Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Reese
T he road winds us back toward Hollow Creek, the mountains soft in the distance, the late afternoon sun slanting across the dash. For the first time since my chat with Sabine, I feel lighter. Not perfect—my head still aches faintly—but better.
I think back to the phone call with my mom, to the way her voice cracked when she said she just wanted me safe and happy. I finally believe her.
But Griffin is feeling a decidedly different emotion as he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, eyes flicking from the windshield to me and back again. Over and over.
Time to slide on my friendship cap. I don’t know what happened during his phone call—maybe something at the ranch or with a client. Hell, maybe there’s an issue with Lauren.
Do I want to know? Probably not. But I’m going to ask anyway.
I pivot in my seat, tucking one leg beneath me. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”
His knuckles tighten around the wheel, tendons flexing. “Oh, I absolutely want to talk about it,” he says, each syllable vibrating like a live wire. “Because I just had a real interesting conversation with your sister.”
Oh, God.
My fingers clutch the door handle, my hair sliding forward as I duck my face, trying to hide the flush racing up my cheeks. I knew this was coming. I’ve been bracing myself all day, convinced I was ready to face this head-on.
But I’m not.
Not even close.
Still, I force myself upright, smoothing my palms over my thighs. I’m thirty-seven years old. I can do this. I can show gratitude, say my piece, and slink back to my motel room to sleep the rest of the day away.
“Today’s been…” My voice wavers, but I push through. “Better than I expected. And I wanted to say thank you.”
He tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Thanking me for what?”
The man must be joking.
Is he going to make me say it?
“For breakfast. For Pearl. For… everything,” I mumble, the heat of humiliation prickling under my skin. “And for the other night. I’m glad it was with you.”
Griffin barks out a laugh, running a hand over his jaw. “Shit, I’m glad it was with me too. Imagine that.”
I can’t read him right now. Is he furious? Amused? Or just basking in my discomfort?
I suck in a breath, my insides quaking as I prepare to make a total fool of myself. “Thank you… for making me feel like I wasn’t broken. Like I was worth the time you gave me. I’d never had that before. I won’t forget it.”
Tears prick hot at my lids, but I will not cry. Not in front of him. Humiliated or not, I’ll survive this too. Somehow.
I turn toward the window, desperate for any lifeline to drag me out of this mess. Time to change the subject. Not that he’s saying anything anyway.
“Enough about that night.” I twist a ring around my finger, hoping the motion will steady me. “I thought you were working all weekend. How did you get time off?”
He pulls into a spot and slams the truck into park.
For a moment he just leans back, head tipping against the headrest, a noisy exhale spilling into the cab.
His eyes fix on the roof like he’s searching for patience that isn’t there.
“Capri gave me the weekend off. She knew you were up here in Hollow Creek. Told me to come up.”
Just like that, the bottom falls out.
My God. It’s even worse than I imagined.
“Wait a damn minute. Capri sent you?”
Honestly, Reese, are you surprised? Did you really think he was going to track you down of his own accord?
No, this makes much more sense.
Griffin slides off his cowboy hat, tossing it in the backseat. “Yes. You weren’t talking to me. I didn’t know where the hell you’d gone. I’m thrilled she told me, so that I could come up here and protect you.”
He makes it sound so goddamn noble. Guess I should kiss his feet for all the paces I’ve put him through.
Sorry, cowboy, I’m fresh out of gratitude today.
In its place? A bottomless rage, teeming with humiliation and embarrassment.
I slam my fist against the dashboard, pain searing up my hand. “Unbelievable. My sister pays you to fuck me, and Capri pays you to babysit me. Tell me—how much?”
His head jerks toward me, his brows drawing together. “How much what?”
I grab my wallet from my bag, shaking it at him. “How much is Capri paying you to look after me? Tell me the number, and I’ll double it for you to leave me alone.”
Griffin braces one hand against the dash, leaning toward me, tension radiating off him. “No one paid me a damn thing.”
I clutch my chest in mock surprise. “Oh, so I am a charity case. Sabine was right. Good to know. That’s even fucking worse.”
Griffin flinches like I just landed the hardest punch of the day. His chest heaves once as a tremor runs through his shoulders, rage barely contained, his voice rough with it. “Is that really what you think I see when I look at you?”
“No idea, and I don’t want to know.” I swipe at the tears sliding down my cheeks. So much for maintaining a strong front. “Just go, Griffin. Your job here is done.”
I yank open the door and jump out of the truck.
I don’t make it two steps down the sidewalk before strong arms lock around my waist.
“What—hey!” I yelp as Griffin hauls me off my feet. “Put me down!”
“Not a chance,” he growls, carrying me like I weigh nothing.
I pound a fist against his chest. “Griffin!”
“In a second.”
He ducks us into the side alley beside a closed restaurant, the world shrinking to brick walls and shadows as his body blocks out everything else.
The second my feet touch the ground, he cages me in, palms slamming against the wall on either side of me.
The heat rolling off him is inescapable—every breath, every inch of him a barrier I can’t get past.
“Move,” I demand.
“Oh no,” he says, eyes blazing. “We’re not walking away from this. I can stand here all night if I have to.”
I fold my arms over my chest, defiant. “I have nothing more to say to you.”
“Good. It’s my turn, then.” He leans in, his mouth hovering against mine. “And you’re going to listen to every word.”
I jerk my head away, but he grabs my chin, forcing my gaze to his. “I know what Sabine told you.”
His words punch the air out of me. My gaze drops to the cracked pavement.
“And yes, your sister and I talked about you—your past, the things that haunt you, the belief that you’re not enough.”
Heat floods my cheeks, a stunning soup of mortification and rage.
“And I told Piper not to worry because I would take care of it.”
