Chapter 33
Griffin
“Iwant you to come meet my family.”
The thought blurts out of my mouth in the middle of dinner at the only Italian place in town, where I’m celebrating four perfect months with Eleanor.
“What do you mean?” she asks through a mouthful of pasta. “I’ve met your parents like a thousand times.”
“Not my parents, my aunt and uncle, and some cousins,” I clarify.
“You’ve never talked about them before.”
“I haven’t really seen them since my mom left,” I try to say nonchalantly. “It’s my mom’s sister, and that side of the family was never crazy about my dad.”
She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand, a knowing look on her face. As much as I try to pretend that I’m totally fine with my mom being gone now, it still stings every time she gets brought up.
“I’d love to meet them,” she says gently. “When are you thinking?”
“They’re doing some kind of mini family reunion next weekend, and they asked if I wanted to come. I said I would, but only if I could bring you.”
She smiles, my heart nearly bursting in my chest the way it does every damn time she looks at me.
“I would love to go. I need more dirt–I mean stories–about baby Griffin,” she says, smile turning wicked.
Mental note–bribe your cousins to hide all the family photo albums.
As shocked as I am that Aunt Lizzie invited me, I can’t wait for them to meet this girl–woman? Angel on earth?
And honestly, I can’t wait for her to meet them.
Some of my happiest childhood memories are from the summers we spent at the lake with Lizzie and Ryan, and their boys, Harrison and Hunter.
Harrison is two years younger than me, and Hunter two years younger than him.
We were thick as thieves, until Ryan’s job moved them an hour north of Larkspur and they took up permanent residence in the lake house.
In reality it’s only about fifty miles, but it might as well have been on the other side of the world for how far away it felt. Still feels.
Gazing across the table, transfixed by my golden ray of sunshine, I realize that it doesn’t hurt like it used to–the way it felt like an entire half of my family dropped me as soon as my mom bowed out.
Between my dad, David and Jack, and my darlin’ Eleanor, I’ve got all the love and support a guy could dream of having.
“Do I have something on my face?” she asks, and I realize I’ve been silently staring at her for the better part of five minutes. She doesn’t, but I reach across and swipe my thumb along her chin anyway, desperate for any excuse I can find to touch her.
“Your face is perfect,” I say, my voice surprisingly thick with emotion. “Most beautiful sight in the world.”
She shakes her head in amusement, setting down her silverware and folding her hands under her chin to prop her head up. “You sure are a smooth talker, Griffin Hart.”
“I mean every word.”
“I never said I didn’t like it,” she says, “I’m just waiting for the day you run out of sweet things to say to me.”
Now it’s my turn to shake my head at her. I could talk non-stop, twenty four hours a day, every day, for the rest of my life, and never hit the bottom of the well of how I feel about her.
“Never gonna happen,” I say with the same assurance as I would saying the sky is blue. “I’ll even make sure to write it all down so it’s recorded in history when I’m dead and gone.”
“Well I’ll never be reading that,” she says. When I raise my eyebrows at her, she continues, “I fully intend on dying first. No way I’m doing any of this by myself.”
We pivot back to more lighthearted topics for the rest of dinner, then take the long way back before I drop her off for the night.
Parked out in front of her house, we make out in my truck for a solid twenty minutes before her porch light flickers on, signaling that her parents know we’re here and absolutely know what we’re doing.
With one last quick kiss, she leaps from my truck, yelling “I love you, cowboy” as she walks backwards toward her house, only turning away from me once she reaches the front door.
I can’t wipe the grin off my face the whole drive home. Or as I get ready for bed. In fact, I’m pretty sure I fall asleep with a smile on my face, memories of days spent with Eleanor far better than any dream I might find in sleep.
***
“Do I look okay?” Eleanor asks nervously, spinning around in a baby blue sundress, completely knocking the wind out of me.
The thin straps have her freckled shoulders on full display, the swell of her breasts barely visible above the modest sweetheart neckline.
The soft fabric cinches in at her waist, accentuating her curves before flowing down to just above her knee.
Between the hue of her dress and her sun-kissed skin, her blue eyes sparkle brighter than I’ve ever seen.
“You need to change,” I say flatly.
“What?” she says, eyes widening in fear. “Is it too much? Or too casual?”
“I can’t focus on my family reunion if all I’m thinking about is tearing that dress off of you and taking you to the nearest bed I can find.”
