CHAPTER FOUR #3

“Well, yeah. My sabbatical in Bayshore is because I got laid off, so…”

Griffin’s face creases with sympathy. “Damn. I’m sorry, Case.”

“It’s okay. I’m already on the job hunt for my next job in Chicago.

” My voice sounds hollow to my own ears, but I hope he doesn’t notice it.

“I’ve been reaching out to my marketing network in the city, seeing who has any leads.

In the meantime, I want something for the interim here in Bayshore.

To keep me busy and, you know, not go crazy. ”

Griffin nods as we resume our walk to the coffee shop. “Where have you applied?”

“Pretty much every food and customer service position available in downtown Bayshore,” I admit with a laugh. “No callbacks yet, but it’s still early.”

“Have you tried Brews on the Bay?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“No. That’s on the other side of town, right? I’ve never been there.”

“Yeah, it’s a newer place. Like part open air beach bar, part fancy cocktail place. It’s really cool. I know the guy who owns it, and he mentioned recently that he was looking for a new bartender.”

My eyes widen. I like the sound of everything he just said. I could do that job for the summer, and I might even have fun doing it. “Could you let him know I’m his if he wants me?”

“Absolutely.”

We approach the front door of The Daily Grind, and Griffin pulls the door open, holding it open for me.

A puff of coffee-scented air greets me as I breeze into the shop, Griffin behind me.

I begin walking quickly toward the front counter, where there’s no line, eager to order our drinks and pay before Griffin does.

But he must have sensed what my plan was because he rushes forward, overtaking me before I reach the counter.

We both burst into laughter as I fight to get ahead of him. But there’s no hope. He’s too big, too strong, and too intent on paying.

“Here, take my money and get her whatever she wants,” Griffin says, sliding the barista a $20 bill despite my protests. “I’ll have a cappuccino.”

I give the barista my order and we step off to the side to wait for the drinks. I’m smiling up at him, getting lost in the depths of his slate blue eyes.

“I thought I’d beat you,” I say.

“You’ll never beat a hockey player in sprinting,” he says with a cocky grin. His gaze drifts back toward the counter. “Is the manager here?”

I scan the coffee shop, then shake my head. “I don’t see her. I guess I’ll check in next week again, if nothing pans out with Brews on the Bay.”

When our drink orders are ready, Griffin reaches for his coffee at the same time a text comes in. He’s frowning down at his phone as we slowly head for the door.

“Looks like I need to head out a little early,” Griffin says, pocketing the phone. The news punctures my heart a little, only because I am lapping up every available moment with this man. “My PT just said there’s a little change to the schedule.”

I nod, unnerved by how disappointed I am. I just want to stay right here. With him. “Hey, it’s no problem. I’ll pick out some honey just for you, don’t worry.”

He flashes me a smile so handsome I think I could crumple to my knees in reverence.

“You gonna be okay?” He drags his teeth along his bottom lip, and I am transfixed.

“Yes, Griffin. I will be okay existing until the end of the farmer’s market when I can get into my car.” I laugh, but I’m also a little embarrassed that he thinks I need this much intervention. “This coffee should help things.”

“Okay.” He pauses, like he’s thinking twice. I step forward to hug him, then stall halfway — maybe we're not actually hugging-level friends. His arms lift, drop, lift again like a malfunctioning crossing gate.

“Just give me a hug,” I finally say, reaching my arms around his big body, careful not to spill my drink. The hug he gives me in return is quick and friendly, not at all tinged with the passion I feel thumping through my veins as our chests briefly touch.

“See ya, Case,” he says as he heads for the door. I watch his perfect, powerful frame leave, not even caring that I probably look like a fangirl, puck bunny, or whatever they call the women who pine after handsome, professional athletes who are both sweet and protective.

I draw a deep breath once he’s out of sight, trying to get myself back to baseline. My entire body is warm and tingly after being around him. Every second spent with Griff reminds me I might actually be in love with him.

But there’s no way in hell he feels that way about you.

My inner critic is back. What fun. I sip my iced coffee, trying to stop the spiral before it sets in. I look out the big bay windows overlooking Bayshore, trying to focus on something. Anything.

You’re nowhere near his league, and you know it.

I can’t even argue with myself. It’s true. I might light up around him and would spend every waking moment in his presence if he’d let me, but the truth is simple.

I know the type of woman Griffin deserves, and it’s not someone like me: jobless, drifting, small.

I could never go after a man like Griffin when I’m such a hot mess.

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