5. Griff
CHAPTER 5
GRIFF
I didn’t have to be such a dick to her. Rolling over in bed, I blinked my eyes. Sleep had evaded me all night. My mind wouldn’t let go of the way Juniper looked right before she slammed the door behind her. I should have gone after her, but I didn’t know what to say. She’d rocked my carefully constructed world, and I was still reeling.
Scout hopped off the bed, always eager to get the day started. I followed him to the kitchen, wincing at the sight of the foil-wrapped banana bread sitting on the counter. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and I’d treated her like the enemy. Truth was, I didn’t know how to respond to kindness. She’d caught me off guard, showing up at my place, fresh baked bread in her hands and a smile that could crack even the hardest of hearts on those full, pink lips.
I thought about calling Mama Mae back in Texas, but I already knew what she would say. She’d tell me to hightail it down to the lodge and say I was sorry. And she’d be right.
I stalled, finishing the banana bread along with two cups of coffee before I worked up the nerve to head down the mountain. Scout came with me. I could have made him stay at the cabin, but she might be more likely to forgive me if I had my dog in tow.
The wind blew through the trees. Soon winter would loosen its grip and the mountain would transform. I wondered if Juniper would be around to see it. If she enjoyed taking pictures this time of year, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself when spring and summer arrived.
Too soon I made my way up the drive and entered the clearing. I wasn’t used to apologizing. Wasn’t used to doing a lot of the things I’d been doing since Juniper arrived. I lifted my foot to step onto the porch and froze. Someone had nailed the carcass of a rabbit to the porch post.
My senses went on high alert. I touched the rabbit’s soft fur. It was still warm. Fresh tracks led from the woods to the porch and back again. Whoever had done this probably hadn’t stuck around, but I was tempted to crash through the trees anyway. Instead, I banged on the door, needing to know that Juniper was okay.
It took several seconds before I heard movement inside. I was about to break down the door when she pulled it open. Her hair hung around her shoulders in soft waves and she stood there in a pair of thin pink and purple pajama bottoms with cats all over them and a shirt reading “Keep It Up and This Pussy Will Purr” across her breasts. Fuck if that didn’t give me too many bad, bad, bad ideas. She blinked up at me, looking like a teenager who’d been woken up too early at a slumber party. I was instantly reminded of just how young and vulnerable she was.
“Grab your things. You’re coming with me.” Eager to get her back to my place where she’d be safe, I brushed past her and entered the main room.
“What are you talking about?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve had enough men trying to control my life. You don’t get to join that list just because you’re big and broody and know how to light a fire.”
I didn’t want to scare her, but she needed to take me seriously. “You’re not safe here. Someone left you a message on the porch and I need to get you to safety.”
She blinked the sleep out of her eyes. “What message?”
“It’s not important.” I scanned the room, looking for anything out of place. If someone had been inside… I wouldn’t consider the possibility.
Juniper stepped out onto the porch. I reached for her, but it was too late. She clutched her stomach as she stared at the rabbit. “Oh my gosh. I think I’m going to be sick.”
I held her hair as she puked over the porch railing. She might capture the local wildlife on film, but I doubted she’d ever seen something as gruesome as the message nailed to her porch.
“You okay?” My hand shook as I rested it on her shoulder. Not because I was spooked, but because I didn’t recognize the feelings surging inside me. The need to protect her overwhelmed me. I’d tried looking at her as just a body who’d moved in next door. But she was so much more than that.
“I’m fine.” She stood and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”
“Grab what you need. I’m taking you to my place.” I tugged her useless coat off the hook by the door and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“I need my laptop.” She shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed her computer from the table. “My camera too. Oh, and I’m not going anywhere without Appie.”
I’d forgotten about the fucking cat. “Where is he?”
Juniper looked around, her eyes wide. “I don’t know. Maybe in the bedroom.”
Her hands were already full, so I ducked into the bedroom and scooped the cat up off the bed. The whole room smelled like freshly laundered sheets and something flowery and feminine. I was entering dangerous territory by taking her back to my place, but I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe.
“I’ve got the cat. Give me your keys. Let’s get out of here.”
She tossed me the keys, and I locked up behind us. If someone wanted to get inside, the simple deadbolt wouldn’t stop them, but it might slow them down. I pushed the cat into the backseat and rounded the SUV to get behind the wheel. Once we got to my cabin, I’d figure out what to do next.
Seeing Juniper in my space was equal parts comforting and confusing. Neither one of us had been thinking clearly when we left Caleb’s lodge, so I hadn’t thought to have her grab something to wear besides those fucking tempting pajamas. I’d given her one of my flannel shirts, and she’d snuggled up on the couch with a blanket covering her legs. Scout nestled in next to her while Sir Aper Whatever surveyed his surroundings like a monarch perched on his throne from the dog bed by the fireplace.
At least the cat and dog had been tolerating each other. If they could do it, so could we.
Juniper had been rattled when I’d brought her into the cabin, but now that the initial shock had worn off, she was pissed.
“Who would do something like that?” She looked over at me from her corner of the couch. “Did Caleb ever tell you who had made the offer on his land?”
“No.” I propped my feet up on the coffee table while I tried to decide how much information to share.
“Would someone in town know?” She flipped her laptop closed and set it on the side table. She’d been searching through the photos she’d taken over the past several days and looking for clues to see if she’d missed anything. The woman might not belong on the mountain, but she was determined.
“Maybe.”
