Chapter 14
Cricket
“You live at the winery?” After looking both ways and glancing at me, Griffin pulls onto the main road. His eyes now stay ahead on the dark two-lane road, but his interest shines a light on me.
This isn’t the first time I’ve answered this question.
I’m sure it won’t be the last, but with him, I worry my response might make him see me differently.
Spoiled rich kid. Born with a silver spoon in my mouth.
Entitled brat. I’ve heard it all. I was once even called a nepo-baby from inheriting a name that is known well beyond the boundaries of the county.
I never much cared since the people who knew me never held my last name against me, but I suddenly feel my heart racing, wondering if Griffin will.
I don’t want that. Not after that boat ride and kiss.
He was nothing but an annoying gnat in my busy life, but all it took was time for us to talk to change that.
“It’s on my family’s property. They built the winery some twenty or so years ago. ”
“Sounds like the kind of expansion we’ve been seeing out at Rollingwood Ranch.”
“That’s your family’s ranch?” He nods, taking a turn on the road that crossed from Greene to Dover County. We’ve not passed another car. For it only being midnight, I would think there’d be more action around these parts.
“Rollingwood is the ranch. Greene Farms is the commercial farming side, and we have the peach orchards, which were established many years ago. I think it all kind of grew from there.” Two lights in the distance look to be heading this way.
“I heard your sister’s been running it.”
“She has. Christine took over when my mom died. I . . .” I hear the long exhale and slow draw of his inhale as he steadies his breath, pulling my gaze over to him.
I still my fidgeting hands when a memory of that news returns and how it rocked the hill country.
Julie Ann Greene Killed in a Car Crash. The news spread fast. It always does when something happens to one of our own in this part of central Texas.
His mom was special from the stories I heard.
Beloved. Generous of time and spirit to the community.
. . . I remember overhearing my mom yelling from inside my dad’s home office. I ran to find out what was happening, but stopped when my mom’s voice carried into the hallway. “You will not attend that woman’s funeral. I won’t allow it.”
“I must.” Two words. His tone was unwavering, though I sensed something broken in him.
“Then I’ll do what I must.” The spite was dripping with anger that was foreign to what I knew of my mom. Stern was more typical, but she was very good at leveling her emotions and getting her way.
“Are you threatening me, Delancy?”
“Not a threat. But I won't let your careless whims from high school bring down what we’ve built.”
“There was nothing careless about how I felt—”
“End this nonsense once and for all, Bryan. I won’t come in second to a ranch hand’s daughter in the next county over.
We’re Dovers, dammit. This discussion is over.
” Hearing her heels clack against the wood floor sent me running.
I hid in the large niche beside the fireplace in the living room and waited for her to pass. Threats, whims, nonsense?
I’d heard my parents argue over the years. It didn’t happen all the time, but it wasn’t something new. The context of the argument was, though. That was the first time I realized there was a feud with the Greenes . . .
Not sure what I can do to comfort Griffin, but I reach over and touch his arm in an effort. My heart squeezes when I catch the oncoming headlights reflect off the glassy surface of his eyes. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
He glances at me in silent understanding before turning on the radio.
It’s not so loud to drown the option for conversation, but the song seems to shift his mood.
He reaches over and rubs my thigh. The gesture makes my heart race for a different reason this time.
“I want to take you out,” he says with a small smile returning to his handsome face.
“That could cause a small-town frenzy if anyone finds out a Greene and Dover went out on a date.”
“It doesn’t have to be anybody’s business but ours.” He keeps glancing between me and the road ahead. “We can go to Austin or even down to San Antonio. I can have you out at the ranch, or we can go back on the boat. There’s a million ways to hide what you don’t want seen.”
“Sounds like you know a little something about that.”
“Don’t act like you don’t. You grew up around here as well. If you didn’t want the church choir teacher or the cashier at the market reporting your wrongdoings to your parents, or worse, your pastor, then your dirty deeds were kept out of sight.”
I laugh as I look out the window at the vast fields, the twinkling of lights on a house speckling the distance. Coming up to a four-way stop, he stops the truck and looks over at me. “What do you say? Will you go out with me?”
“Yes,” I reply as if the answer was already there just waiting to be asked. “Take a left. It’s quicker by a few miles.”
