10. Griffin
Chapter 10
Griffin
Moonshine Troubles
W aking with a woman in my arms wasn’t a bad way to start the day.
Too bad I didn’t remember how she got there. I tried to think my way through the hangover fog. It had been a few months since I’d been this far gone with alcohol. The last time had been…
Ugh.
Also, with the damn Manning brothers.
A tangle of dark hair teased my neck, and I was about to reach up to pluck one long strand out of my mouth when I realized my hand was firmly under a shirt.
A very warm place, to be sure. Especially since the rest of me was damn cold because my guest was wrapped in the lone blanket in this situation. Even her face was covered.
Sweet fucking hell—what had I done?
Not Ronnie.
Please tell me you didn’t pick up that waitress.
She’d been more than interested, and I couldn’t have been that stupid. Suddenly, an achingly familiar scent dented my panic.
The woman wiggled back against me, and I bit back a groan. Hangover or no hangover, Lennon Hathaway would always have me standing at attention.
Her warm skin was softer than I could have imagined, but her compact body was all fluid muscle and curves that fit me a little too perfectly.
Dangerously perfect.
And because she was in my arms, I indulged in the weight of her against me. I dragged in the scent of her hair, which was so different than the warm spice of her perfume. Lennon wasn’t the type to linger in anyone’s space, let alone mine.
Her in my bed was obviously a mistake. We were still wearing clothes, which was something. I damn well would remember every second of getting naked with this woman.
I blew out a breath and stared at my ceiling, trying to recall anything from the night before. Moonshine with Hayes—that fucker—and Laverne. Something sweet and spicy from the kitchen, and then…we’d ended up here.
Somehow.
Lennon shifted against me again with a little groan, scooting lower into the heat of my body. My hand, which was already under her shirt, now cupped her breast.
And it fit like it was made for me.
Jesus.
How did we end up like this?
Was she going to wake up and de-ball me?
She wiggled again, this time, rolling over. My fingers slid around to her back, and I wasn’t sure which was worse. A handful of her glorious breast or having both of them pressing against my chest as she tucked her face into my neck.
With her thigh tucked between my legs, there was nothing but warm Lennon touching every part of me.
A perfect tangle of limbs.
Which never happened.
The first time I slept with a woman— actual sleeping—it was always a bit awkward. Not like this.
I pressed my cheek to the side of her head and absorbed the closeness.
I didn’t deserve it, but just then, I didn’t care.
It filled in an ache I wasn’t aware I’d been living with.
I coasted my hand up under her shirt to her shoulder, then down to the dip of her lower back and returned for another pass.
She sighed against my neck all liquid, soft female in my arms.
For a moment.
Then she sucked in a breath and stiffened in my embrace.
I was tempted to fake sleeping. Would she just slip out of my bed and disappear?
Could I pretend it never happened?
“How long have you been awake?” Her voice was as husky and warm as a good whiskey.
“A few terrifying minutes.”
I could feel her lips curve against my neck. Was that a smile?
Or was she preparing to push her knee up and bounce my balls into my throat?
“We’re still wearing clothes.”
“Unfortunately,” I muttered, without thinking.
She pushed me onto my back and tossed her leg over my thighs until she straddled both of them, and each hand was braced on my shoulders. “Is that so?” Her long black hair was half in and out of the braids she wore last night and fell forward to pool around my shoulders.
Her vest had unbuttoned sometime in the night, leaving just those skintight tank tops covering her mouthwatering breasts. She wore a series of golden chains that dangled over me in her position.
“Fuck, Lennon.”
She grinned down at me. “You can say my full name.”
“I’ll say it all damn day and night if you want.” My hand slipped out of her clothing to grip her hip and the other rose to thread into the hair at the nape of her neck.
Her dark lashes lowered as she perused my body, my mouth, and finally, her gaze lifted back up to meet mine. “Good to know.”
Then she slid off me and got off the bed. “Got any coffee and breakfast?”
“I can manage that.”
“Good.” She sauntered into the en suite bathroom and closed the door.
I draped my arm over my face as I dragged in a deep lungful of breath. What the hell did that mean?
And could you expire from an erection?
Then she popped her head through a crack in the door. “Toothbrush? I’m assuming you don’t want me to use yours.”
I did not have a comeback for that one, either.
Were we in a parallel universe?
“Under the sink, there’s a few backups.”
“Sweet.” Then she closed the door again.
I rolled off the bed and nearly tripped over one of my boots. Guess that answered a few questions.
At least, she’d helped me get them off.
A quick flash of her falling on top of me flitted through my memory banks and then flickered off like a television set getting unplugged.
I picked up my boots and brought them with me to shove them in the closet near the front door. I opened the front door and saw her deep violet Jeep in my driveway.
