Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Reese
M aybe Piper’s right. Maybe I don’t need an epic, all-consuming love right now.
Maybe I just need to have fun—hell, get laid properly for once.
It’s been four days since I’ve seen Griffin, and that’s four days too long for my sanity. My heart’s already too invested in a man I shouldn’t want. A man who is off-limits in every way is never a good choice, no matter what my stupid heart thinks.
So when my sister invites me out with Colton and a few of his firefighter buddies, I say yes.
They’re gorgeous, they’re attentive, and most importantly, they’re accessible.
Sadly, Griffin isn’t.
And I tried to look pretty tonight. Slipped back into the dress he once complimented, added a little more mascara, glossed my lips. But no matter how many times I catch one of the guys staring at me, all I can think about is Griffin.
“I’ll be back. Need a refill.” I excuse myself from the table, grabbing my empty glass.
One of the firefighters leans closer, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. “I’ll get it for you. You don’t need to pay for a thing tonight.”
I slide free of his grip with a polite smile. “Thanks, but I can buy my own drinks.”
I stroll to the bar, shooting Jimmy a smile. “Can I get another one, please?”
“Aren’t you going to say hello to me?”
I cut my gaze to the left, my breath catching in my throat.
He’s here.
Griffin sits on the barstool, a beer bottle in hand, his cowboy hat perched low over his face. He stares straight ahead, fingers clamped around the bottle in a death grip.
“I didn’t see you come in. Jimmy, can you add a beer for Griffin to my tab?”
“I saw you .” His tone is low, edged. “Hard not to, with the way those men were looking at you. With the way you were smiling back.” He tilts his hat back with a finger, those blue eyes stormy as they rake over my figure. “You’re wearing that dress again.”
He looks pissed. At me? At them? Why?
The man disappears for four days with a client—one I’m sure he fucked every which way since Sunday—and now he’s cutting me an attitude because a guy smiled at me? Whatever.
I swipe my palms against the fabric, desperate to appear unaffected by his intense scrutiny. “I feel pretty in it.”
“Well, you’re not.” He pivots in my direction and raises his hand to trace a delicate line along my collarbone. “You’re stunning, belleza.”
Damn him and the way his words undo me.
But I can’t go there again. Not with him.
My heart and I aren’t on speaking terms as it is.
Time to slough off the compliments and downshift into small talk. Keep it cordial. Friendly.
Try desperately not to fall for the man.
Correction: fall harder for the man.
“I’m sure you know the guys. They’re local firefighters.” I take a sip of my drink, nodding toward the table. “Want to join us?”
“No.”
Okay then. I force a smile, the kind you paste on when you’re determined not to care. “Well, have a good evening, I guess.”
I pivot, ready to walk away, but the air shifts before I make it a step. Thickens. Crackles. The kind of tension that raises goosebumps along my arms even before his hand finds me.
Griffin’s fingers curl around my wrist, his grip firm, as he pulls me into his space.
“You didn’t let me finish.” There’s a roughness to his voice, one that matches the storm brewing in his eyes. “I don’t want to spend time with those guys. I want to spend time with you .”
My stomach does a little somersault, but I fight to maintain my neutral facade. I jut my chin toward the brim shading his eyes. “New hat?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs, gaze holding mine. “A gift. A thank-you for this weekend.”
And now my stomach wants to empty its contents right here on the bar.
No, no, no. We are not having this conversation. Not now. Not ever.
“Right. Lucky you.” The words slip out, sounding as hollow as I feel.
A fancy gift from a fancy woman for a fancy weekend.
I do not want to know what sexual acrobatics he performed to earn it, either.
Griffin takes a long pull off his beer. “The cookies you made were amazing. Your sister was right, you’re an incredible cook.”
I shrug, eyes on my whiskey glass. “They’re nothing. Who wants cookies and a silly note when you can get a $500 hat, right?”
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. “You mean this note?”
I blink. “You have it with you?”
My breath catches. That stupid little scrap of paper shouldn’t matter. Shouldn’t make my chest ache or my eyes sting. But there it is, soft and creased from being opened more than once. Like he’s actually kept it close.