My head jerks up, finger stabbing at my chest. “By it , you mean me?”
“Yes.” His eyes don’t waver. “You.”
“You bastard .”
“Do you want to know why?” His hand comes up fast, cupping my face, holding me still. “Because I was already in love with you. Because there’s no way in hell another man could love you the way I love you. No way in hell I was going to let another man touch you.”
“How much did you get paid to say that?”
He smacks the brick, his eyes wild. “I walked away from everything for the chance to say that.” His chest heaves with emotion. “Don’t you see? The sun rises and fucking sets on you. From the first moment I saw you, I knew it was you. I’ve been waiting my whole damn life for you.”
Something in me fractures. My vision wavers, breath hitching, but Griffin’s face doesn’t soften, doesn’t hide. There’s no placating smile, no easy lie. Only desperation and truth, staring me down.
“You’re not lying to me,” I whisper, my whole body trembling.
“I’ve never lied to you.”
“So this isn’t some game. Some act of pity or charity?”
“It’s my life . With you at the center.” His voice cracks, the emotion too big to be contained any longer. “And the night I made love to you? Meant everything .”
My hands cover my mouth as the tears earn their due. “It meant everything to me, too.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me what Sabine said? Why did you shut me out?”
Sniffling, I fix my gaze on the concrete. “Because deep down, I believed her. That someone like you wouldn’t want someone like me.”
“Are you kidding? I’m the lucky one. You’re the first woman who’s ever looked at me—just Griffin, no mask, no job, no bullshit—and believed I was enough. Do you know how many nights I’ve torn myself apart wondering if I’d ever be good enough for you?”
“You’re perfect.”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m not. I’m never going to give you the life that your ex could. I will never be that guy. I drive an old truck and live in a tiny cabin. I work hard, and I stink at the end of the day. That is all I have to offer.”
And in that instant, I know exactly what I need from this life.
“You’re right. You’re not perfect, but you’re perfect for me .” My hand lifts on instinct, fingers tracing along his jaw, tangling briefly in the coarse brush of his beard. “You are everything I want.”
“You sure about that?”
“Why do you think I was so broken-hearted, Griffin? You were my dream come true, and then I found out it was a lie.”
“It was never a lie. Not one second. Definitely not that night with you. God almighty, don’t you see how I look at you? I fucking worship you, Reese.”
For a moment, his chest heaves like he’s run a marathon, eyes burning with truth but rimmed in exhaustion. The fight, the confession—it’s all cost him.
And now it’s my turn. “Please don’t stop. Not when all I want is to give it back to you.”
Something raw flashes in his gaze, like my words hit bone deep.
I rise onto my toes, tilting my face toward his, desperate for his touch.
But his hand slides up, cupping my cheek, stopping me inches away.
His voice is ragged, low and dangerous, like it’s dragged from the pit of him.
“Don’t kiss me unless you’re ready to give me everything.
I can’t do this halfway anymore—I want it all.
Every breath. Every heartbeat. Every night in my bed.
So don’t you dare kiss me unless you’re going to let me love you every day. ”
My chest clenches.
His line in the sand. His unwavering demand.
And one I’ll concede gladly.
I press the lightest kiss to his lips, testing.
He pulls back slightly. “I told you what was going to happen if you kissed me again.”
Tears and laughter tangle in my throat as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close. My lips hover over his, my whisper hot against his mouth. “I’ll take my chances, cowboy, because I want you every damn day, too.”
His mouth crushes against mine in a feverish kiss, his hands sliding under my skirt until his fingers fist in the lace at my hips, tugging like he might tear it from me. The solid press of him— hard, unyielding—grinds against my center, and I gasp against his lips.
In one brutal motion, he hauls me up, my legs locking tight around his waist as he pins me to the wall. The hunger in him is barely leashed; I can feel the tether snap.
“Griffin,” I breathe, clutching at his shoulders, nails biting into muscle. “Don’t you get it? I’m yours. I belong to you.”
A guttural growl rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating through me as his grip tightens. “Damn straight you belong to me. Only me.”
For a heartbeat, I think he’s going to claim me right here, raw and reckless—but then his body stills, trembling with restraint instead of hunger.
His forehead drops to mine, his breathing ragged. “Sweetheart, under a blanket of stars? I’ll ruin you. In a meadow? I’ll worship every inch. But in a filthy alley near a dumpster? No fucking way. You deserve better than this.”
Wait, what?
He lowers me carefully to the ground, his hands steady as he smooths my dress. His gaze locks on mine, fierce and unyielding. “Don’t you dare think you messed this up. I love you. And I’m going to prove it in the right way. Let’s go back to the motel.”
The second he says those words— I love you —every fear crumbles to dust.
I’d follow the man to the moon if he asked me.
The silence is electric in his truck as he drives the short distance to the motel.
But I take full advantage as I lean into him, skimming my palm down his thigh and brushing against the rigid length straining his jeans.
“Beautiful,” he grits out, jaw locked. “If you don’t stop, I’m not gonna make it.”
I smirk, fingers teasing higher. “Oh, you’ll make it.”
When he pulls up in front of the motel, he throws the gearshift into park, then turns, pinning me with that devastating stare. “Stay. I’ll come around to get you.”
Naturally, I don’t.
The second my feet hit the pavement, his voice rumbles low, full of dark amusement. “You never listen, do you?”
I fist my hands in his shirt, the fire in my body begging to be sated. “Not usually. Are we really doing this, cowboy?”
“Absolutely,” he murmurs. “Because making love to you is my second favorite thing in the world.”
I blink up at him, breathless. “Second? What’s first?”
He leans down and kisses me, his words a rough whisper against my mouth. “Loving you.”