14. Griffin
Chapter 14
Griffin
Black Cat To the Max
H er apartment building was an impersonal structure, tucked in the back of a winding road at the edges of Turnbull. It was a quick trip and the conversation was nonexistent.
It had been an intense day and if I had any knowledge of the woman beside me, she was probably angling for a way to put up a wall or two between us.
I started to pull into a parking spot, but she touched my arm. “You can just drop me at the door.”
Wall number one.
“Sure.”
She unbuckled her seatbelt before I even came to a stop. “Thanks.”
I caught the strap of her ridiculous bag before she could slip out the door. She glowered over her shoulder, which should have made me let her go.
Too bad for her I enjoyed her prickly side. I dragged her back across the bench seat of my truck and covered her mouth in a quick, hard kiss.
Her dark eyes went soft for a moment as she opened them before they sharpened. “We’re not dating.”
“Too scary a thought for you, Lenny?”
Her lips thinned. “No.”
“I’ll pick you up for your shift tomorrow. Not sure I can get the tires replaced by tomorrow.”
“I’ll catch a ride, don’t worry.”
“But I do worry.” My gaze drifted to her lips one more time, then down to the stolen shirt where her nipples pushed against the ancient cotton. At least her body couldn’t lie about wanting more of me. “I like seeing you in my truck.”
“Don’t get used to it.” She scooted forward and pushed out the door. “Thanks for the ride and the tires,” she said before slamming the door and rushing inside the building.
She didn’t look back.
Annoyed that it bothered me, I gunned my engine as I roared out of the parking lot and back on the winding road that would feed me back into town.
A text came through my in-dash screen.
“If you can tear yourself away, we’re at Lucky’s.”
A beer sounded good right about now. Instead of heading back to the orchard, I continued into downtown. Since it was still warm, there were quite a few cars and trucks in Lucky’s parking lot.
That and March Madness was in full effect. Basketball was a big draw in this area. I’d never been overly interested in that particular sport, but I appreciated the excitement during finals.
I parked at the back of the lot and followed a crowd of guys who looked as if they’d come from a construction site. Once inside, I scanned the busy sports bar. It was all wood and neon with plenty of old school beer signs. A trio of women manned the bar, reminding me instantly of Lennon.
They didn’t have her grace, but they were efficient as hell.
Beckett turned with a pint in his hand, waving at me. He turned back to the bartender and another pint of whatever was on tap slid in front of him. He nodded to the top deck of tables.
I met him at the stairs and took the beer he offered. “Just an IPA.”
“Good enough for me.”
“Had a busy day, did you?” Beckett shoved his ever-present Yankees cap back with a grin.
“No comment.”
He slapped my shoulder, and I bit back a wince. I had a fair bit of claw marks from Lennon back there. “I heard you were pretty sloppy last night, son.”
I sighed. “Hayes shared his new honey pear moonshine. I believe the proof level had to be in the stratosphere.”
“First batch always is. Why I never try it.” He headed up the stairs with a laugh.
“Now you tell me,” I called after him.
He got to the top and grinned over his shoulder. “We all have to learn the hard way. Just ask Justin.”
“Ask Justin what?”
I got to the top of the stairs to see Justin with a Guinness and a shot glass beside him along with a paper with a grid on it. “Why didn’t you warn me about Hayes and his first batches?”
Justin grinned, white teeth gleaming from his tanned skin. He was already browning in the early spring sun we’d been enjoying. “Did you end up with your face in the bowl?”
“No, thank God.” I slid into a chair in front of him. “Just don’t remember much of my evening.”
Justin’s eyebrows disappeared into the shadow of his own ballcap. Where Beckett was loyal to one hat, and one woman—his wife, Helena—Justin was all over the map with his caps. Today was a well-loved Buffalo Bills cap that matched his red plaid shirt over a black T-shirt streaked with mud.
“How the hell did you get muddy today?”
“Well, I worked today, unlike a certain someone.”
I took a sip from the foamy IPA. “Not a topic of discussion.”
“Yet.” Beckett spun his chair around and straddled it, cupping his rough hands around his glass.
Ignoring him, I glanced at Justin. “Who’s your car guy?”
“Depends on what you need.” Justin flipped the paper in front of him around and slid it my way. “Want a square for tonight’s game?”
“I don’t know anyone on there.” I pulled out two twenties, tossed it on top, and pushed it back toward him. “You pick.”
Justin rubbed his hands. “I’ll happily spend your cash.” He started scribbling something on the paper. “What’s the problem? Something with your truck?”
“Lennon’s Jeep.”
He glanced up. “She babies that thing more than my GTO.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You have a GTO?”
“Sure do. She’s in storage until summer.”
“The things you learn.” I took a longer sip from my beer, then I set it down.
“Storage meaning my damn barn,” Beckett muttered.
“ Our barn, thank you very much.” Justin folded up the squares with our cash and gave a charming grin to a waitress who was passing through. “Can we have another round, sweetheart?”
“Two drafts and a Guinness?” she asked.
“That would be great.” He tucked the bundle into his pocket.
Once she left—and Justin stopped checking out her ass—he refocused on me. “What happened with Lennon’s Jeep?”
“She must have picked up a nail driving me home last night.”
“She has a spare, doesn’t she? Using a jack too much for you?”
“Fuck off,” I said, with a laugh. “It’s actually her two back tires.”
“That’s some shit luck,” Beckett said with a frown. “Especially with the tires she has.”
“Yeah, she was pretty put out about it.”
