Page 68 of How He Got the Girl
“Sounds like I’m being summoned.” She tilts her head. “It was nice meeting you, Griffin.” Looking at me pointedly, she says, “We’ll talk more aboutthislater.”
“What was that about?” Griffin asks once she walks away.
“Hmm?”
“You know your thoughts are written all over your face, right?” He grabs my waist, tugging me closer.
My eyes move to his lips like they have their own brain that can only think about kissing Griffin Reynolds. I drag them back up to meet his. “No, they’re not,” I argue and take a deep breath, attempting to school my features.
“You think I’m insanely handsome.” Griffin leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek. The note of cinnamon on his breath is intoxicating. “Just admit it, beautiful.”
I use every bit of willpower not to melt at the press of his lips to my skin, even though it stokes the fire burning inside me. Attraction. It’s just attraction. I need to wait until I talk things through with him before I consider kissing him again.
My voice is somehow steady as I say, “And why would I do that?”
“We’ve always been honest with each other. There’s no use lying now.”
“And what makes you think I’m lying?” I stare up at him, trying to look more confident than I feel. If he’s saying we’ve always been honest with each other, there might really be an explanation for everything. He may be a good actor, but this feels different.
“I could call it a hunch.” He takes a step toward me. “But since we’re honest, your dilated pupils and the way your eyes keep darting to my mouth tell me otherwise.” Griffin’s eyes drop to my lips. Although our mouths are inches apart,I can feel the ghost of his touch run across my lips with the heated way he’s looking at me.
“Fine.” I press onto my tiptoes, my mouth by his ear so my words won’t be overheard. “I think you’re handsome, but we still need to talk before I can think about trusting you.”
Griffin’s eyes fill with hope. “I can work with that.”
“Just be patient with me.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering there for longer than necessary, as if he can’t pull himself away. “Patient is my middle name.”
I take a step back and clear my throat uncomfortably as I notice multiple family members around the room staring at us intently. “What’s youractualmiddle name?”
“Whoa, you’re crossing the line.” He holds up his hands. “That’s way too personal a question.”
I roll my eyes. “You know my middle name. It’s only fair.”
“Okay, but you can’t make fun of me.” He eyes me until I agree.
“Yes, I won’t make fun of you.”
“It’s…Bartholomew.” The way he says it makes it sound as if his middle name is something super out there, like Broccoli.
“Griffin Bartholomew Razzle-Dazzle Reynolds,” I repeat.
He shakes his head, smiling. “It’s a family name. Although I don’t plan on continuing the tradition if I ever have a son.”
“Maybe you could continue the Razzle-Dazzle name instead,” I suggest, trying to maintain a neutral expression.
“Mm-hmm.” Griffin grabs the dips of my waist and squeezes.
A giggle slips past my lips. “You don’t play fair,” I gasp.
“Who says I’m playing at all?” His voice is husky as his eyes seek mine. They look soft and inviting, but they’re an invitation I can’t accept. Not yet. And especially not in a crowded room full of my family members.
I glance away, searching for an out. When I make eye contact with my mom, she waves me over. “Mallory, can you help get out the appetizers?”
“Be right there.” I take a step back from Griffin.
His hands fall to his sides, hanging loose and lifeless, like they have no purpose if they’re not touching me. “I can help.”
