9. Lennon
Chapter 9
Lennon
Stay For A Little While
H ow the hell did I end up babysitting this huge-ass man tonight?
Not that it was the first time I’d ended up with a drunk idiot in my car, but it was the first time since I’d been at the orchard. A few spicy and tipsy moments, sure. I’d gone out with the girls plenty of times, resulting in a chorus of buzzy off-key singing.
I was happy to be the designated driver. Mostly, because I didn’t trust anyone else behind the wheel other than me. Nursing one drink was my MO on the few times we went out after hours.
The thought of going to a bar after working a long shift at the taproom wasn’t generally the first on any of our lists. But the occasional birthday, and with this orchard—bachelorette, for God’s sake—was worth a little buzzy shenanigans.
My current passenger was a few steps beyond buzzed.
It wasn’t the first time Hayes had put the hammer down with his moonshine, but I didn’t usually have to clean up the mess. Justin and Beckett had been felled by him, more than once to my knowledge. Even Kain, who could drink most people under the table, hadn’t been immune to the moonshine.
Now I could count his brother among the robust list.
Good thing I knew where the Starling was since Griffin had passed out before giving me directions.
I spared him a glance as I maneuvered the pitted back roads in the dark. His head was tipped back and his mouth slightly open with the lollipop stick resting in the corner of his lush mouth.
He’d cleaned up before coming back to the taproom. His beard now accentuated his sharp jaw, and his long neck had been scraped clean. The curl that had fallen forward with all the drunk jostling between me and Dean softened his features.
My wheel hit a dip, and I swore, dragging my attention back to the dark road.
My passenger slept on without a blip on his radar.
It would be interesting getting him into the… “Wow.”
His place came into view. It was a squared-off brick building, but I didn’t realize it was so big. Two softly-lit iron lanterns flanked a massive carved door that looked as if it should be a part of a grand estate, not this nondescript building.
But the fact that it didn’t exactly match was the wow factor.
Kain’s handiwork, I’d bet.
The front yard wasn’t exactly anything to write home about but it was neatly framed by a gravel drive. Winter grass was struggling into Spring mode all across the orchard, but it was still a flattened sad gray in my headlights.
Griffin’s beefy green truck peeked out from the side of the building.
I could probably dump him in the flatbed of his truck—if he didn’t wake up to unlock his door.
Sure, you can lift two-hundred pounds of dead-weight male.
“Okay, let’s do this,” I whispered to myself as I parked. Twisting in my seat, I nudged his shoulder. “Wakey, wakey.”
He groaned.
Well, at least he was taking verbal cues. Kind of.
I hopped out of my Jeep and jogged around to the passenger side. The brisk March air cut through my denim jacket. It had been a lot warmer when I’d gone into work, and I’d been too distracted to get my sweatshirt from my locker.
I flung open the door and poked him again.
He woke enough to rattle the lollipop along his teeth but ended in a sigh. “Pretty Lenny.”
“Who cares if I’m pretty,” I muttered.
Now I’d see if all the resistance training I’d been doing made any difference. Flair bartending actually required a bit more muscle strength than one would think. Especially for the amount of training I had to do.
I gave his cheek a light slap. “Wake up, Griffin.”
He made an annoyed huff. “Tired,” he mumbled.
“I know. So, let’s get you inside to sleep off your moonshine, big guy.”
He turned his head toward me and opened his eyes. Even in the dim beam of my overhead safety light, those green eyes gave me a jolt. Heavy lids blinked a few times before he zeroed in on me, then his full lips slid into a smile. “Hi.”
The urge to be snarky nearly overwhelmed me. It was my default way to deflect attention from men, but I had a feeling it would be sugar that would help me get him moving, not the vinegar.
“Hi.” It wasn’t hard to smile back at him. In fact, I often had to remind myself not to encourage him. Instead, I dropped my defenses, adding a friendly cajoling tone to my voice. “Want to help me out here?”
“Of course. Anything for you, Lenny.”
My gut tightened. I would not be charmed by this man. “Good, then let’s get your legs out here on the ground.”
“M’kay.” He rolled the lollipop then frowned and reached for the stick. He missed twice before finally pulling it free. “Mmm. Raspberries.” Then he tucked it back into his cheek. “Do you like raspberries?”
“Fresh ones with my Greek yogurt.”
Why the hell did I tell him that?
“Mmm. With honey.” He slid his arm around my shoulder and his spicy aftershave filled my head as he slid forward, resting one boot on the ground.
“Shit!” I braced for him to take us both out, but he reached up and caught the Oh, Shit handle.
He grinned down at me. “I was a Navy boy. I don’t fall.”
