Page 65 of Mess With Me

My stomach does a little swirl. What does Chester see between us? We haven’t pretended to be together with him the way we did with Jude.

I pick up my toast, then set it down again.

Griffin abruptly gets up and goes inside.

“Somethin’ I said?” Chester asks.

“I don’t really know,” I say honestly, digging back into my eggs. “But I’ve stopped trying to figure him out.”

Chester settles back down on the railing. “All I figure is he’s a good man, Griffin Kelly. Did you know he saved my life.”

I set my fork down. “Really?” Seems to be a theme for Griffin Kelly. “What happened? If you don’t mind sharing.”

“My furnace went out last winter. I had a bit too much of my summer hootch to keep warm and, well, I fell asleep next to the fire in the living room. Almost didn’t wake up. Griff came by to check on me, though, thank the heavens. Found me near froze to death.”

My throat goes tight, thinking of this poor man all on his own.

Thank God for Griffin.

“He’s a good man to have around.”

Chester smiles kind of sadly. “That he is.”

We’re both silent for a moment as I take another sip of coffee. Then I set my mug down. “Hey, Chester?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Did you ever want to get married?”

“You mean besides to my girls?”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “To a human. Or…humans, I guess.”

He shrugs. “Us Browns—we never had much luck in love.”

I laugh, dryly. “Sounds like my family.”

Chester gives me a sympathetic look. “Your parents ain’t together?”

“They’re together. They just kind of…greatly dislike each other.”

He nods sagely. “They got married for the wrong reasons.”

That’s putting it mildly. “They got married after some newspaper discovered my father was hiding a secret lovechild.”

Chester whistles. “Almost as bad as my grandpop getting his heart broke and swearing off society. Always said nature couldn’t hold a candle to his true love, but it sure tried.”

The sentiment is so sweet I want to write it down.

But I still can’t figure out how a hermit produced grandchildren. “How’d you come to fruition if he was living out here, Chester? Out of curiosity.”

“Me personally? My pa knocked up his housekeeper.”

If I was drinking my coffee, I’d be the one to choke this time.

Chester thinks this is hilarious, of course, and laughs hard enough I’m worried he’s going to lose a lung.

I’m still confused, though—if his dad and his grandpa were both recluses, did they live here together? When he calms down, I ask him.

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