Thirteen Days and Counting
Griff
I arrived at the shop thirty minutes early but didn't enter. Instead, I stopped just outside the back door and stared good and hard.
The door was open.
Again.
I didn't mean unlocked.
I meant open. Sure, it wasn't wide open. It was just cracked, but I still didn't like it. One good push, and anyone could've walked in.
I recalled those two asshats who'd tried to scare me off. They hadn't succeeded, but that didn't mean they wouldn't try again.
What if they tried with Maisie?
Fuck. What if they did worse?
My jaw clenched at the thought.
It had been six days since their little visit. Yes, I was counting. In no coincidence, it had been six days since Maisie and I had first slept together.
These had been six of the best days of my life, and I wasn't eager to mix things up.
But that scene with Sierra – it was a good wakeup call.
It was time to tread more carefully, and Maisie should be doing the same, especially when it came to safety.
I gave the door a shove but didn't step inside, not even when I saw Maisie sitting at the back table, shuffling through bike-rental forms. She looked up, but she didn't smile.
I didn't either. "So, what's with the door?"
She gave it a quick glance. "Nothing."
I stated the obvious. "It was open." And it was still open, because I hadn't moved from the doorway.
"Yeah, I know," she said. "I was the one who left it that way."
We'd had this conversation already, but hey, I wasn't gonna let that stop me. "Why?"
"So you could get in."
"I've got a key, remember?"
"Of course I remember. I was the one who gave it to you."
Maisie had given it to me the day after we'd first slept together, when I'd offered to take down the tent. I'd kept the key, and she hadn't asked for it back – which was convenient in more ways than one.
Finally, I moved forward and shut the door behind me. I didn't slam it. I didn't press hard. But I did lock it to make a point.
Would she get the message?
Probably not.
The truth was, we generally kept it unlocked during the day, but we sure as hell didn't keep it open.
She knew this. Hell, she had agreed to keep it shut, if only as a favor to me. Was this some kind of message?
Favor revoked?
As if reading my mind, she said, "I didn't do it to irritate you, if that's what you're thinking."
Interesting. "So why did you?"
"Because I saw you coming down the street. You were like two minutes away, so I figured I'd do you a favor." She shrugged. "Save you some trouble."
This wasn't the favor I wanted. "Yeah? Well, the original favor was keeping it locked.
" Was I overstepping? Maybe . But those two gangster wannabees were still on my mind, even if they weren't on Maisie's.
Still, I didn't want to be dick about it, so I deliberately softened my tone. "Better safe than sorry, right?"
"Probably," she said with a half-hearted smile. "I mean…there's always Sierra."
I wasn't following. "What do you mean?"
"I just mean…well, she seems the type to barge in without an invitation." She gave a hollow laugh. "If you're not careful, she might show up at your place."
I considered the shithole that Ryder had put me in. With a humorless laugh of my own, I said, "I'd pay good money to see that."
Confusion registered in her eyes. "Really? Why?"
"Because the place is a dump. Trust me, she'd hate it."
"Oh. Right." She cleared her throat. "So where is it, anyway?"
"Where's what?"
"Your place."
The boathouse? "It's not my place," I corrected. "It's just where I'm staying."
Maisie frowned. "But that's the same thing."
"How so?"
"Like…if you rent an apartment, it's still your place even if you don't own it."
"Yeah, well trust me when I say I'm outta that place the moment the month is up." Already, I'd been scoping out nicer properties on the island – places I wouldn't mind bringing Maisie without disinfecting it first.
Her frown deepened. "And when is that, exactly?" She paused. "I mean, how many more days 'til you're done?"
I had checked just this morning. "Thirteen." Some might call this unlucky. I didn't. It meant that soon, I'd be saying goodbye to the shithole – and hello to someplace new – at least through the end of the summer.
And after that?
Well, we'd have to work it out, that's all.
But judging from Maisie's expression, the number wasn't sitting so great – and not because of superstition. Her fingers toyed with the edge of a rental form on the table. "So…I should probably be lining up your replacement, huh?"
I frowned. Replacement? What replacement? "Maisie – "
"Don't worry." She smiled. "It's fine. I get it. Totally."
I searched her face. "You get what?"
"Well…we agreed in the beginning it was only for a month, so I'm just saying, it's not like you should feel like you can't leave."
What the hell? My throat tightened as I moved forward. "We are talking about the job, right?"
She didn't answer right away. And when she did, her voice was almost too quiet to hear. "I don't know. Are we?"
"Is that what you want?" I asked. "Me gone in thirteen days?"
She stared up at me. "Is that what you want?"
She hadn't answered my question, but this was no time to be coy. "Hell no." I leaned over the table and looked her straight in the eyes. "Sorry if I've given that impression, but the way I see it, things have changed."
She gave a hard swallow. "But you just said you're gonna move – "
"Yeah, from the place I'm living now , but that doesn't mean it's the end of us." Something twisted in my chest as I reluctantly finished the thought. "Unless that's what you want."
She let out a long, unsteady breath. "No. It's not, actually. But…" She bit her lower lip and never did finish.
"But what?" I prompted.
"But…well, it would be really nice if I knew more about you."
I went for a joke. "That's what you think."
But Maisie didn't laugh. She didn't even smile. "I'm serious," she said. "I don't even know your name."
My response was automatic. "It's Griff. You know that."
Her mouth tightened. "Griff what?"
Fuck. I didn't want to say. Not yet. That scene with Sierra was still too fresh for my liking, reminding me that things could get weird really fast.
But this wasn't about Sierra. It was about Maisie. Back in the beginning, when she'd figured me for some silver spoon jackass, she'd been different.
We'd been different.
For whatever reason, she hadn't truly let down her guard until I'd told her that I'd grown up in a trailer.
Of course, the trailer was just the beginning.
The rest of it was the real issue. And there was something I wanted to handle before giving her the full story. It was a good plan. Call it a nice surprise for her – except now she was staring like I'd just tried to ghost her without warning.
In a small voice, she asked, "So you still don't want to tell me?"
I forced a laugh. "What, my last name?"
She crossed her arms. "That was the question."
I didn't want to be an asshole. This was Maisie . I'd held her naked. I'd stroked her hair while she slept. I'd heard her story and told her some of mine. Her question wasn't unreasonable, and only a dick would think so. Before I could overthink it, I heard myself say, "It's Griffin."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Sorry, what?"
"That's my last name."
"Really?" Her expression cleared. "Ohhhh. I get it."
Well, that made one of us. I said nothing.
She continued with a little laugh. "Griff Griffin, huh? You must've loved that, growing up."
She was reading it wrong. But I gave her a faint smile and let it slide – for now. We could save the sorting for later. First, I had some questions of my own. "Now you tell me something."
"What?"
"That loan you mentioned last week – what's the status?"
She shook her head. "The status?"
"Yeah. What's going on?" She didn't look happy with the question, but I wasn't about to let it drop. One way or another, I would be finding out.
Preferably today.