2. Griffin
Chapter 2
Griffin
You Know Who I Am
I knew seeing Lennon after four months was going to be a shot in the ass, but I hadn’t realized just how much. And the shot was more in my chest, center mass.
Damn, she was just as prickly as I remembered, but I’d only been close enough to catch her scent once. That day, I’d hopped the bar to help her with a stubborn tap. When I’d first arrived to find my nomadic brother hiding in this orchard, I’d practically lived at the taproom, trying to get to know him.
Instead, I’d caught feelings for the spicy bartender who ignored me with great relish.
That one moment, and her alluring scent, shouldn’t be living in my head, but they damn well were. I resisted the urge to drag in the heady amber and spicy ginger tones.
Not to mention, the urge to sink my fingers into all that hair of hers.
Knowing myself, I moved away from her to the bar. It had been a damn lonely winter, and I couldn’t be trusted not to piss her off by flirting with her.
Lennon was friendly when it came to those in her small circle—which didn’t include me, no matter how I’d tried.
And I wasn’t exactly putting my best foot forward. I’d been over at the Lark cottage with Beckett, Justin, and Kain, hauling out dead trees and debris from the brutal winter. Luckily, we’d only lost one old tree—she’d been a spectacular white ash with a massive canopy of delicate green leaves just starting to bud. Unfortunately, when we’d put the lines in to restore power to the outer cabins and old buildings, the line had hit one of her roots.
My brother, Kain, had taken it hard.
Keeping the land whole and healthy was a bedrock to his design sense, but the old tree would be repurposed for the cabin. According to Kain, ash wasn’t good for outdoor use. Instead, he’d brought on a local carpenter to use it in the kitchen for new cabinets, as well as a sturdy four-poster bed for the primary bedroom.
My brother’s brain was a wonder.
I was just along for the ride—and because of my sturdy back.
Along with the old apple pressing room I’d convinced Laverne to let me remodel and live in while I was staying at the orchard.
The blank slate of a space had sparked my brother’s architect lust and we’d been working on it all winter.
While slowly getting to know each other.
Slowly being the operative word.
Ronan wandered down to my end of the bar and set down another bottle. This one, just the dark brown glass with a number 37 on it. I grinned at him. “What are we testing now?”
“Depends.” When I arched a brow, he shrugged. “How’s it going at the Lark?”
“Good. We finally dug out that big ash tree and Justin and Beck are finishing up the replanting with an elm from the Finch cottage we had to clear out. The ash tree had more issues than just the underground power lines, but there’s still more than enough for Murray to play with.”
“That carpenter is going to buy a house with what we’re paying him to remodel these places.” I laughed. “Good thing Kain is family.”
Ronan snorted. “Laverne has him wrapped.”
As she had me in the same way, I understood completely. And I knew Ronan and Kain were as close as brothers—where I still had a ways to go there. But the people at this orchard were tight in ways I hadn’t seen since my days with...
Nope. Not going there right now.
I rubbed the center of my chest over the ache that never seemed to fully leave me, no matter how much manual labor I did at Brothers Three.
“Does that mean they’re done with you for the day?” Ronan’s smile was devilish.
I fiddled with my toothpick, swapping it to the other side of my mouth with a grin. “Sure does.”
“Excellent. This one is a bit high-octane.” He slid it towards him. When I reached for the bottle and tugged it away, Ronan laughed. “Let me know if it’s too much.”
“Is it ever?” I cracked the seal on the bottle and took a whiff.
“And why aren’t you asking me? You know, the head bartender?” Lennon’s brow arched as she folded her arms over her chest and rested her bottle on her forearm.
Ronan straightened and rubbed Ella’s back. “Because you’re going to be testing that Honey line, and I know you don’t like the dry ones.”
Lennon’s nose wrinkled. “Fair.” She took another sip of the Hot Honey. “This is really good, though. Are you putting this one on tap?”
Ronan nodded. “It’s my favorite of the first batch of new ciders. Kain is already hatching hot honey wings and some sort of sweet barbecue to go with it.”
“He’s always hatching something,” she murmured before taking another sip.
I was glad I still had my shades on and let my gaze drift over today’s black ensemble. The only color she ever wore, thanks to her vintage T-shirt collection. That, and the violet tone that peeked from her rich black hair.
My hair was deep brown, but Lennon’s was true black, which was generally ironed flat to waterfall down her back. Today, she had it pulled back in one of her intricate braids I associated with her in work mode.
