Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Reese
N o one would know Griffin was attacked earlier today. The man is all confidence as he slings his guitar over his shoulder, his soulful voice belting out a mix of country and rock.
The same adoring fans from earlier clamor near the base of the stage, mooning up at him. But this time, I pay them no mind.
Because when Griffin catches my gaze, and that smile tips his lips, I know he’s mine.
They can look. Hell, they can scream his name all they want. But Griffin Topete is coming home with me.
I settle at a table with Piper and a few of her firefighter friends. No matter what my sister claims, Colton is over the moon for her. And she lights up around him the same way I do with Griffin.
This is what love looks like.
I sip my drink and bite back a smile. Love . I love Griffin.
Who would’ve thought a cross-country drive to escape love would lead me right to its door?
A flicker of movement pulls my attention to the far end of the bar.
A woman stands there, polished to perfection—dress pants, silk blouse, hair smoothed within an inch of its life.
Early fifties, maybe. She sticks out in this sea of boots and plaid, and something in her posture sets my nerves humming.
Because that was me not so long ago.
I lean toward Piper. “I’m getting a refill. Need anything?”
Piper shakes her head, jerking her thumb toward Colton. “I’m good. This guy will take care of me.”
I roll my eyes, but my chest feels light watching them. I’m sure he will, sis.
I wind through the crowd and snag an empty barstool next to the woman before motioning to Jimmy for another drink. Then I swivel in my seat and catch her eye. “The band is good, aren’t they?”
“Griffin is wonderful. A very talented musician.”
Okay, so she knows Griffin. Please don’t let this be the psychopath who hacked off his hair. Because if it is, I might actually kill her right here in front of God and Jimmy the bartender.
Or worse—what if she’s one of his clients?
“I didn’t realize you knew Griffin,” I say, as casually as I can manage.
A funny smile plays on her lips. “I’ve known him for about a year now. He’s a remarkable man.”
The words snag in my chest, jealousy sparking for a beat before it dies out. Because the way she says it isn’t a lover’s gush—it’s the same way I talk about Griffin. With quiet admiration. With respect.
She tilts her chin toward the stage. “He’s changed his look quite a bit since the last time I saw him.”
At least she’s not the psychopath. If she doesn’t know about his hair, then she wasn’t the one with the scissors.
Out loud, I murmur, “Yeah, it works on him, though.”
Total understatement, which she clocks it with an appreciative grin toward Griffin. “Very true.”
Jimmy slides my drink over, and I nod toward the woman. “You want something? My treat.”
“Sure. That’s kind of you.” She orders a white wine spritzer, then gives me a wry grin as she settles onto the stool next to me. “Clearly, I don’t blend in here.”
“Trust me,” I laugh, “that was me a month ago.”
Her drink arrives, and she lifts it in thanks. “I’m Lauren.”
I tap my glass lightly against hers in a toast. “Reese.”
“So,” I ask, my curiosity bubbling over about this elegant stranger, “you and Griffin are friends?”
“More than.”
Not again. Not another one. I swear, I’m going to have to install a security perimeter.
Lauren catches my expression and chuckles, batting away the idea. “Not like that. But he’s helped me through some really hard times.”
Relief whooshes out of me, earning another giggle from my new drinking buddy.
She swirls her spritzer, her gaze turning distant.
“I lost my husband a few years ago. He was on a million boards—museums, rotary clubs, country clubs, you name it. And after he passed, I kept getting invited to all these events. I hated going alone. The pitying looks, the whispers, or worse, people trying to set me up with the most atrocious men.” She shudders and laughs softly.
“I started slipping into a deep depression. Until Griffin started coming with me.”
“So you two are close friends.” Odd that he’s never mentioned her, but then again, he doesn’t have a list of all the people in my world, either.
She nods, twirling a ring around her finger. “Yes. He taught me about his life, too. I’ve always been a rider, dressage mostly, but he introduced me to the kind of riding he loves. Long trails. Wide-open space. Horses just for the joy of it. Truth is, he kept me from being terminally lonely.”
“That sounds like Griffin.”
Her words are innocuous, but a thought slithers in before I can stop it. What isn’t she telling me about her relationship with my man?
God, Reese, quit it. Just stop.
The worst part? I’m not usually the jealous type. Never saw much point in it—people deserve their friends, whoever they are. But with Griffin, it’s different. Like every woman who’s known him in a way I haven’t is a shadow I can’t quite outrun.
