Page 4 of Griffin
"Nah, I had to pick up his scones."
"Guys, you're late," Dad said.
Theo grinned smugly at me.
"Uh, the scones, remember? Plus, I had to double back to pick up this idiot."
"Take the scones inside, Fin, and Theo, I've got you scheduled to work on framing with Greg's team."
It was my turn to grin smugly.
Theo headed to the trailer with lockers and hard hats, and I walked off with the scones.
"Hey, Fin, Ms. Kennedy is here, and please don't pile on the Stone charm right off the bat. Besides, she's married."
"Fuck, what kind of an animal do you think I am? And Katie came on to me. I didn't even encourage it. Not my fault she quit."
"She specifically used the word 'heartbroken' in her resignation letter. Just tone down the Stone-ness, right?"
"Don't forget I got all my animal instincts from my dad." I was pleased to get in the final word.
I reached the trailer and stepped inside. It was split into two halves. Dad's desk was at the front of the trailer and his office manager's desk was at the back. The new manager was bent down picking up some fallen pencils. I allowed myself to notice her nice ass before I turned off my "Stone-ness."
"Hello," I said. "Brought some scones." No reason I couldn't make myself the good guy, the person who brought in scones for her first day.
She straightened and twisted around. "It's you." The pencils fell from her hand. She waved her hands, flustered. "Could my fingers be any more buttery?"
I put the scones on the table and hurried over to help her. I'd noticed her nice perfume on the pier, but it smelled even better not muted by the odors of a fishing pier.
I handed her the pencils I retrieved. Our fingers brushed past each other, and for some reason, her touch stayed on my skin long after I'd pulled my hand away. I also noticed the gold band on her ring finger, which, given Dad's lecture five minutes ago, was probably a good thing. She peered up at me with big brown eyes. They were glinting with amusement as she once again mentioned her buttery fingers.
"Shay, right?" I asked even though I knew damn well that was her name.
"Yes, and you're Griffin. You're Colt's son." She smiled. "My goodness, those are some amazing family genes."
I smiled. "Call me Fin. Have you recuperated from your harrowing morning? Scones are probably the last thing you want."
"Actually, since I only got two bites of mine this morning, I'm looking forward to eating one without pigeons watching. I hope I do well here. I really need the job, and your dad seems like a cool boss." She looked at me with a hopeful eyebrow raise.
"Dad's all right. You'll be great. Have you lived in the area long?"
Shay looked down as if this was a hard question.
"Sorry, none of my business."
She lifted her face. There was a line of tiny star tattoos that ran up along her neck and ended behind her ear. A kissing trail, I thought and then shook the idea from my head. Her brown eyes held all kinds of secrets, all kinds of emotion. The question had triggered something, and some of that amused gloss had faded. "No, it's fine. We're—uh, my husband and I—moved into town a few months ago." That seemed to be all she wanted to say about the subject, and I was fine with that.
The door swung open, and the thin floor of the trailer creaked as Dad stepped inside. "Hey, Fin, going to need you on the first unit. Electrician is finished with the rough electric in there, so we can start putting in insulation. I see you've met Ms. Kennedy."
"Please, call me Shay. Everyone can call me Shay. Ms. Kennedy is far too formal, and I want to fit in as fast as possible. It'll make me more comfortable and then I won't drop a dozen pencils on the floor and spill my coffee." She pointed to a wad of coffee-stained paper towels on her desk. "And Fin is my hero. He rescued me from a terrible end this morning. I stupidly tossed a scone crumb to a pushy pigeon out on the pier."
Dad nodded. "I can see where this is going. I once had a gull take a French fry right out of my hand." He looked at me with an accusatory glare. "Well, hero, get to work. Your crew is waiting for you." He turned to Shay. "I emailed over those lists. If you could generate some purchase orders, that would be great."
"I'll get right on it. And once again, thank you so much for this job opportunity. I won't let you down."
"We're glad to have you, Shay."
Dad followed me out. I was expecting it. "Fin." This time the accusation was in his tone.
