Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Reese
W e’re halfway across the parking lot when I pause.
“You okay?” Piper asks, eyeing me.
“Give me a second. I just need to run to the bathroom.”
Total lie, but it buys me a few minutes.
Even if Piper’s dead wrong about Griffin having a crush, I can’t leave without thanking him. It’s the right thing to do.
And that’s the only reason I’m doing it.
Nothing to see here, folks.
Voices drift from the rear lot of the bar. I follow the sound and find his band heaving the last of their gear into a pickup. With a thud, the tailgate slams shut. Griffin tips his beer at the guys, their laughter trailing as they climb into the cab and drive off.
When the dust settles, it’s Griffin—leaning near the picnic table, a couple of women hovering close, eyeing him like he’s dessert at the end of a long meal. He says something polite, easy, and they laugh before drifting off into the night.
Then it’s just him.
He turns on his heel and stops dead when he sees me. For a beat, his eyes flicker wide with surprise before narrowing again, guarded.
“Reese.” His voice rumbles over me. “Thought you’d gone.”
“I almost did,” I admit, words tumbling out faster than I mean them. “But I had to thank you for playing my songs.” I cross my arms, aiming for sass and failing miserably. “Way to play it off like you didn’t know them. Smooth move, cowboy.”
A hint of a smile touches his mouth. “I didn’t know them.”
“Right,” I mutter. “That’s why you sounded so damn good.”
He shrugs, setting his beer on the scarred wood. “Stayed up the last few nights learning them. Getting the chords right. Still rough, but I’ll get better. You’ll see.”
And yet the words escape before I can stop them. “Why would you do that?”
“To see you smile.”
Don’t read into it, Reese. Don’t you dare.
He clicks his tongue, slips his phone from his back pocket, scrolling for a beat before tucking it away again. Then he steps closer, voice dipping low as heat curls in my belly.
“I don’t want to talk.” He holds out his hand, his intense stare daring me to object. “I want to dance with you. It’s my damn turn.”
The strains of Neon Moon drift from the speakers just as Griffin steps in front of me.
Dancing with Jimmy had been easy. Comfortable.
Dancing with Griffin is something else entirely. His palm settles low on my back, warmth seeping through the fabric, and suddenly I can’t remember how to breathe.
He feels rigid at first, every line of him tight. I force a shaky laugh. “You could at least pretend you like dancing with me.”
That earns me his genuine smile—the slow, unguarded one that makes my knees weak. “Trust me, I do.”
His grip tightens, pulling me flush against him. He spins me out, reels me back, and my laugh escapes before I can stop it. For a moment, it’s effortless, like we’ve been doing this forever.
Then, as the song fades, he dips me low, his arm strong around me.
“Whoops,” he murmurs.
My gaze follows his and— fantastic —two buttons gape wide on my dress. A nervous chuckle bubbles up.
Smooth, Reese. Nailed it.
“See? This is why I stick to sweats,” I grumble, my fingers fumbling to fix the damage.
The damn buttons won’t cooperate—of course they won’t, not when my hands are shaking like a teenager’s.
“Allow me.” His voice is quiet, steady, as his hands close over mine. Heat sears straight through me at the contact.
I freeze, breath caught in my throat. He nudges my hands down to my sides, taking over like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Maybe it’ll work better from my angle.”
My angle. My pulse skitters.
He’s just helping, Reese. Relax.
Except his fingers linger too long as he fastens the buttons. Knuckles graze my breast, and the world tilts.
“There.” But he doesn’t move on. His hand drifts upward, tracing the line of my dress, over the curve of my breast, sliding along the strap. Fingers skim my collarbone, light but sure, until I can’t remember my own name.
And just like that, I’m back in the woods, drunk on the sight of him shirtless and sweat-slick. Only now he’s closer. Too close.
“Just so you know,” he murmurs, “you’re stunning. Even if that button’s been hanging on for dear life all night.”
Color floods my cheeks. I tuck my hair behind my ear, fumbling for casual. “I didn’t realize it was that obvious.”
“It was to me.” His touch lingers, deliberate. “Then again, I’m on a mission to memorize every inch of you.”
Dangerous words. Too dangerous. My breath trips as I tilt my face up, every nerve screaming how close he is.
Griffin tips his hat back, the dim light carving out the sharp lines of his face. Seriously, the man is too damn good-looking to be real.
And yet, here he is.
I swipe his beer off the table and take a long pull, praying the cold will calm me down and set me to rights again. “You’ve got a lot of fans.”
He shrugs. “They like the band.”
I snort and take another sip of his beer. “They like you. I saw the way they were eyeballing you.”
He rests one booted leg on the picnic bench as a sexy smirk crosses his face. “How was that?”
“Like you were the juiciest ribeye in the land.”
Griffin chuckles and steals the beer from my hand. “Is that cowboy speak?”
I nod. “My New York version, anyway. But I get why they look.” I motion my hands along the length of him. “You’re stupidly, stunningly good-looking. The kind of looks that make a woman forget what she has to say.”
He places his arm across his leg and fixes me with that blue gaze. “You seem to do okay.”
Not hardly, Griffin.
I cross my arms over my chest and rock back on my heels, desperate to appear cool and collected. “Maybe it’s because I hate all men, remember?”
But Griffin doesn’t find my words amusing. He straightens and hauls me close, his large hands warm around my waist. “I’m going to do my damnedest to plead my case.”
My throat works around the lump forming there. “Why?”