“Then I should go check.” She tossed the blanket aside and got up.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere alone.” I stood as well and we stared at each other, neither one of us willing to back down. She was even more beautiful when she was all riled up. Her cheeks flushed and her pulse fluttered, drawing my attention to her neck. “We can go first thing in the morning. It’s too late to get down there and back in the daylight today.”
That seemed to satisfy her, at least for now. Her shoulders relaxed and her breath slowed. “You don’t need to babysit me.”
Is that what she thought? It had been lifetimes ago that I’d had to temper my tone and share my thoughts with someone. Caleb, Finn, and the other guys down at the Rusty Elk didn’t require explanations. They took everything I said or did at face value. But Juniper, hell, she refused to blindly put her trust in me.
Yes, she was gorgeous but seeing the fire burning inside her… that made her infinitely more attractive.
“I’m not babysitting you. Your uncle was a friend. I don’t want anything to happen to you like it did to him.” Shit. I’d said too much. Hoping she wouldn’t pick up on my mistake, I moved to the kitchen. “Are you okay with venison stew for dinner?”
Her head tilted. She caught it. Caught me. But she didn’t say anything. Just followed me into the kitchen. “Is that what smells so good?”
The small kitchen had always been big enough for me, but with Juniper leaning against the counter, her eyes shining with interest, her body close enough to touch, it seemed to shrink.
“Can I do anything to help?”
“You can see if there’s anything to make a salad if you want,” I said, nodding toward the refrigerator.
Within minutes, I’d dished up two big bowls of stew and we sat down, her knee brushing mine underneath the small table. A shiver raced straight down my spine, and I scooted my chair a few inches away. Juniper didn’t acknowledge it but based on the slight smile that tipped the edges of her lips up, she could tell I wasn’t immune to her touch.
After spending most of the afternoon talking, I welcomed the silence. I dug into my stew and tried to keep my mind from wandering to how she looked earlier that morning, her hair falling over her shoulders, her dreams still hovering at the edges of her memory, that ridiculous shirt she was wearing when I’d pounded on her door.
She wasn’t content to keep the peace. “This is really good.”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
Her hand paused, her spoon halfway to her mouth. “Nothing personal. I just figured a man who lived all alone at the top of a mountain who didn’t like to talk and barely ventured out wouldn’t be such a good cook.”
“Maybe we’ve both underestimated each other.” That was as close as I’d get to telling her I might have been wrong about her.
“Maybe so.” She slipped the spoon past her lips, and I forced myself to look away.
When we were done eating, she cleared the table and started filling the sink with soapy water. I hadn’t thought beyond getting her out of the lodge. With evening settling in, my stomach churned. I’d never planned on entertaining guests and only had one bedroom. No question about it, I was going to give her the bed, but how long would it take me to fall asleep knowing her fiery hair was fanned out over my pillow?
“You don’t have to do that,” I told her. I’d rather clean up the kitchen than watch her do it. It would be easier when she left if I didn’t have images of her moving around in my space to deal with.
“You cooked. I’ll clean up.” She slipped her hands into the soap suds and nodded toward the knife at my hip. “Tell me about your knives.”
“What do you want to know?”
She scrubbed at the bowls we’d used before moving them to the other side of the sink. “Do you make them all by hand?”
“Sure do.” I unclipped the knife and took it out of its holder to show her. “The handle on this one is carved out of bone from a deer. I forged the blade myself on the equipment you saw out back. Every knife I make has a story.”
She ran her hands under the water and dried them before reaching for the knife. As she took it from me, our fingers brushed. Attraction sizzled between us, and I wondered if she could feel it too.
Her chin tipped up and she held my gaze. “What’s the story on this one?”
My breath caught as I stared down at her. “Not one I tell.”
The blade caught the light as she turned it over in her hand and looked it over from every angle. “Even the dangerous things you make are beautiful.”
This woman… my pulse pounded. I’d never felt so seen. I wanted to capture the moment like she did with her camera so I could look back on it later and remember how it felt. I didn’t intend to, but I took a step closer, backing her toward the counter.
She tilted her head back. “You know, you’re not what I expected.”
“Neither are you.” I couldn’t fight it any longer. I’d sworn off connection. Promised myself I didn’t get to have things like this—soft mouths and warm smiles and the kind of woman who might look at me like I was more than the wreck I’d become. But then she’d touched my knife. Called it beautiful. And just like that, every wall I’d built around my heart splintered like kindling in a fire that I’d never meant to light.
Leaning forward, I brushed my lips against hers. The knife clattered onto the counter, then her arms snaked around my neck, and she rose onto her toes.
I took the kiss deeper, desperate with need. It had been years since I’d felt anything in my hardened heart and this woman had cracked it open with a few smiles and a kiss. Numbness gave way to an ache that pulsed deep within me. My hands went to her hips, and I pulled her tight to my chest. It wasn’t enough. Half out of my mind, I wanted more.
Then Scout barked and the cat hissed.
We broke apart. The surprise in her eyes felt like a big pitcher of ice water had just been dumped over my head. My shock instantly gave way to regret.
“We can’t do this.” I shook my head, trying to convince myself to walk away.
Juniper slid her palms over my chest. “We already did.”
“And it can’t happen again.” Then I did what any other warm-blooded guy in the same situation would have done. I fucking fled. I didn’t stop to explain. Didn’t stop to breathe. Just turned and walked into the night like the coward I’d promised myself I’d never be again.