Page 142 of Dream Chaser
As we pass by the table where Micah and the girls are sitting, I notice his eyes narrow and lips twitch at Mags.
Griffon notices it, too. His posture shifts—just a little but enough. Protective. Present.
“Seriously,” he murmurs under his breath. “I could just … accidentally bump into him and spill queso on his lap. Mild assault. Spicy flavor.”
I give him a look. “You’re not going to throw cheese at a teenager.”
“Notthrow,” he corrects. “Spill. Like gravity did it. You can’t jail gravity.”
I laugh. “Sit down and eat your sliders.”
“I’d rather eat you,” he whispers.
Mags cackles, clearly overhearing him.
I elbow him. “Skinner.”
“Ross?” He winks.
One of my biggest pet peeves in the world is boredom. How lucky am I that, with Griffon Skinner, I am guaranteed never to get bored.
I hate to say it, so I won’t, but this is a damn good game. However, we all agreed we would walk out at halftime.
After saying goodnight to the girls, I see my parents walking toward my Jeep. “Guess I’m taking my parents’ home.”
“Nope, they’re taking your Jeep to their place, and you and I are taking my vehicle.” He pulls me toward his SUV. “Night’s not over, Izzy Ross. Let’s jet.”
I look up at him suspiciously. “Where are you taking me?”
He bends down and kisses the top of my head. “It’s a surprise.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re taking the exit for Hancock airport.
“What is going on?”
“You and I are taking five days off to go fishing.”
“What?” I shake my head. “Wile, the greenhouse, I have?—”
“Your parents have all that covered. Your laptop’s all packed; you can still work,” he assures me.
“My shifts at the brewery. I have to?—”
“They have it covered, and when Riley and Hudson have baby Hart, I volunteered you and I to help cover them.”
Okay, I can’t even be mad about that.
“I don’t like surprises,” I state firmly. Well, as firmly as I can when I realize … “Are you taking me to meet Grand?”
He smiles. “She wants to meet you.”
“Fishing.” I smile back.
“Fishing,” I confirm.
Epilogue
Griffon
