Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Griffin
“ E nough of my tale of woe.” Reese tucks her legs under her, fixing me with her dark eyes. “Your turn. What are you doing here, Griffin? How did you wind up in this line of work, since it’s obvious you don’t enjoy it?”
“That’s an understatement.” I release a slow breath and steel myself to explain my story.
“I owned a construction company for a few years. Good work—restorations, remodels. But then the economy tanked, and the jobs dried up. Clients stopped paying, and I was left holding the bag. At twenty-six, I was broke, with nearly ten grand a month in bills.”
Reese gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Ten thousand? Jesus, Griffin. How many kids are you supporting?”
I bark out a mirthless laugh. “None yet. Remember, we agreed on three.” At her faint blush, I add, softer, “I take care of my sister, Pearl.”
Her expression softens. “How come?”
“It’s my fault her life changed that night.” After all these years, the words still taste like iron.
“What does that mean?”
Everyone close to me knows about Pearl, but I rarely delve into the specifics regarding that night.
“My parents asked me to babysit, but I threw a fit because I wanted to hang out with my friends and play video games. So they took her along to their party instead. Got drunk. Drove home. Hit an embankment. Mom and Dad walked away without a scratch.” My voice hitches at the memory of that night. “Pearl wasn’t that lucky.”
Reese sets her glass down with deliberate care, like she’s preparing herself for the worst. “What happened?”
“She was thrown from the vehicle. Broke her back. A T8 fracture. Complete. She’s used a wheelchair since she was eight.
” I drag a hand over my jaw, wishing I could erase the number from my head.
“If I’d just stayed home, she wouldn’t have been in that car.
I know it wasn’t really on me, but hell if I haven’t carried it every day since. Hindsight’s a bitch, right?”
“It’s not your fault, Griffin. It was a terrible accident, and I’m sure Pearl would tell you the same.”
I nod, although I’ve never allowed myself to believe it. “She has. More times than I can count. You’d love her, Reese. The woman is pure sunshine. The strongest, funniest person I know. Stubbornest, too.”
Reese chuckles. “A force of nature, huh?”
“Total understatement. But two years ago, I damn near lost her again to pneumonia. Scared the hell out of me. She had to do rehab after, and she dreaded it. Hated rehab after the accident. But this place was different. They specialized in treating people with spinal cord injuries. Cutting-edge equipment, staff who actually gave a damn. The place looked more like a resort than a rehab. Pearl flew through it, coming out stronger than before. Happier, too.”
“Wish all rehabs were like that,” Reese murmurs.
“Then she found out about the independent living side—apartments on the grounds, a built-in community if she needed it. She wanted to stay there so damn badly. But the catch? Ten grand a month. Insurance doesn’t cover a dime.
Watching her face fall…” I shake my head.
“She’s my best friend in the world and I’d do anything for her.
Since Mom died, we’re all each other has. ”
“What about your dad?”
I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth at the mere mention of the man. “No. He can’t be bothered. Pearl and I take care of each other. Always have. But it means I’m running uphill most days, just trying to keep up.”
Reese regards me for a long beat, lips pursed, then nods once as if reaching a decision. “Don’t get mad at what I’m about to do.”
Before I can clarify what she means, she wraps her arms around me. I’m not a hugger, but with Reese, I melt. She feels like home, and I’d stay in her arms all night if she’d let me.
“In case no one’s told you today—you’re a really good man.”
The words gut me. I want to believe them, but good isn’t a word I’ve heard in a long time. This past year I’ve been called a lot of things—hot, sexy, talented, gorgeous. Never good. Not once.
After selling pieces of myself night after night, I started to wonder if there was a soul left beneath the act.
But Reese looks at me like she sees it. Like she sees me.
I huff out a rough breath, pulling back to meet her gaze. “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Her grin tugs softly at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes don’t waver. “Just take the compliment.”
“Fine.”
I play it off, but she doesn’t realize how deeply her words sink into my marrow.
How much I needed to hear them.
“Anyway, after my business went belly up, I needed a plan. Something steady to make sure Pearl could stay where she wanted, not where circumstances might have forced her. One night, when I was playing a gig?—”
Reese’s brows shoot up. “Wait, you’re a musician, too?”
“Yeah. I sing and play guitar.”
“Of course you do.” She throws up her hands with a laugh before pointing at my stomach. “Let me guess—an eight-pack under there, right? Because a standard six-pack would never do.”
I hook my fingers in the hem of my shirt, teasing. “Maybe. Want to see?”
Her chuckle is throaty, warm. She presses my hand down. “Keep your clothes on, cowboy. Finish your story.”
First time in a year a woman’s told me to keep my clothes on.
And God help me, it’s ridiculously fucking appealing.
“Where was I? Oh yeah. I was working whatever jobs I could find. Day labor. Site work. Nowhere near enough money, though. One night I met Dorian?—”
“The one in the photo on Capri’s desk?”
