Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Ruby
I curl up on my thrift-store loveseat. The bright purple floral pattern is loud even for me, but I’m convinced there’s no comfier seat in this town. I stare at the ceiling, looking for clarity about Griffin Renshaw.
I can’t stop thinking about his lips, the warmth of his beard pressed against my cheek, the quiet strength in his voice when he consoled me. There were sparks shooting from everywhere.
When he left, it took all my self-control to keep from running outside like a lunatic and jumping back into his strong arms.
I can’t explain my feelings. The guy is a human thundercloud. And yet, when he heard about my late husband, Griffin’s whole face softened. Not dramatically, but enough that I felt it. A shift. A reassuring, I’m here kind of shift.
How does someone go from glowering at my two-for-one rose suggestion to being gentle with my grief?
And it’s not just that. Word around town is that Griffin has been quietly helping Nick fix up the Timberline Inn. No fanfare, no thanks expected. Grumpy men don’t just wander around sanding banisters for fun.
Then there’s the way he listens to all my mad, ramblings about wedding bouquets, the cotillion, and whether the community theater really needs thirty-two fake trees for their spring musical.
He listens, even when I know I’m too much for most people.
“What am I doing?” I ask the ceiling.
I shouldn’t like him. I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about him.
But every time he’s near, I feel that tug in my chest, the one that says the grump on the outside is not the whole story.
Which is ridiculous.
And completely impossible to ignore.