Her expression immediately turns from nervous to exasperated.
“Griffin, you scared the shit out of me,” she scolds. “I’m already nervous enough, don’t do that to me.”
“I’m sorry, darlin’,” I say, pulling her in close and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You look beautiful. Don’t change a thing.”
“Thank you,” she says, almost begrudgingly. A low laugh rumbles in my chest and I squeeze her tighter.
An hour later we pull up to the lakehouse, my heart instantly warming with nostalgia and excitement. I’ve always loved this place, and didn’t realize how much I missed it until right now.
“You ready, darlin’?”
She nods, nervously chewing on her bottom lip and twisting the fabric of her dress in her hands. I reach out and take her hand in mine, bringing it to my mouth for a quick kiss, then step out of my truck and move around the front to open her door.
“Aw hell, who invited this jackass?”
Grinning so wide it makes my cheeks hurt, I turn toward the voice bellowing from the porch.
“They still haven’t given you back to the orphanage yet, huh?” I yell in response.
Hunter bounds down the steps, gripping me in a tight hug once we reach the house.
“Y’all might have gotten me with that when we were kids, but it’d be a lot more believable if I wasn’t a carbon copy of my mom,” he laughs. “I missed you dude, how the hell have you been?”
“I’ve been good,” I say, clapping his shoulder. “Eleanor, this is my second-favorite cousin, Hunter. Hunter, this is Eleanor, my girlfriend.”
“First of all, I’m definitely his favorite.” His expression turning grave, his next question comes out in a low, somber voice. “How long does he have?” he asks, looking at Eleanor.
“I’m sorry, what?” she says, smiling nervously, a confused look on her face. “He’s sick, right? That’s gotta be why Make-A-Wish assigned you to be his girlfriend. Because I know you can’t be dating him voluntarily.”
He ducks quickly, cackling as he narrowly avoids the hand I raised to smack him upside the head.
To my surprise, Eleanor frowns deeply, slowly nodding her head and patting me on the arm. “He doesn’t have long, but he’s being very brave about it.”
He lets out a roar of laughter, wrapping his arms around Eleanor and lifting her off the ground in something more like a tackle than a hug.
“I like her. Can we keep you even after you get rid of him?”
“I’ll talk to my supervisors and see what I can do,” she says teasingly as she tucks in to my side and wraps her arms around my waist.
Hunter leads us inside, shouting for everyone to come say hi as we follow behind him. Eleanor yelps when I give her a playful smack on this ass.
“You’re supposed to be on my side here,” I murmur, low enough so only she can hear.
“I need to win them over,” she says out of the corner of her mouth. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
Music to my ears.
The rest of the afternoon is a blur of introductions, yard games, and repeatedly answering “how have you been?” and “what’s your father doing these days?
” and “I can’t believe you’re old enough to have graduated!
” until my head spins. Eleanor and I got separated when Hunter dragged her into a game of cornhole against Lizzie and Ryan, and my gaze swivels to seek her out more often than not.
Everyone adores her, like I knew they would.
She’s effortlessly charming, her quick wit and natural kindness winning them over just as fast as they reeled me in.
The few times she’s happened to look up at me the same time I’m looking at her, she smiles so brightly that I go weak in the knees.
She’s currently standing by the drinks table with Lizzie, her lemonade sloshing precariously in her solo cup as she talks animatedly, Lizzie’s shoulders clearly shaking with laughter as she shoots me a furtive glance.
I don’t think I want to know what she’s saying, actually.
When the first lightning bugs make their appearance with the setting sun, the whole group makes their way inside to a makeshift dining table made up of about four folding tables lined up end to end.
I don’t know how we manage it, but soon enough all thirty-ish of us are seated, passing dishes along as we fill our plates.
After passing a dish to Ryan’s brother, my Uncle Tim, Eleanor leans in close, whispering in my ear.
“I’m having so much fun. Do you think they like me?”
“They love you,” I whisper back, squeezing her thigh under the table. “Who wouldn’t?”
She kisses me softly on the cheek before turning back to the table to resume her conversation about books with my cousin Carter.
The table is boisterous, but not overwhelming–it just sounds like a group of people that love each other deeply (and loudly).
“So Ellie,” Uncle Tim starts. “You guys just graduated?”
“Yes, sir,” she says, nodding. “Just before Memorial Day.”
“Congrats, kiddos,” he says, tipping his glass in my direction. “What’s next for you?”