“Because her tires cost a pretty penny,” Justin interjected.
“I’ll cover it. It’s my fault she was out in the dark. Especially with all the work we’ve been doing on the rentals.”
Beckett fought a smile. “Sure, that’s the only reason.”
“Can it be done or not?”
“Testy.” Justin threw his shot back, then he took a deep drink of his Guinness. “My guy doesn’t really work on Jeeps, but I’m sure he can make it work. Will probably have to go to Syracuse to get them, though.”
“Yeah, as quick as you can manage would be great. She’s surly that she doesn’t have her ride.”
“Because she loves that purple monstrosity.” Justin shook his head. “Unless you’re going off-roading, what’s the point of driving one of those things?”
“What’s the point of a GTO?”
Justin slouched in his chair with a sappy smile. “Matilda is worth everything.”
I snorted. “Matilda?”
“Woman I bought it off of. She was?—”
“So fine?” I cut him off.
“Probably once upon a time.” Justin gave me a wolfish grin. “Hot granny for the win.”
“God.”
“Hey, we all get old.” He lifted his glass in a salute. “To Mildred Ross and her idiot grandson who couldn’t handle the upkeep, which landed me a sweet ride.”
We all laughed and lifted our glasses. “To Mildred.”
Justin pulled out his phone. “I’ll text Tommy now.”
While we waited, we ordered some bar food, and I half-heartedly watched the game. After the fries and nachos were demolished, I switched to water, since the squeak of sneakers were giving me a headache.
The whole upper deck of the bar erupted into cheers, and a few groans, as the game went into overtime.
Once it died down, Justin dug out his phone. “Tommy said he’d tow it in and get it done in two days. But he’ll pick it up in the morning since he’s on call tonight for tows.”
“The orchard will be talking,” he added, with a smirk.
“Great.” I drained the rest of my glass of water. “I’m going to go crash.”
“Sex is tiring.” Justin sat back, lacing his hands behind his head.
“How would you know? You’ve been in a drought, son.” I grinned at him, even if I wanted to reach across the table and smack him for the shit remark.
“Low blow.”
“More like there’s few people left off-season.” Beckett pulled out a ten and threw it on the table.
I threw down a twenty for the harassed waitresses who’d been dealing with rowdy customers.
“Too true,” Justin said, wistfully. “It’s been a damn cold winter.”
“If you didn’t piss off Marcy during Christmas, you would have been warm and happy.” Beckett stood, then pushed in his chair.
“Yeah, we all can’t be blissfully hitched like you, Beck.” Justin threw a crumpled ten on top of ours and we all headed out together.
It was true. Beckett had been happily married for well over a year now. Helena worked at the Lodge with Laverne and her staff for the entertainment end of events. Weddings, conferences, and other kinds of parties were a specialty of Brothers Three, in addition to the orchard’s typical festivities.
“You showing up tomorrow to work?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Still working on the Blackbird?”
“Yeah, we poured out the walkway. Tomorrow, we’re working on the roof.”
“Great.”
Beckett laughed. “You’re the one who keeps volunteering to help. I told you I’d pay you.”
“I’m working for my rent.” I shouldered through the crowd at the door. The crisp night air was welcome after all the noise and bodies.
“That you are. Kain said he put in your AC. Wimp.” Justin shoved me in the arm.
“I like my creature comforts. I’m not ashamed.”
“I’m heading out.” Beckett gave us a little salute as he headed for his truck.
“You want to shoot some pool?” Justin asked as we threaded our way through the crush of cars and people.
“Really having a dry spell, huh?”
“You were just like me yesterday, asshole.”
I laughed. “I didn’t expect...well, let’s just say, I don’t know where it’s going.”
“Lennon’s a vault. I’ve known her for a few years now and she hasn’t dated or hooked up with anyone since she’s worked here.”
“You saying I’m special?”
Justin threw his head back with a loud laugh. “Maybe it was a pity fuck, my friend.”
“Hell, it was.”
“Ohh. So, it is serious?”
I jammed my hands in my front pockets. “I don’t know. Why the hell are we gossiping?” Then again, I was talking to Justin. He was the orchard gossip, no matter what he wanted to believe.
And talking about Lennon with him was downright dangerous.
Unless I wanted everyone to know we were... whatever we were.
And an item just sounded stupid.
Justin rocked back on his heels. “Don’t fuck with her, man.” The humor was gone. “She’s one of ours.”
“I know it. Don’t think I’ll be the one doing the hurting.”
Justin whistled, long and low. “Lennon isn’t an easy one to get to know. Black cat to the max.”
“Black cat?” I frowned.
“Solitary, wary, helluva set of claws.”
Automatically, I lifted my hand to touch the back of my neck.
Justin grinned. “Claws—check.”
“Fuck you.” But there was no heat in the words. “Raincheck on the pool. Beckett will kick my ass with those ancient shingles tomorrow.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Justin tapped the brim of his hat. “See you at six.”
I groaned.
Justin snickered as he stopped at his beast of a truck and climbed in.
The drive back to the orchard was short and seeing her Jeep sitting outside waiting for me left me even more restless. My outside lights were solar and while her Jeep was in shadow, it was damn obvious that her tires were flat as hell.
Annoyed, I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture, then I texted it to Justin.
Justin:
Fuuuuck. That’s gonna cost you, friend.
Yeah, yeah. Just get that Tommy guy to pick it up tomorrow morning.
Justin:
On it.
I let myself in and the room felt too damn quiet.
It was gonna be a long night.