Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Griffin
T he coffeehouse is small, the kind of place with scuffed floors and chalkboard menus, but Reese looks right at home with her hands wrapped around a mug, her cheeks pink from the morning chill.
I can’t stop touching her. My knee brushes hers under the table, my thumb stroking the back of her hand where it rests on my thigh. My palm drifts higher, tracing the curve of her waist like I need the reminder she’s really here. She never once pulls away.
“I need to talk to you about something,” she says, and my stomach drops.
For a second, I’m sure it’s about him.
Vander.
I saw his name flash across her phone last night, another call she ignored. I almost asked, but the way she looked at me—soft, wrecked, completely mine—I couldn’t ruin that moment.
I let it go then. Now I’m not sure I can.
Forcing a smile, I shift in my seat. “This sounds serious.”
“It’s not bad.” She hesitates, eyes on the swirl of steam rising from her cup. “It’s just that I haven’t felt this settled in forever. I can finally breathe. And it made me think about you. What you want.”
My chest loosens. Not Vander. Us.
“What do you mean?”
She lifts her gaze, steady and searching. “Your landscape architecture business. Is that something you’re excited about… or are you just trying it on to see if it fits?”
I don’t have to think about my response. “I love it, and I’m good at it. That patio I constructed for the ranch? Watching everyone gather there made me feel like I’d built something that mattered.”
“You’re incredibly talented,” she agrees, giving me a smile that melts straight through me.
“Appreciate it.”
Then her smile fades just a touch. “But you shouldn’t have to rely on Lauren to make it happen.”
“Well, that’s no longer a possibility. She had stringent parameters in her deal, which I couldn’t abide.”
Reese tips her head and giggles, her fingers drumming the side of her cup. “Oh, hell no. She’s not marrying my man. That’s my job.”
Her words hit like a sucker punch. She’s in this, just as deep as I am.
Trust me, there’s no better feeling in the whole damn world.
“Reese—”
“But here’s the thing.” She cuts me off gently, sliding her hand fully into mine. “I have a 401k. Been saving for years. I was thinking about cashing some of it out. Enough to get your business started without Lauren.”
I shake my head. “Reese, no. I don’t want your money. I just want you.”
“I know.” Her voice is steady, but her grip tightens on my hand. “But I want us. And I want us to have a future that isn’t dependent on anyone else. You’re a damn good investment, Griffin.”
That line sticks like a blade in my chest—sharp, sweet, unforgettable.
But it’s also unexpected and a bit overwhelming.
I ease my hand out of hers, my palms pressing against my thighs as I lean back. “Can we just enjoy today? Let me stew on it?”
She nods. “Fair. Just promise you’ll think about it.”
“Promise,” I murmur, pushing up from the table. “But first, a refill. You want one?”
“Always,” she says with a smile, and I know I’m ruined for life.
I slide back into my chair a few minutes later, the mugs warm in my hands, steam curling up between us.
My phone buzzes against the table, screen lighting with a message from Lauren.
Lauren: I need to arrive early to the fundraiser. Does that work for you?
Shit. Of course she’d pick now to send a text.
I lock the screen without answering, but the damage is done. The reminder sits heavy in my chest.
I need to let Reese know about Lauren’s request.
God, I don’t want to. Don’t want to scuff the shine on our day.
But I swore I’d never hide the truth from her, and I’m not about to start now.
I clear my throat. “Actually, I need to tell you something, too. It’s about Lauren.”
Her expression slips, her lips pressing together. She rubs the back of her neck, gaze darting away. “I get now why you didn’t enjoy being on the receiving end of that sentence. Is it bad?”
“I hope not.”
The warmth fades from her face, and I drag a hand across my jaw, stumbling forward.
“There’s a fundraiser next week in Tangled Vines for the new critical access hospital.
Lauren asked me months ago to go as her date—strictly a friend thing.
More like a bodyguard gig. She wants backup since a few adversaries will be there, and…
” My voice trails as I watch her face fall.
“Shit.”
“I’ll cancel,” I blurt. “Tell her I can’t make it. I just figured the money would be helpful, but it’s not worth your worrying for one second.”
She turns her gaze to her coffee as her teeth worry her lower lip. “You know, I have to ask—and tell me if I’m being too personal—but how much do you get paid for being a piece of arm candy?”
“Seven-fifty for four hours,” I admit.
Her brows lift. “That’s a ton of money for one night. More than some people make in a week.” She hesitates, voice softer. “Is it really that bad for her, being around those people?”
I shrug. “She claims it is. How did you like Vander’s friends?”