She sips her wine, motioning to me. “How do you know Griffin? I assume you live here in Tangled Vines?”
Do I call him my boyfriend? My man? Lay a claim? Why is this so damn difficult?
I opt for simplicity. “We’re extremely close. We met at the ranch.”
“The ranch?”
“The Rockin’ Rodeo Ranch,” I clarify—and instantly catch the flicker of recognition in her eyes.
“Oh,” she murmurs, her brows quirking. “I see.”
I dismiss her assumption with a wave of my hand as a bright laugh spills past my lips. “Oh, no, I’d be terrible in that capacity. I’m the nurse.”
Lauren studies me for a moment before leaning in. “I may be overstepping, but since you two are so close, I have to ask. Is Griffin okay?”
“He seems to be. Do you know something I don’t?”
“He runs himself ragged and I’m concerned for his… psyche.”
Ah, that makes sense. “Well, he doesn’t do that kind of work anymore.”
Please don’t let her be another client, determined to lure him back to escorting.
“I’m aware. And I’m thrilled. He’s far too good a human being to be doing that.
” Lauren crosses her legs, shifting slightly on the stool.
“Although I must admit I paid for his services, too. But it was strictly as that of an escort, someone to attend events with me. There were plenty of women champing at the bit to hire him for other things, but between us, there was never anything more.”
Thank the Gods. No way could I sit through this woman waxing poetic about Griffin’s bedroom talents.
“But I’m concerned about him. Always have been.” She sets her glass down, her fingernail tapping the stem. “He showed me his business proposal a couple of weeks back.”
Just like that, the puzzle pieces snap together, forming a clear picture.
I shake my finger at her. “You’re that woman. The one he went away with for the weekend.”
“That’s me.”
Time to shift into cheerleader mode. “He’s very talented. I don’t know if you’ve ever visited the ranch, but he built a patio and pergola that rivals any botanical garden. Truly stunning.”
Her eyes crinkle at my words. “I saw photos of it, and you’re right. He knows his stuff. His business plan was meticulous, down to the last detail.”
Propping my chin in my hand, I fix her with an intense stare. “But? I know there’s a but in there.”
Lauren purses her lips and nods, wincing with guilt. “Unfortunately, there is. I have the funds to back his business, but the contracting industry is volatile. I worry Griffin won’t have enough work here to stay afloat. That wouldn’t be a problem where I live, however.”
My pulse kicks up, sensing this conversation is about to take a dangerous turn into uncharted waters. “Where is that?”
“I live outside Portland. Heavily populated for Oregon, at least, and there is a lot of money in that area.” She swirls her wine in slow circles, her gaze fixed on the glass instead of me.
“Portland is so far away.” I murmur the words more for myself than for her benefit.
How often will I see Griffin if he’s a few hours from me? Especially if he’s starting a new business.
The answer? Not nearly enough.
“Honestly,” Lauren continues after a beat, “I told him we should make a deal with each other.”
“A deal?”
She laughs softly, words tumbling faster now.
“Yes. I fund his business and he marries me. That way, I never have to walk into another gala or board meeting alone and he’d have all the capital he needs, plus access to my contact list. Then, once his business flourishes, he could expand into other cities if he wanted. Tangled Vines included.”
The room tilts at her words, but she’s not done.
Her hand waves wildly as she continues listing all the perks of her plan.
“I’ve got this enormous house in Portland which sits empty, save for me and my dog.
It makes sense, doesn’t it? And well, who knows?
Friendships have turned into love before.
Maybe we could keep each other company in more ways than one.
Stranger things have happened, right? Personally, I think it’s a win-win situation. ”
And with that, Lauren douses my dreams in gasoline and sets them ablaze.
She offers me a small, almost hopeful smile, like she expects me to agree.
But I’m too busy burning alive to respond.
Lauren’s eyes widen suddenly, a flush creeping up her neck. “Oh, listen to me babbling. I shouldn’t have just dumped all that on you.”
But the damage is already done. My heart jackhammers against my ribs, each word replaying like a cruel echo.
Marry me. Live with me. Win-win.
Meanwhile, I sit here forcing positivity while inside, I’m unraveling thread by thread.
“Tangled Vines is a growing area,” I mutter, feeling oddly protective of the small town I didn’t know existed two months ago. “It may not be Portland, but people are moving here, investing here. He could build something real. How much is he looking for, anyway?”
Lauren sips her wine, her gold bracelet catching the light. “Two hundred and fifty thousand to start.”