My place was a bit more out of the way than most of the properties, but the persistent engine of the backhoe we’d been using to clear dead brush was far too close.
Beckett and Justin were probably working on the Blackbird cottage, which was just over the hill from the old pressing building—aka my place.
Hell.
I patted my back pocket with a curse. I didn’t even know where my damn phone was. Would they come looking for me?
I tipped back my head. That wouldn’t be good.
Which would have to be a problem for later today.
I hurried over to the slim half bath tucked in a hidden corner of the room to take care of the more pressing concerns. I winced at my haggard face after I emptied my bladder.
My mouth tasted like death.
Moonshine went down smooth, but the aftermath wasn’t kind.
I opened the tiny medicine cabinet hidden behind the mirror. “Thank you, Laverne,” I whispered, as I found the travel toothbrush and toothpaste along with a small bottle of Advil.
She’d come in snooping after Kain had finished the majority of the renovations. In true Laverne fashion, she’d stocked the bathrooms.
After I brushed my teeth and washed up, I escaped to the kitchen.
Lennon was still in my bathroom, and by the sound of it, she was taking a shower.
I groaned.
Now I could imagine her in there too.
Pushing that thought out of my brain, I opened the fridge and pulled out omelete fixings. I found a roll of tin biscuits. Not like homemade, but they would do in a pinch.
With the oven preheated, I put them in to cook, made a quick pot of coffee, then cut up red peppers, scallions, and the leftover bacon from lunch the day before.
By the time she came out, I was pouring the egg mixture into a pan.
“Smells good,” she said, from behind me.
I turned to her with a smile and damn near burned my hand. She was wearing my Johnny Cash T-shirt, which was big enough to slip off her shoulder. Definitely no bra or tank underneath.
Fuck me .
“Hope you don’t mind. I wasn’t exactly prepared for a sleepover.” She came up beside me, her fingers quickly braiding her wet hair. “Your shower is A+.”
Quickly, I turned back to the pan and tested the edges of the eggs to make sure it wasn’t burning. “No, not at all.” I cleared my throat. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, making her look impossibly young. Thank God she’d put on her jeans, or I’d have her on the counter, damn the consequences.
“Do I smell buttery biscuits too?”
“You do. You’re not gluten free, are you?” I glanced down at her, my gut tightening at her bare feet peeking from the frayed cuffs of her skinny black jeans.
“God, no.” She opened one of the narrow cabinets over my coffee maker. “You need a life preserver for these mugs.”
“I like a trough with my coffee.”
“Evidently.” She grinned and padded over to the fridge, holding the Snickers creamer my brother preferred. “Cream?”
“Just black for me.”
“And yet…” She dangled the bottle.
“Kain.”
“Ah.” She snickered. “Tracks. That boy has a sweet tooth.” She sniffed the pot of coffee then added a healthy splash of creamer into the red mug before taking a large sip with a hum of pleasure. “Good stuff. Did you get this from that café over in Crescent Cove?”
I laughed. “How’d you know?”
“I’m addicted to Brewed Awakening’s coffee. Every time I go out that way, I get a bag of her seasonal beans.” She nudged the black mug my way. “How’s the head?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“I just bet.” She grinned over the rim of her mug.
I flipped the omelette just before it browned too much, then I took a quick sip of my own coffee before I got out some cheese.
“So, what are we doing here?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Breakfast.” The timer chimed out of my surround sound speakers.
“Jeez.”
I laughed. “Sorry. Have Alexa hooked up to everything.” I called out to shut off the timer as I pulled out my lobster mitt from a drawer beside the stove.
She stepped back as I opened the oven door and pulled out the tray.
“You can grab plates from the bottom drawer behind you.”
She spun around and gave me an ‘ooh, fancy,’ look as she pulled out two deep green plates.
“When you have a famous architect design your kitchen, you get bougie.”
“I take it you two are getting along better.”
I shrugged, happy to talk about anything but her previous question. “More like I gave him carte blanche, an unlimited budget, and he was intrigued enough to entertain the idea.”
“You didn’t have any input?”
I dumped the shredded cheese onto the omelette and folded it, covering the top with more cheese and putting a lid on it before turning down the heat. “Actually, ended up more of a collaborative thing. Why?”
“I like it.” She cupped the mug in her hands and walked out of the kitchen toward the window. “Unexpected,” she added softly, as she looked outside.
I peeked at the massive omelette, then I pulled it off the burner to let it steam a minute. I dumped the biscuits into a bowl with a towel to keep them warm and brought them and the dishes over to my kitchen table to quickly set it.
She turned with the window at her back, sun gilding her dark hair like flame.
I really didn’t know what we were doing.
Did I go for it or play it safe?