Surprised he mentioned Navy before musician, I swallowed hard, but I imagined a listing submarine lent him better balance than rowdy musicians.
His heavy arm pinned me to his side, which was just one slab of muscle. Possibly even more than Kain, and I didn’t think that was possible. Kain had a few inches on him in height, but whatever he’d been doing on the orchard since I’d seen him last, had definitely added some bulk to him.
And every inch of it was Velcro -ed to me.
He lowered his head to my braids and took a deep sniff. “I wondered what you would feel like sometimes. Smell like.”
I stilled against him, hating that I wondered too.
He slid out of the Jeep and put his other foot on the ground and straightened. He bumped into the door before staggering against me.
I wrapped my arm around his back. His shirt rode up and my hand made contact with his warm skin. I couldn’t pull back or I’d definitely dump him against the door again or at the worst, on the ground.
No matter what he said about his sea legs.
My fingers slid down to find his belt loops and used them for an anchor as we cleared the door. “Got your keys?”
“Nope.”
I paused against him, my other hand braced on the door. “I am not bringing you to my place.”
He chuckled. “Door’s open, Lenny.”
“You do know anyone could walk in,” I said, slamming my door.
His eyes glittered in the low light. “Nah. This place is safe. Safer than anywhere I’ve ever been.”
My chest burned.
He was right, but I couldn’t think about that right now.
“Okay, let’s get you inside.”
His arm settled on my shoulder again, dragging my face against his chest. “‘Kay.”
I shoved myself back so I could breathe in something other than clean laundry and spice. “You owe me for this one, my guy.”
“I’ll cook you breakfast.” He put his nose into my hair again. “I make a damn good breakfast.”
“Guys like you do.”
“Like me?” He chuckled. “You don’t know me.”
“Oh, I do.” I urged him forward, my gaze tight on the large door.
“ Pfft . I’m not a dog.”
“Sure, you’re not. Let’s just get you inside.”
He sighed. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. We’ll just get you inside, and you can soak your sore head in a shower in the morning.”
“No,” he said, drawing out the word. “Sorry you think so little of me. Of anyone.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Easier to ignore it, I shuffled him forward a few steps. He swayed against me, and I was entirely sure we were both going to hit the gravel, but then he straightened out and propelled us forward.
I bit back a groan at the four steps leading to his door. Old, chipped cement stairs would hurt if he pulled me down with him. I got to the railing and leaned him against it. “One sec, big guy.”
“I can do the stairs.” He lifted one foot.
I turned around, backing up the steps. “I know you can. You are the best drunk walker ever.”
He snorted.
I twisted to open the door and reached in for what I hoped was a light switch. It was a big one with a dimmer slider beside it. I clicked it on, and my breath backed up in my throat at what I found inside.
Not some big box of bachelor status chaos. Nope, it was thoughtful and gorgeous. The massive ceilings were utilized much like the taproom. Ornate rafters done in wrought iron framed out the boring flat ceiling.
Instead of sprayed black like in the taproom, these ones were white, showing off the iron work. But it was the huge window that stole all the oxygen in my lungs.
It was nearly the height of one wall and the darkness outside was like one big mirror.
I heard a fumbling outside, snapping me out of my trance. I rushed back out to find Griffin draped over the railing.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting some air.”
I sighed and dragged him up. “With a railing in your gut? I think not.”
He teetered a little, but that stupid smile was back on his face. “My hero.”
“Oh, brother.” I tucked myself under his arm again. “Let’s go, drunkie.”
We managed two stairs fairly easily. “I’m not as drunk as I was. Think the upside down helped.”
“If you say so. Just two more steps.”
“You’re really strong,” he said dreamily, as he stumbled up another step.
I gripped the other railing and tried to stabilize him, but finally, Mister-I-Never-Fall took us both out. I was able to swing us both around, so we didn’t end up following gravity back down to the ground.
The momentum tipped us toward the door instead, and I got the full effect of Griffin St. James against my body. Spicy aftershave was nothing on the full body press, especially when he knocked the breath out of me.
The force of it zipped through me, and I looked up at him.
He propped his hand on the door right above my head and his hips pinned my lower half. His jaw did that muscle twitch thing. The lollipop now gone, leaving only the hint of manufactured raspberry on his breath.
“Think you can get inside now?”
“Don’t want to.”
His hips shifted against me, and I resisted the urge to crawl up his stupid, hot body. It had been way too long since I’d been touched like this. Especially by anyone who felt this damn good.
And this was drunk Griffin. What would full faculties Griffin be like?
“Not gonna find out,” I whispered.