I nod. “Her not-so-secret secret crush? That’s him. He came to one of my gigs. We talked afterward and he told me about the ranch, and how much money I could earn.”
Reese rests her chin in her hand. “And that was it? You just signed on?”
“Not right away. I wrestled with it all night, but survival doesn’t care about pride. Every other option was a dead end. The next day, I came down to the ranch, met Capri. She offered me a job on the spot.”
“And you took it.”
My gaze drifts past her to the far wall, desperate to focus anywhere but her dark eyes. I cringe to know what I might find hiding in their depths. “Yeah. Money isn’t an issue anymore.”
All it has cost me is my soul. My dreams. My plans of a wife and family one day.
“Do you hate it?”
If she only knew how much. “Yes.”
Reese grabs her glass of wine, scooting back against the cushion. “I hate it, too. Sex, I mean.”
Did not expect that segue in the conversation. “Why?”
“After Vander cheated so many times, I wondered what was wrong with me. I know it’s his fault, but still that little voice in my head dropped ideas that if I were prettier, or sexier, or more adventurous, then maybe he wouldn’t have strayed.”
I didn’t think I could hate her ex more. But I do.
“Bullshit.” It bursts out before I can leash it. “First, it is his fault. All of it. You’re beautiful, Reese. Smart. Funny. Caring. You’re everything a man could want.”
“But he didn’t, except on his terms.”
“Screw what he wants. What do you want? That’s the important question.”
She downs another swallow of wine. “Honestly? I want a man who makes me tingle. Makes me believe in love. A guy who will bash through every wall and claim my heart.”
“Now who’s the romantic?” I keep my tone light, but inside I’m already mapping out my plan, because I want to be that man for her.
Are there obstacles? Absolutely.
Is she worth it? Every single one.
“I’m a wannabe romantic. Unfortunately, I’ve never dated a man like that. Not that I should date any man right now, all things considered. Funny, but it’s probably for the best that I’m working at a brothel.”
“Why is that?”
“Because no matter how attractive I might find one of the residents, they’re off-limits.”
The words spear through me. Not surprising, but Christ—it still feels like taking a bullet. I knew Reese wouldn’t consider anything with a man like me, but hearing it aloud makes it real, and real is worse.
Her gaze drifts back to the fire, while I sit here choking on the truth.
She’ll never be mine. So long as I work at the ranch, she’s out of reach.
The air in the cabin feels heavy, weighted with confessions neither of us was ready for. Enough moping for one evening. We deserve a bit of beauty.
I take the wineglass from her hand, set it aside, and stand. “Come on. Let me take you somewhere special.”
I gesture toward the front door—or at least I mean to. My hand slips the wrong way, toward the bedroom.
Reese peeks around me, her brow quirking. “In the bedroom?”
No, but yes, but no, damn it. Now I’m picturing her naked in my bed.
And now other body parts are waking up.
Cooperate, buddy. Take it down a notch.
I shake my head. “I meant the front door.”
She giggles, wiping her hand across her brow. “Whew. That’s good, because honestly? I wouldn’t know what to do with a guy like you. Wouldn’t know where to begin.”
She has no idea— no idea how fucking wrong she is. With her messy waves, her wide eyes, that old-Hollywood grace wrapped in modern vulnerability—she’s everything.
I pause, dragging my gaze over her. “Pretty sure you know exactly what to do with me. And I’m damn sure it’d be incredible.”
Did not mean to say that aloud. From the shocked expression crossing her gorgeous features, she didn’t expect it either.
The words hang there, charged, as one thought circles my brain.
I want to kiss her. Kiss away every doubt, every belief that she’s not good enough.
But one kiss wouldn’t be enough. Not by a mile.
And she’s already confirmed I’m not an option.
Time to get my head on straight. Both of them.
“Come on, darlin’. Let’s go.”
She shoots me a mischievous glance before popping to her feet. “Should I be worried?”
“Around me? Never. This is special. And it’ll only be here for a couple more days.”
“Lead the way.”
I drive the four-wheeler to the highest bluff on the property. Besides my cabin, it’s my favorite place on the ranch, and tonight Mother Nature is showing off—the sky painted in fierce strokes of orange and pink.
Reese’s look says everything as she climbs off the ATV, her face bathed in the glow.
“Griffin, this is unreal.” Awe softens her voice.
Then her lips curve—those lips I’m fighting the urge to taste—as her gaze dips to the fields below.
“Sunflowers and lavender. My favorite flowers. What are the chances?”
What are the chances indeed—that my soulmate shows up when I least expect her? I’m already gone for this woman, hopelessly smitten, and I know it’s only going to get worse.
She moves to the edge of the bluff and leans against an old oak tree, her hair catching the last streaks of sunlight. “Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”
“Beyond.” But I’m not looking at the horizon. I focus on her. Reese is the only view I want.