Evidently, she wasn’t easing into the new season.
She wore inky black jeans with rips in the thigh and knee. A flash of tattoo teased from a rip at her upper thigh. My fingers tightened around the chilled bottle. I’d already pictured her in my bed far too many times, I didn’t need to add a tattoo to my fantasies.
Too late.
I transferred my toothpick behind my ear, and I took a sip to distract me from that track.
The dry cider fizzed against my tongue, leaving a ginger aftertaste. I lifted my gaze to Ronan’s. “That’s dangerous.”
He grinned back at me, transferring the baby from one shoulder to the other. The E on her little sock told me it was Ella. “Yeah, I fermented it a little too long, and it’s damn near fourteen percent.”
“Very dangerous.” I took another sip with a sigh. “Ginger and something else. Which apple?”
“This is why I make you taste. Your palate is nearly as good as mine.”
“Hmm.” Lennon hummed and wandered away from the bar to the back door.
I dragged my gaze away from her ass and back to the bottle in front of me.
Ronan gave me a slow grin.
“Don’t start.”
“Not starting.” He waggled his brows. “What else?”
I took another sip. “That ginger has some bite—in a good way. Bet this could be a base for a few different flavors of the week.”
“Huh. That’s an idea. It is a really good base. I try not to mess with too many different ones for the taproom, but it is small batch.”
“Bet it would make a good Moscow Mule, if it’s that spicy.” Lennon turned, and the sunlight streamed through her hair, the dark purple lit up like neon.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
Ronan pulled his little moleskin notebook out of his pocket.
I noticed his struggle and reached across the bar to take the baby.
“Not with those dirty hands, Griffin.” Kira came over and took the baby. She’d already put Amelia back in the pen.
Ronan gave Ella a final nuzzle before transferring her to Kira. “Thanks, Sunshine.” Then he started scribbling furiously.
Leaving him to the brewmaster haze, I wandered away from the bar with my bottle, my screaming yellow Crocs quiet on the hardwood. A present from Kain when we’d started lunching at the taproom last week. He assumed I’d be insulted by the duck yellow and the little rude pins he’d added.
Me? That said he was starting to like me.
And I liked yellow.
I’d swapped my mud-caked boots for the Crocs, knowing I’d hear the wrath of Kira if I tracked crap into her establishment. The taproom was still in the cleaning and opening phase. They’d have a few events like St. Patrick’s Day, Teaser Tuesdays, and a few other ideas Kira and Bells had come up with before fully opening for Memorial Day.
Which would coincide with the local showcase that was my domain.
Absently, I dragged the pad of my thumb over the calluses on each fingertip. Having music around me again was dredging up a lot of bullshit I thought I’d buried.
I wandered outside to find Lennon and found her at the large swing at the top of the hill looking over the valley with the orchard below. The trees were slowly coming out of their slumber. The winter had been especially bitter, and Justin and Beckett had worried about the ice, causing a slow start to the spring blooms.
But the sun and a stretch of warm days had created a flurry of movement. Beckett spent most of his days checking over the fields with the skeleton sprint crew, while Justin and I had taken to the backbreaking work of opening the cabins and cottages.
Kain had been back and forth between Hawaii and the orchard to help out with a few of the larger, more intricate remodels like mine. I’d wanted a cool bird for the name of my place—maybe even my namesake—but Kain had named it the Starling.
Which made the skin between my shoulders itch.
While we’d been talking more, I still hadn’t told him about my life before the orchard. We were more about sweaty remodeling and a drink while watching rugby or hockey before he escaped to Bells.
I couldn’t blame him. If I had a woman like her waiting for me, I’d be in a hurry to get home too.
And that left my gaze drifting back to Lennon who was pushing the swing into a creaky rhythm with her boot as she sipped from her bottle.
“Think we need to oil those chains again.”
She glanced over at me. “Yeah, maybe.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Lenny.”
“I think I prefer the annoying darlin’ to that one.”
I grinned. “Now I’ll have to exclusively use Lenny if it bugs you.”
“You would,” she said, but there was a smile flirting with her lips as she took a long drink. “You guys have been busy since I was gone.”
“We were trapped up here most of the winter. Good thing Laverne kept us fed while Ronan and Kira did the nesting thing with the twins.” I shivered. “Freaking two babies. I don’t know how they do it.”