He makes the turn. We’re not far behind another car, but it doesn’t change the feeling of emptiness these roads hold.
With room and time to think, my mind always returns to Jacob.
Why am I pretending to be something I’m not with Griffin?
I’m hiding parts of myself like I can somehow capture that girl I was in Costa Rica again.
I’m a mom. There’s no shame in that, only bliss with that little boy. My most important role isn’t something I need to hide, especially from Griffin. I swallow hard, gripping the side of the leather seat. That it’s his son is beside the point in this moment, but it still weighs heavily on my heart.
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I debate like I’ve been doing a lot of lately.
It doesn’t feel like the time to spring this on him.
Definitely too soon for me even though it’s locked and loaded and ready to share at the drop of a dime.
His hand squeezes my leg before he grips the steering wheel again. “Hey, what’s on your mind?”
“I was thinking about this feud between our families,” I lie, kind of. Is this rivalry a real thing or something that’s become a legend with no substance behind it?
“Let’s just settle this right here.” He adjusts in his seat, stealing a glance before looking ahead through the windshield again.
“I know for a fact that the Greenes don’t have beef with the Dovers or anyone else in this area.
” His throaty chuckle fills the truck’s cab.
“It’s probably just gossip, like we said, to give everyone something to talk about.
” His smile is so endearing that it would be easy to fall for this man.
I may have let my guard down a little too much around him.
I need to get my head on straight and my thoughts together.
A lot is on the line. I know I’m just lonely.
It could be anyone sitting there giving me attention, and I’d probably feel the same.
God, I’m getting good at lying to myself.
I know nothing about that is true. As scary as it is to admit, Griffin Greene has me feeling this kind of way.
I say, “Maybe we’ll be the ones to break from tradition. ”
He gives a little wink. “Maybe.”
With my mind spiraling, I realize a change of subject is needed. “Do you live in the house back there?”
“No.” He shakes his head with his eyes fixed forward. “I live on the ranch with my family. Well, I’m staying there. As for live, Rollingwood is the closest thing I have to a home base.”
“Sounds . . . I’m not sure what that sounds like.
” It sounds a lot like he might be lonely as well, but I won’t put him on the spot to have to defend himself.
And there’s no other way that will come off if I say it.
So I’ll skirt around the issue, gobbling up the breadcrumbs he gives me.
“Do you prefer roaming more than committing to someon—some place?” I can tell he caught the slip at the same time I did.
I want to roll my eyes, but I also don’t want to make a big deal out of it.
“Are you asking if I have commitment issues, Ms. Dover?”
I try to restrain my grin but fail. “Not in so many words, but I am curious.” He appears to stall on the rebound, which is so unlike him. Letting him off the hook, I say, “Maybe some things are best left a mystery.”
“I’m not trying to be evasive. I just don’t have an answer.” He takes a breath that fills his chest, and when he slowly releases it, he says, “I hope to figure some stuff out while I’m back in the Pass.”
I don’t know whether to joke or not since I’m not used to this side of him. “Sounds serious.”
With a chuckle, he replies, “Not so serious, but time to face the next stage of life.” He peers over out of the corners of his eyes. “Or at least consider it.”
I’m glad he understood what I meant, but now he has me even more curious about this next stage. Looking ahead, I spy the turnoff. “Take a right up ahead.” I cross my legs, leaning my elbow on the door. “Can I ask you something personal?”
“I feel like personal is all we’ve been doing tonight, but sure, hit me with some more.”
I could play off his vibe, but I need to know who he is beyond what I’ve seen tonight. My heart thumps in my chest as I circle in on what I really want to know. “Do you run when you get scared?”
“Doesn’t everyone? I’ve been in enough fights in my life. Flight keeps me out of jail.” He chuckles and makes the turn. “The winery is located up ahead?”
I can sense his discomfort behind his jokes. “I don’t mean scared for your life. I meant—”
“I know what you meant, Cricket.” His tone doesn’t hold an ounce of anger. No indignation or impatience is heard. But the door certainly looks to be closed if I want him to open up tonight. He slows the truck when he sees the entrance to Dover Creek Winery ahead. “Where am I taking you?”