Surprise in the Dark
Griff
It was nearly ten o'clock at night when I let myself in through the back door of the shop.
I moved quietly, out of habit more than necessity. As expected, the place was dark except for the narrow beam of my flashlight.
So far, so good.
But then, I froze as the beam landed on a familiar figure sitting at the work table.
What the hell?
My breath caught. It was Maisie.
She was curled up in the oversized wooden chair with her knees tucked up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, like she'd been sitting that way for a while.
I swallowed hard as I drank in the sight of her. "What are you doing here?"
With something between a scoff and a laugh, she replied, "Now that's a funny question."
Just seeing her was a balm to my soul, and I stopped to savor it before asking, "Why?"
"Because it's my shop." Her mouth quirked at the corners. "So, if anything, I should turn the question on you."
And yet, she didn't.
It was a good thing, because I wasn't ready to answer. Looking to change the subject, I asked, "So you're working late?"
As soon as I asked it, I felt like a fool – because everyone knows you do your best bike repair in the dark. I shut my mouth and lowered the beam of the flashlight, pointing it downward to keep from blinding her.
But even in shadows, the sight of her sitting there, soft and sweet, tugged at me in ways I didn't like to name.
Maisie, being Maisie, was too nice to point out just how dumb I'd sounded. Working late. In the dark. Yeah, right.
Instead, she said with a tentative smile, "I wanted to talk."
Suddenly, breathing wasn't so easy. Seeing her now, I wanted to do more than talk. I wanted to gather her close and nuzzle her neck. I wanted to feel her melt into my arms like she used to. I wanted to kiss her senseless and feel her kissing me back.
And hey, while I was at it, I wanted to press her up against the wall and make both of us forget the shittiness of the last few days.
From the look on Maisie's face, her thoughts weren't so different.
I would've moved forward then and there, but a lot of this wasn't adding up. If I wanted to be a dick, I'd start by giving her grief for sitting here alone after hours.
Just the thought of it made my stomach twist. I wasn't the only one who might've come through that door.
With an effort, I shoved those thoughts aside and asked, "Then why didn't you call?"
As for myself, I'd been on the verge of calling her at least a hundred times, maybe more. But I hadn't – not because I hadn't wanted to, but because I didn't know what to say.
She replied, "Because I wanted to talk in person. And before you ask, I did go to your place first."
M y place? The shithole? Now that surprised me. "When?"
"Around eight. But you weren't there." She rubbed her arms like the memory gave her a chill. "I waited on the steps for maybe an hour, hoping you'd show, but well…you never did."
Shit. The thought of her waiting there – with its questionable hygiene and rickety stairs – wasn't sitting so great in my gut.
Yeah, it made no sense, considering that her disgust with the place had been the wedge that drove us apart. But that was something to think about later, when I wasn't lost in her eyes.
Somehow, I managed to say, "So you came here?"
"Yeah." She hesitated. "You're not angry, are you? I mean…I guess this might feel like a little bit like an ambush."
Even if it was, I didn't have the right to be angry. "Hey, it's your place." But then, I couldn't stop myself from adding, "But you shouldn't be here alone, especially at night."
"I'm not alone," she said with the hint of a smile. " You're here."
It was a pretty thought, but way too na?ve. "Yeah, but what if it wasn't me?"
Her smile faded. "But you're the only one with a key."
As she said it, it belatedly struck me that she hadn't asked what I was doing here. This could only mean one thing. She'd been expecting me all along.
That was the meaning of ambush, wasn't it?
Shit.
She knew.
But how?
And then it hit me.
Franny.
Wasn't there a saying? Franny knows everything.
Earlier today, Ryder had said something about Franny stopping by the shop. Whatever she'd said to Maisie, it had prompted quite a change – enough to make Maisie wait in the darkness like she knew I'd be coming.
But did she know why?
No. She couldn't, because for one thing, I'd been keeping my activities to myself.
I was still piecing things together when Maisie said, "Listen, I've got something to say."