“How you taste?” he asked with a heavy-lidded smile.
“Nope.” I wriggled against him, and instead of getting him to move, there was one thing moonshine hadn’t handicapped. Damn.
He pushed away from the door—and me—and the space was enough to let me think again.
Too bad, he started teetering again.
I jammed my shoulder under his arm again and straightened him up. The only good thing about this whole thing was that he probably wouldn’t remember any of it the next day.
“Okay, in we go.” I shuffled him over to the wall. “Stay.”
“ Ruff .”
I rolled my eyes and let him go, my hands hovering over him for a moment.
“Don’t want to let me go, huh?”
“You fall now, and I’m leaving you on the floor. You can crawl to bed.”
He snickered. “Nah. You wouldn’t do that.”
“Don’t try me.” I pressed my hand to his chest for a second, my fingers digging lightly into his firm muscles before I let him go and hurried to close the door.
I glanced around at the loft space. It was all open floor plan with eclectic furnishings that shouldn’t work together yet made me want to take my time and look around.
“Where’s your bedroom?”
“Not sure how many times I dreamed about you saying that.” His eyes were closed and his head tipped back.
I didn’t have an answer for that one, so I ignored it.
Turned out I didn’t need to worry about it since he swayed on his feet, nearly passing out on me.
I hurried over and grabbed his arm. “Hey, don’t pass out on me or I’m leaving you on that couch.” He swayed again and opened heavy-lidded eyes.
“Hidden door,” he mumbled.
“Oh, and how am I supposed to find that?”
He turned his head, and I followed his gaze to a built-in bookcase with sheetrock. The only space that wasn’t a brick wall.
“Whose idea was that?”
He grinned. “Mine. Was how I got Kain to help.” A soft, sappy grin wreathed his face. “Secret.”
I helped him over to the bookcase, grinning when I saw the barn owl bookend. Had to be that one. I reached for it and pulled it forward and the whole bookcase swung inward.
The room was surprisingly spacious. Furnishings must have been put in here before it was walled off since he had a king-sized bed inside. The headboard reminded me of the honeycomb structure that had been added to the taproom behind my new neon sign.
Beachy driftwood colors dominated this wall feature and on either side of the bed were cabinets done in a soft gray that probably held clothes. We shuffled toward the bed, and he was definitely heading for blackout.
I slung him toward the bed, and he dropped like a stone, one leg on the bed, one dangling on the floor. His arms were outstretched, and his eyes were already shut.
Good deed done, I backed up to leave, but seeing his position, I knew he’d be a broken puppy if I left him like that.
Sighing, I went back to the bed, then I bent to untie his boot. It took some pulling, but I finally got it off, laughing when I found navy socks with pit bull dogs stitched into them. I lifted his leg, struggling to realign his body to get it on the bed, which left me straddling his calves.
I inched back to attack the laces on his other boot. “What is with the triple knots, man?” I finally pulled the knots free and tossed the boot over my shoulder.
Rising, I braced my hands on my hips. I was freaking winded, for God’s sake. “Good enough.”
There was no way I was getting him under the blankets. I scanned the room and spotted a fuzzy throw blanket on a bench at the end of his bed. I grabbed it and tossed it over him.
I pushed back the curl that fell onto his forehead. His face was smoothed out in sleep. Still so angular and rough. Especially his nose, which was endearingly crooked.
Okay, that was enough of those thoughts.
I stepped back, but he clamped a hand around my wrist. I tried to tug it away.
“Come to bed.”
“I’m going home to my bed.”
“Mmm. Here. Stay here.” He tugged and I yelped as I lost my balance, landing on his chest.
He rolled me under him, his thick arm clamped around my middle, as his heavy leg pinned the rest of me down.
“Griffin!”
He sighed against me. “Mmm. Stay.”
I sighed. “This is not comfortable.”
He curled his arm around me and dragged my back against his front in a perfect spoon position, his breath soft on my neck. “There. Stay for a little while.”
As if I had a choice.
And a little part of me wasn’t mad, which told me I should absolutely run right now.
But it had been a damn long time since someone held me.
Even if he was passed out cold.
I shifted against him and part of him was definitely still awake. I rested my head against his other arm with a sigh.
This was not how I pictured tonight going, but the gentle rhythm of his breathing behind me lulled me into the space between wakefulness and sleep. His warm hand slipped beneath my vest and layers of cotton.
I started to rouse, bracing for him to cop a feel, but he didn’t.
He just groaned out something unintelligible and softly stroked my belly with his thumb.
His heartbeat and the gentle touch, as well as the long night, finally dragged me under into sleep.