A small shudder ripples through her frame. “Fair point. It was awful. All that money and no one was happy. It’s like a twisted sickness of the ultra-elite. Actually, I’m going to be at that fundraiser, too.”
“Then I’m definitely not going with Lauren. Case closed.”
A hint of mischief crosses Reese’s face. “Or you earn $750 for a few hours while sampling gourmet food and drooling over me in my new cocktail dress.”
“No way I’ll be able to keep my hands off you. I’ll be useless as Lauren’s bodyguard.”
Reese shakes a finger at me, grinning. “You’ll be ravenous, too. It has a slit that goes up to here.” She motions to her upper thigh and shoots me a wink.
“You do not play fair.”
“Of course not.” She takes another sip of her coffee, feigning innocence. “The money is too good to pass up. Go protect your friend. Just make sure she knows you come home to me.”
I cover her hand with mine. “Reese, you are my home.”
Her eyes glisten at my words. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that.”
“You think you can stand me for the rest of your life?” I murmur, my lips brushing hers.
Her fingers glide up, the back of her hand brushing along my cheek. “I think I can manage it.”
The kiss starts soft, but it doesn’t stay there. Heat claws in under the sweetness, and suddenly I can’t get enough.
Reese pulls back just enough to whisper, “Careful. The toddler at the next table is staring at us, and I don’t think his parents are ready for the birds-and-bees talk.”
I chuckle, glancing over my shoulder at the wide-eyed kid. “Then how are we going to explain it to our toddler? Because I plan on kissing you a whole hell of a lot.”
She leans in, her lips curling in a grin. “Is this the first, second, or third kid we’re talking about?”
“First, second, third, or fourth, you mean.”
Her laugh is low and wicked. “Well, after last night, I could see four being a possibility.”
And in that moment, I see it—my entire future. The life I always wanted but never believed I’d get. A home. A family. Happiness.
Her. Always her.
I rest my forehead against hers, smiling against her lips. “Beautiful, with you, everything’s a possibility.”
We’ve been meandering down Main Street for over an hour, ducking into shops as the late afternoon light spills across the storefront windows.
One stop stands out more than the rest. At the jewelry store, Reese slowed at the window, her gaze snagging on a delicate band crowned with a stone the color of a summer sunset—pink and orange fire.
“That’s the most beautiful stone I’ve ever seen. It looks like a sunset trapped in gold. I’ve never seen anything like it.” She didn’t say anything more. Didn’t drag me inside or drop hints about that ring in her future.
Reese would never do that.
Which is exactly why I need to know how much that gorgeous stone costs and figure out a way to slip it onto her finger.
Now seems the perfect opportunity, as she’s busy fingering a rack of fleece pajama sets, the kind plastered with moose and snowflakes—soft enough to curl into for a long winter night.
I dip down, brush a kiss against the back of her neck, and breathe in the faint trace of her shampoo. “I’ll be right back.”
She glances over her shoulder, holding up a pair of ridiculous pajama bottoms. “You don’t want to watch me try these sexy things on?”
I huff out a laugh. “Those are fleece, honey. Save some fun for later.”
Her cheeks flush pink as she swats at my chest, giggling. “Fine. Go.”
I linger just long enough to memorize that smile before stepping back onto the sidewalk—where my gaze immediately snags on the jewelry store across the street.
The bell over the door chimes when I step inside, the air carrying the faint tang of polish and metal. Glass cases sparkle under the lights, filled with promises I’ve never been able to afford. My boots sound too heavy on the tile, like I don’t belong here.
Until I see it.
According to the display card, it’s a padparadscha sapphire. One carat, fire and sunset caught in crystal. Unique. Rare. Just like her.
“Beautiful piece, isn’t it?” The jeweler, an older guy with kind eyes, says as he slips out from the back. “Hard to come by. Mind if I take it out for you?”
I nod, throat tight, and he unlocks the case, setting the ring on a velvet pad. Even under the shop lights, it blazes. My pulse kicks hard.
He glances at me, then grins. “Guess your lady is the one I saw across the street, poking at those flannel pajamas?”
A laugh shakes out of me. “Moose-print fleece. Sexy as hell.”
He chuckles. “That’s one way to spend an afternoon.” His finger brushes the tag. “Eight thousand. One carat. Clean stone. Worth every penny.”
Eight thousand. Shit. It’s magnificent, and so far out of reach it might as well be on the moon.
The jeweler studies me for a moment, his voice softening. “We do layaway. Normally five hundred down, but two-fifty would lock it in for thirty days. Give you time to decide. And if you change your mind, you get the money back.”