My reply slipped out before I could stop it. "Me, too." Hell, I had a million things to say. But where to begin? And how far to go? I'd been miserable without her – a sorry, cantankerous bastard who could barely get out of bed.
And considering the bed in question, that was really saying something.
I opened my mouth to start talking, but she held up a hand. "Hang on. Let me go first. Please?"
Her eyes were soft in the dim light, and as she stared from the other side of the table, I couldn't have denied her anything, not even my heart.
I nodded. "Alright, ladies first."
Slowly, she uncurled herself from the chair and got to her feet. She blew out a long trembling breath. "Okay, here it is. I'm really sorry."
I blinked. "Sorry for what?"
"The other day, when I saw your place…" She glanced away, and her voice dropped to a near whisper. "I didn't realize it would be so bad."
I stiffened. So this was about the apartment?
Maisie was still talking. "I mean, you said it was a dump, but I didn't realize that…well…it was so dumpy." But then she blanched. "Wait…you're not insulted, are you? I mean, I don't want to be rude. I know it's your place and all…"
I cut her off with a scoff. "I'm not married to it, if that's what you think."
"I know. But…well…I was just wondering if you'd rather stay with me?"
My heart just about stopped. I hadn't seen that coming.
My throat went suddenly tight. In my mind, I could already see it – me and Maisie cuddled up in a decent bed with warm sheets and plenty of privacy.
But the bed wasn't all. It was the image of us, sitting on her wide front porch, watching the sunset and drinking whatever. Sometime last week, she'd mentioned wanting a porch swing. I could buy her one in a heartbeat and have it installed as a surprise.
It would make her smile in that special way I always liked.
The image was nice, and I was still savoring it when she said with a little wince, "But I should say first that I'd need to check with Tessa. I mean, she said it was okay once, but we haven't talked much in the last day or so…and um, I just want to make sure it's fine."
It was vintage Maisie – thoughtful to a fault. Man, this girl was a keeper.
She perked up. "But I'm almost sure she'll say yes. And even if she doesn't, well…" She gave a nervous little laugh. "Don't worry. We can always work it out."
Those were a lot of words, and I was loving the sounds of them.
But more than that, I loved what it meant. She wanted me as a regular guy who lived in a dump and repaired bikes. I smiled at the irony. She wanted the Griff from fifteen years ago.
But hey, I was still that guy underneath.
And besides, I'd learned something during the past few weeks. I missed being that guy – an anonymous Joe who worked with his hands and didn't spend his evenings dodging social climbers looking for a fix.
And now, looking at Maisie – with her eager eyes and soft smile – something inside me melted. This wasn't about my bank account. Or my skyline apartment. It was about us.
Her and me.
It hit harder than I wanted to admit.
And yet, I couldn't help but wonder, Why the change?
What exactly had Franny told her?
Carefully, I asked, "For how long?"
Her smile faltered. "Well…I know you're only here for another week."
It was a little longer than a week, but who was I to quibble? And besides, if things played out the way they were looking, I wouldn’t be going anywhere.
Not without Maisie.
I was breathless and tongue-tied at the thought.
When I said nothing, she kept going. "But you could stay a little longer – or a lot longer – if you want." She hesitated. "And we could make your job totally official, like I tried to earlier."
Nope.
But I didn't say it.
I didn't need her money. I didn't want her money.
I wanted to spend my money on her – not the other way around.
And as far as the pay, my going rate would break the bank. I knew this, just like I knew that I was still missing a big chunk of the puzzle. But seeing her standing there, all soft eyes and undisguised hope, I couldn't bring myself to care.
Not now.
I'd been missing her so much it hurt.
Sure, I still had questions. But only a jackass would push for answers when she was looking at me like I was the only guy she’d ever wanted, dump and all.
It was the kick I needed. Before I could overthink it, I was striding around the table as she rushed to me to meet me halfway.
When our lips met, it felt like coming home.
Tomorrow we could talk. But tonight, all I wanted was to hold her.
And more.