She shook her head. “That’s a nope from me. I’m not sure I even want one, let alone two at once.”
“Pretty sure it wasn’t on Kira’s first baby list.”
“Definitely not.” She glanced back at me. “You want the kid thing, Griffin?”
That was a question that had been on my mind a lot lately. I wrapped my fingers around the back of the swing and gave her a push. She yelped and pulled up her feet to cross them under her. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never landed anywhere long enough to consider it.”
“Me neither. Something about this place, though.” She stared out on the valley below and we were quiet as the chain creaked with each push.
I understood what she meant. There was a magic to the orchard that made me want to stick around. But to build a life?
That was a lot to consider.
“Tired of life on the road?” she asked quietly.
The swing bumped me as I was startled enough not to pay attention. I pushed her once more. “So, you know who I am?”
“I do. It took me a while to place you, though.”
“When did you figure it out?”
“Reversal of Fortune wasn’t exactly my music. Marc Justice is too cocky for my taste. But I passed your poster every night on the way to the bar I worked at during your residency. It didn’t click until I was in Vegas this past December.”
The residency was what finally broke us.
It had been our ten-year anniversary as a band, and we’d been on the verge of imploding for four of them. Marc, our lead vocals, and Baron Ramos, our bass player, had made the clichéd mistake of sleeping with the same girl—our drummer.
Fuck, it had been a mess.
Irene Carr was sinfully sexy and dead inside, I was pretty sure. She’d gotten off on playing Baron and Marc against one another since the day we’d formed the band. The tension between the three of them had created some of the best lyrics and music we’d ever written.
Until the tension had turned into a powder keg.
I shook off the memory.
“That was two years ago,” I said gruffly.
“I’m a bartender. I have a damn good memory. There a reason you’re keeping it on the downlow?”
I sighed. “People treat me differently when they figure it out.”
“Not sure how a famous rockstar guitarist can fly under the radar at a place like Brothers Three. You know who Laverne’s son-in-law is, right?”
I frowned. “No, why?”
She laughed. The melody of it hit me low, tightening my jeans.
Dammit, this attraction to her was damn inconvenient.
“Her daughter is Lila Crandall.”
The name was vaguely familiar. I tried to flip through my own memory banks. Being a musician was damn incestuous between writing, producing, and the session artists who were used in studio.
When I didn’t reply right away, she sighed. “Nick Crandall.”
“Well, fuck.” We’d never toured with Oblivion, but we’d done plenty of festivals over the years where we’d overlapped.
She twisted in the swing. “Yeah.”
“And that would be why there is a very well-built concert stage just down that path.”
“Look at that, you are a quick one.”
I came out from behind the swing to sit on the other side of it. “Not quick enough.”
More like I hadn’t wanted to know any details. Living in the moment had been one of my greatest superpowers since I’d turned seventeen and signed up for the Navy. It had seemed the easiest way off the big island. There’d been nothing in Hawaii for me. I sure as shit hadn’t wanted to work in hospitality like my mother.
I had learned to keep my head down and do anything to survive.
“Does anyone else know?” She set her empty bottle on the ground and turned to me.
“Justin figured it out when he heard me playing at the Lodge.” I kicked out my foot to set the swing back to swaying. “I couldn’t sleep and was wandering around the common area. I wondered why there were guitars hanging on the wall. Now it makes sense.” It had also been the first time I’d picked up a guitar in two years.
“Lots of music happens at this orchard. You didn’t run into the Oblivion guys during the holiday?”
I shook my head. “I went to Hawaii to see Leilani.”
Lennon chuckled. “So, you just missed them.”
“Pretty much. I wondered why Justin didn’t mention it.”
She shrugged. “They’re pretty protective of the band here. It’s a miracle you haven’t run into Ian Kagan. He’s married to one of the Manning siblings.”
“So, that’s Zoe.” I whistled. “Hell, I guess no one will give a shit who I am around here.”
She patted my knee. “You’re still special.”
I arched a brow at her.
She unfolded her legs and slid off the swing. “I better go back up there and try the other ones in the Honey line.” She bent to pick up her bottle, then she made her way down the hill to the patio and back inside.
I watched.
That ass would haunt me for days, so I might as well enjoy it.
Then I set the swing to rocking again.
I had some explaining to do. I just hoped it wouldn’t screw up my place at the orchard.