Page 168 of Mess With Me

I still wake up in a panic some days, but Griffin’s always there, reminding me that we’re still counting time in days since it happened.

But the no sex thing? I’ve about had it.

When I woke up for the second time this morning, I was ready to tell him how perfectly fine my head feels. It does. But Griff was gone. He’d left a little note scrawled on the hotel notepad on the bedside table, letting me know he was getting coffees downstairs at the Rolling Hills’ gorgeous restaurant, L’Aubergine.

Thoughtful jerk.

But now is definitely the time. I take a sip of my coffee now, closing my eyes to enjoy the rush of caffeine and piping hot milk.

Then I set my phone down and mentally rub my hands together.

Griffin’s gotten up to check his phone, so he hasn’t yet noticed that I took my clothes off while he was gone.

“Ford’s offer went through,” he says, his back to me. Last week, Ford put an offer on a house in North Road, Ohio, sight unseen.

His partner’s wasted no time since they decided to start their business, even though it’s still up in the air whether Griffin will join him in Ohio. At least it is for Griff. I’ve told him that no matter what, I’m not standing in the way of his dreams.

“Pending conditions,” Griff adds.

“Pending what?” I’ve risen up onto my elbows. The sheet’s clinging for dear life to the very tips of my breasts.

I will Griffin to turn around.

“Conditions of sale,” he says over his shoulder. “The agent said—”

Then Griffin does a double take and he turns around, his words trailing off.

“I told you I’m ready,” I say, rising up a little higher, daring the sheet to slip. “I think you are, too.”

He closes his eyes. “Lord, give me strength to control… Actually, never mind. I’m going to do some work.”

Eyes still closed, he heads out of the bedroom, his hands out in front of him. He disappears into the suite’s second bedroom, which he’s set up as a little office.

Seriously?

I scowl. I’m learning how to do that from the best. “Fine!” I call out, getting out of bed. I head to the bathroom with my latte and nothing else, but of course he can’t see me.

I step into the shower, thinking of all the times Griffin’s joined me. I bite my lip, soaping my ass for a good ten minutes, my eyes on the bathroom door.

But eventually I have to acknowledge he’s standing firm.

Once he gets into that room, working on things related to his business, he’s nearly impossible to distract. I really shouldn’t be such a brat. This business is everything to him, next to me.

I have to give him my answer soon. But Griffin won’t leave Quince Valley so long as Chester is still here. Neither will I.

We’ve visited Chester every day since the night he saved my life. His doctors didn’t want us to see him at first, but Chester—and Griffin—put up such a stink, they quickly gave up.

The good news is he went home last week. Just as I knew would happen, Griffin pulled out all the stops. He hired round-the-clock nursing staff for his friend, as well as an additional care aide. Plus a housekeeper who comes every day—an efficient and flamboyant man called Lucas, who texts us with all the updates when we’re not there in person.

Yesterday we were there at the same time as the doctor. He told us in a hushed voice on the front porch that Chester could have a few weeks left—or he could go any day.

Most nights I can handle it. But last night I couldn’t stop the tears from coming, and when Griffin held me close while I soaked his shirt, I felt him breaking apart a little, too.

I told Griffin what Chester told me that night on his back porch when everything went so terribly wrong—at least, the part about Joseph not really being his grandfather. But I didn’t tell him Chester’s personal story—it’s not mine to tell. Likewise, I’m withholding my theories on who Joseph is, too, until I know more.

I know Lucas is helping Chester organize Joseph’s things. I’ve caught glimpses into that back room; there are boxes everywhere. When I’ve asked Chester if I can help, he keeps saying not yet.

I don’t want to remind either of us that the yet can’t be pushed off forever.

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