gives me pause. I have a feeling Griffin keeps himself isolated. Not sure why. His friends seem amazing.
“I’m never here for long enough.” He’s right. He isn’t. I know he’s leaving town again tomorrow, having only been here a few days. He’s always busy, always ready for the next destination. I get exhausted thinking about it.
The truck hums beneath us, the road winding through the trees. “You ever think about staying? Here in Whispers more permanently?”
He doesn’t answer right away, but I wait. “Sometimes… But I don’t know if I’d know how.” Shifting his gaze to me, his eyes search mine for a millisecond, causing me to hold my breath. “What about you? Get lonely?”
“Hmmm, not really. I talk to my bump a lot. I guess in a few weeks, loneliness will be the furthest thing from my mind. Dare I say, sleeping will become a priority.” I huff a laugh, not sure what to expect from my life when my baby arrives. But I know life's going to change. Again.
“You talk to your bump a lot?” I notice his lips quirk. Great, now he probably thinks I’m crazy.
“All the time. I think it’s already sick of me.”
He glances over, head shaking. “You’re going to be a good mom.”
I blink away some emotion at his sincerity, warmth blooming in my chest.
“I hope so…” I swallow past a sudden lump in my throat. The pressure of trying to give my baby everything has me wringing my hands on my lap.
“You got a family that will be here to help you?” I almost laugh. My family? Help?
“No. They don’t… approve of my situation. I didn’t really have any choice but to leave them and do it on my own. So I did.”
“Don’t approve?” His frown back in full force.
“Yeah, well, I grew up in a religious household in a religious community. For the most part, it was okay. I always had my grandparents, you know. But they passed, and now I’m having a baby out of wedlock…
It’s seen as a sin. I’m a disappointment.
A big one.” I sigh heavily, resigned to the fact that no matter what I do, I’ll never have my parents' approval.
“What about the baby's father?” His jaw works overtime. This is the most transparent I’ve been with anyone, and my heart rate increases when I think about sharing more. I haven’t told another person my story, but for some reason, Griffin makes it easy.
“I met him at church, actually. You know the type. Slacks, button-down ironed to within an inch of his life. Turns out, he doesn’t have a backbone.
He left town the day after I told him I was pregnant.
Doesn’t want anything to do with me or my baby.
” It’s sad, but it’s my reality. I want to change the subject, so I put the question to him. “What about you? Got a family?”
His jaw tics as his eyes remain glued to the road ahead. I don’t know why, but I feel like it’s a sore spot. The silence stretches, and I’m about to apologize for asking, but he speaks.
“Had a few. Grew up in foster care. Wouldn’t recommend it.”
I can feel his hurt and anger rolling off him in waves. My heart breaks a little for the boy Griffin was and what he obviously had to endure.
“Any siblings?”
His eye twitches, and I feel like I’m pushing too far, but I wait.
“One. A younger brother. He passed.” I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white.
“Looks like we’re both trying to find our way…
” My heart is nearly beating out of my chest, but I reach my hand out and place it palm up on the seat next to his thigh.
He spots the movement, his eyes flicking down, before his gaze meets mine and his nostrils flare as he takes a breath.
When he looks back at the road, I leave my hand there, hopeful.
And as we pull onto Main Street, his posture softens, his hand leaves the wheel, and his palm finds mine.
Our fingers lace, and he lifts my hand in his and rests it on his thigh.
I feel his thumb then, strumming my skin where we’re connected.
It’s a simple gesture, one of friendship, care, maybe a moment of solace in a world where we both feel so alone.
My hand feels small in his, but his grip doesn’t waver and neither does mine.
“I’m in Sundown Valley for a few days, then I’ll be back. You’ve got my number. You call me if you need anything.” He still looks straight ahead, but his tone is less grumbly than normal.
Smiling, I nod. “Sure. I’ll be in a whirl of stress trying to get the bakery ready.”
He gives my hand a squeeze. “Don’t lift anything, don’t rush, don’t work late…”
“You know, you’re bossy, but for a grump, you’re surprisingly gentle,” I murmur, watching our hands settle.
His lips twitch. “Don’t get used to it.”
I clamp my lips together so a smile doesn’t take over my whole face. I’m enjoying this moment. Enjoying his touch. Feeling a little more at ease with life.
If only that feeling lasted.