“Because the idea of missing out on you is something I can’t fathom. So if I have to wade through the heartbreaks and insecurities, bandage the wounds, staunch the bleeding for a chance to see you shine—I’m in.”
There is no way this man is real. No way he’s actually saying these words to me.
“But you don’t know me.”
His eyes soften, cutting straight through me. “Reese, you don’t know you. I think she’s someone we’d both love to meet.”
I just stare, words gone.
“What?” he teases, a faint grin tugging at his mouth. “No self-deprecating comeback?”
A shaky laugh flits past my lips. “No, because now, like all your other female disciples, I’ve totally forgotten what I was going to say.”
I close my hands over my mouth and realize it’s a lost cause.
I’ve fallen for Griffin.
Hard.
“Damn it. Can’t you put a bag over your head or something? You being a wonderfully sweet, nice guy is hard enough to accept. But looking like this on top of it?” I gesture wildly along his frame. “Way too much for my fragile heart to handle. Poor thing doesn’t stand a chance.”
A slow smile curves his mouth as his hands slide up my body, tracing along my sides before framing my face. Warm palms cradle my cheeks, tilting my face toward him. “I’m about to make it worse then.”
“How?”
His gaze drops to my mouth. The air shifts—charged—just before one thumb grazes the edge of my jaw, lingering there. He bends, lowering his face toward me, his breath mingling with mine, warm and steady, giving me every chance to stop him.
I don’t.
And then he kisses me—soft at first, like he’s testing the shape of my mouth, the taste of my breath. His lips move slowly, coaxing, almost gentle… until they’re not. The pressure builds, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that makes my knees weaken.
A low groan rumbles from his chest, vibrating against me as his hand fists in my hair, tilting my head so he can go deeper.
His tongue sweeps across mine—hot, wet, and demanding—sending a rush of sparks straight to my core.
I taste beer on his lips, but underneath it, there’s only him—and he tastes far better than even my dreams imagined.
His other arm bands around my waist, hauling me tight against him, the hard lines of his body pressing into every soft inch of mine.
My fingers clutch his shirt, desperate for an anchor because I’m not sure my legs are doing their job anymore.
God, he’s hard everywhere—chest, arms, thighs pressing into mine—and it sends a sharp, needy ache between my legs.
The scent of his cologne—warm spice and salt from his skin—wraps around me, filling my head until the bar, the music, every other sound is gone. All I hear is his ragged breath, syncing with mine.
He kisses me like he’s determined to erase every man who came before him. Like I’m his to possess. And God help me, I want him to.
I whimper into his mouth, and he answers with a rough sound of his own, his hands sliding down to clamp around my hips—firm, claiming—like he’s deciding exactly where I belong.
His grip tightens, grinding me closer until my breasts mash into his chest, the thin fabric of my dress straining between us. A button pops, maybe two, and I don’t care. I’d strip the whole damn dress off if it meant getting closer.
My fingers tangle in his hair, yanking him down to me as his mouth takes and takes, his tongue sliding against mine—hot and electric. One of his hands dips lower, cupping my ass and pulling me flush against his solid length.
There’s no air, nothing but Griffin—relentless and feral.
And nothing has ever felt better.
“Reese, are you back here?”
The voice barely registers at first—just a faint, unwelcome buzz outside the cocoon of heat and breath and Griffin’s mouth on mine—until it grows louder.
“Reese, where are you?” My sister steps onto the back deck, and Griffin eases back just enough to duck his head, his stubble scraping lightly against my skin as he nuzzles into the curve of my neck.
“Whoa,” she says, eyes darting between us. “Sorry. What did I interrupt?”
“What does it look like?” Griffin murmurs, his teeth grazing my throat as his hand tightens possessively at my hip.
Of course he’s unbothered by my sister’s discovery.
Come to think of it, I don’t give a damn either.
Piper crosses her arms over her chest, amusement dancing on her face. No way is she letting this one go. “I thought you’d drowned in the toilet, Reese.”
I chuckle. “We were dancing.”
My sister smirks. “Right. Because that’s what dancing looks like.”
My cheeks flush, and I nudge Griffin’s head up. “Tell her we weren’t doing anything.”
Griffin tips his cowboy hat at my sister. “Couldn’t let Jimmy stake a claim. She owed me a dance.”
“Among other things. Well, my sister owes me some food, and unless she wants me to gnaw off the damn table leg, it’s time to go. Care to join us, Griffin?”
Griffin shakes his head. “I have to speak to Jimmy about playing next week. But thank you for the offer.”
I hold up a hand toward my sister, buying a few precious moments. Then I press a kiss to Griffin’s cheek. “Thank you for playing my songs.”
“Thanks for dancing to them with another guy.” Griffin shoots me a mock glare.
“You were busy.”
“I didn’t like it. I wanted you in my arms.”
God help my heart.
“Can I make a confession? I only wanted to dance with you.”
“Anytime. Anywhere.” He links our fingers and presses a kiss to my inner wrist, holding there for a lingering beat, lips warm against the rapid flutter of my pulse, his eyes never leaving mine.
Am I willing to stand here forever, locked in this moment?
If only that were an option.
But I know this is a one-off moment, unlikely to occur again.
Still, it’s the kind of kiss that ruins you for every other one. And one I’ll relive forever.
Starting immediately, as my sister links arms with me and guides me from the bar. “You’d better tell me everything. Don’t leave out a single detail.”
I glance over my shoulder to where Griffin leans against the picnic table, his hat low over his face, lips swollen from our kiss. Seems he’s reliving the moment too.
Goodnight, Griffin.