“Always.” His voice softens, the storm receding just a fraction. “Have to keep a piece of you with me. Not quite the same as the real thing.”
He bites his lip, then reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. “I missed you.”
Oh, he needs to stop touching me.
To him, it’s probably nothing. To my affection-starved body, it’s everything.
I shrug away from his touch, taking a half step back into my space. “Did you have fun?”
“Not at all. But Lauren’s a friend, and she needed a friend this weekend.”
I nod, aiming for casual. Friends listen. They don’t flinch when someone mentions helping a wealthy client, right?
But the thought chokes me almost immediately.
“You know what I just realized this very second?” I wave my hand and turn toward the bar, eyes locking on the polished wood like it can anchor me. “I’m not comfortable hearing about the kind of… services you provide in your job.”
Griffin is on his feet in the next instant, leaning close and shrinking the space I just carved out. Seems every inch I move, he takes.
And I need space if I’m to think clearly around this man.
“It’s not like that. At all. I didn’t?—”
But Griffin doesn’t have time to finish his statement.
“Well, look who’s finally back in town.” A well-dressed woman sidles up to Griffin, interrupting our conversation. She reeks of money—from her expensive perfume to the gold jewelry dripping off her wrists.
She splays a manicured hand over Griffin’s chest, and for a split second I contemplate how long it would take me to break every finger.
“Where have you been, handsome?” she asks, tapping one long talon against his shirt. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Out of town.” His voice is easy enough, but there’s a tension lining his jaw as he crosses his arms over his chest.
I don’t know the woman. Never seen her before. But I loathe her instantly.
The way she’s standing so close and the familiarity in her voice and gestures tell me exactly who she is.
One of his clients.
Which means she knows Griffin… intimately. And vice versa.
Perfect. Exactly the reality check I needed.
Jimmy, where the hell are you with my refill?
I stare into my empty glass, swirl the melting ice with the swizzle stick, and pretend the air between Griffin and me isn’t thickening by the second. Screw it. I’ll get my drink later. What I need right now is distance—some corner where I can pretend this transaction isn’t happening in full view.
But I chance a last glance at Griffin.
The charge rising off him is palpable—his shoulders squared, stance stiff, eyes dark. And his lady friend is too wrapped up in her performance to notice.
Or maybe she doesn’t care.
“I heard a terrible rumor,” she purrs, trailing her fingertips from his chest to his biceps. “Some nonsense about you retiring.”
That catches my attention.
Second time I’ve heard that word in relation to Griffin, even though I know after his recent trip that it’s total horseshit.
Seems it’s a ready-made story for the man and honestly, who can blame him? We all need a good excuse once in a while. Like me, right now.
He downs his beer before clearing his throat. “You heard right.”
“That is unacceptable,” she replies, dismissing his claim with a wave of her hand. “Which is why I drove an hour to see you and talk you out of this crazy decision.”
“Nothing to discuss.”
“Oh, I think there is. Money talks, and I have plenty to sway you to my way of thinking.”
Is she serious?
Lady, take the L.
Jimmy walks toward us, drinks in hand. Thank God.
Time for me to go.
Griffin’s eyes flick to mine, and in that split second I see something raw crawl across his face. Not pain exactly—disgust. Like her touch is acid on his skin. Not a hint of heat or indulgence for her demands.
Just revulsion simmering behind his baby blues, the look you get right before you hurl.
Join the club, buddy.
And that’s it for me. As his client keeps pressing the issue, I feel the snap inside my chest.
Time for me to enter their chat, because I have no issue making a scene on Griffin’s behalf.
Look, I know what he does for a living, but no means no, period, and I’m tired of the ultra wealthy throwing around their money like it erases boundaries.
Plus, Griffin is my friend, and right now, he needs a bit of assistance. A decoy. A wingwoman. Or maybe just someone crazy enough to piss off one of his clients in public.
Here’s hoping he doesn’t kill me for it later.
I snag the beer Jimmy left on the bar and step into Griffin’s side, pressing it into his hand before resting my head against his arm. “Here’s your beer, baby.” I fix the woman with a bold stare. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
But his client has no use for me. She huffs out a breath, her cheeks reddening beneath her makeup. “Are you lying to me now? You just told me you retired.”
“That’s right.” Griffin slips his arm around my shoulders and skims his fingers up the side of my neck, just under my hairline, sending a skittering of tingles through my body.
“That tickles,” I murmur.
“I know.” He presses a kiss to my hair, but his hand doesn’t move.
Seems he’s playing along. Good. Time to take it up a notch.
I return my attention to the woman, who’s practically apoplectic at this point. “Is there something we can help you with, because I’d really like to spend some time alone with my boyfriend.”
“Your… boyfriend.”
“Yes. My boyfriend.”
The woman huffs out a breath and taps her foot against the floor. “We need to discuss this situation, Griffin. Privately.”
“No, you don’t. He told you he’s retired. That’s because of me. See, we’re planning on having oodles of sex, a big fancy wedding and four kids, at least. He’s going to be far too busy to entertain you.”
Griffin snorts out a laugh, his grip tightening on me.
Am I laying it on thick? Damn straight, but it’s way too much fun to watch the woman’s blood pressure rise with every word. And okay, maybe part of me wonders if Griffin is going to murder me later for tanking his client roster, but right now? Worth it.
“So, are we done here? I think we are.” I tip my chin toward Griffin. “Ready, handsome?”
His eyes spark, the corners of his mouth twitching as he fights back a smile. “So ready.”
“Good.”
I rise on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek.
Just to seal the deal.
An innocent gesture to send an obvious message this bitch can’t miss. He’s not some object to possess, and he’s sure as hell not yours.
When I start to pull back, Griffin doesn’t move.
His gaze catches mine, and something shifts—the spark of amusement I expected is gone, replaced by something hotter.
Something primitive. For a beat, it feels like he’s seeing straight through the act and into the part I didn’t mean to give away. The part that wants him far too much.
“You have no idea what you just started,” he murmurs, his voice husky with emotion.
He yanks me flush against him, one arm clamped around my waist, the other fisted in my hair. His mouth crashes down on mine—not sweet, not careful, but hard and claiming, the heat of him soaking through every layer between us.
My hands slide up his chest, but he’s not giving me an inch of space.
Not happening.
His fingers close around my wrists, pinning them between us as his lips drag against mine. “Don’t you dare move one inch from me,” he growls against my mouth.
Then he takes the kiss deeper, harder, like he’s going to devour me whole. With every demanding stroke of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth, the ache between my legs sharpens, hot and insistent. My body trembles, my thighs pressing together in a desperate attempt to ease the throb he’s stoking.
His grip shifts, sliding from my wrists to my hips, fingers biting into me like he’s memorizing the shape of my body through the thin fabric.
The move is slow and deliberate, a drag of possession before he pulls me tight against him.
There’s no mistaking his hard length pressing against me.
Heat slams through me, brutal and consuming, and for one dizzying second I swear I could come just from this—from his mouth owning mine, from the raw possession in every kiss, like the whole damn bar has vanished and I’m the only thing he sees.
His voice is a low, dangerous rumble between kisses. “If you even think about pulling that gorgeous mouth away, I’ll strip you bare right here and make you scream my name until everyone in this place knows who you belong to.”
The words shred the last of my restraint. I melt into him, opening for him completely, letting him take whatever he wants—because right now, I’m his, and we both know it.
I don’t know if it’s an act. I don’t know if it’s just a role he’s playing to get this woman away from him. And if it is? God help me, because I’m here for it.
Right now, I don’t care.
When he finally pulls away, my lips are swollen, my breath coming in short, uneven bursts.
The woman storms off, heels snapping across the floor. My head’s still spinning when Griffin grabs his beer and tips it toward the back of the bar, staking out our next move.
He glances toward my sister and her firefighter friends, all of whom are staring from their table slack-jawed, and says, “My girlfriend is spending the rest of the evening with me. Alone.”
Piper blinks at us, like she’s trying to process what she just witnessed, but she tips her drink in a little salute. Oh yes, my sister is going to want all the details later.