Page 8 of Peril in Piney Woods

Griff eased down next to her and reached over to do the same. He and Raymond had a very close relationship. This did not help Meg’s ability to keep the man at a safe distance. The scent of his aftershave—even at this hour—made her want to lean closer and take a long, deep breath.

He smiled at Raymond, then shifted his attention to the beagle. “Hey there.”

“She’s about eight or nine,” Meg said. “Her name is Pepper. She has some health issues. Lonnie’s going to run tests. Try to get to the bottom of the situation.”

“Where’d you find her?”

His gaze locked on hers, and for a moment, Meg couldn’t speak. She chalked it up to the insane night she’d had. Truth was, he did that to her sometimes. His hair was that blond color that wasn’t really all that fair but was still way too light to call brown. More of a mix of caramel and gold. His eyes were the kind of gold you rarely saw. So pale, so distinct. But the trouble didn’t lay in those gorgeous eyes or in the six feet of perfectly formed masculinity. No. The trouble was his incredible kind and giving nature, especially toward animals. Meg had never met anyone quite like him.

The fact that she was seriously attracted to him was not such a big surprise, all things considered, but she respected him and just plain old liked him in ways she had never expected to like anyone. The latter was terrifying on some level. She’d never been attracted to anyone in the way she was to this man. It was as much intellectual as it was physical.

Griff was making her soft, making her want things she could never have.

Somehow she had to remedy that situation. Problem was, she hadn’t figured out a way to do that—not in the twelve months she had been here.

Don’t think about it right now.

She pulled her mind back to the moment and the question he’d asked. “The owner couldn’t take care of her anymore and left her at my door with a note.”

Griff smiled. “Then it’s someone who knows you and realizes what a good person you are.”

She looked away from that incredible smile and focused on Pepper. “Except I don’t have the space for allowing the reputation for taking on extra pets to become a common belief. I wish I did.” This was the truth, at least most of it. She would take them all if she could. The problem was if she had to disappear—and that was always a possibility—what would become of them?

She couldn’t live with the probable answer to that question.

“I’ve got the space. When she’s on her feet—” he turned to Meg, the pull of his eyes forcing her to look at him “—I’ll take her.”

She managed a smile, mostly because the effort prevented her from analyzing the details of his face more deeply. The lips...the jawline. Stop. “You already have a lot of animals, Griff.”

He chuckled. “Doesn’t matter. I have a big farm with a barn big enough for my herd of dogs and cows and horses—as well as plenty more.”

“Not to mention no shortage of cats and chickens.”

His smile turned to a grin. “Those too.”

He hadn’t purchased or been gifted a single animal that lived on his farm. All had been abandoned. Every cow, every horse. Even the chickens. Folks would call him when someone had moved away and just left one or more animals. Griff would go pick them up and bring them home. If they were sick or injured, he would nurse them back to health, and there they would stay. It was the perfect life for the animals and for him. Meg could never tell anyone, but it was her dream life.

Not ever going to happen, she reminded herself.

“Why don’t you tell me about what happened over there?”

This was the question she’d dreaded. She pushed to her feet. “I need a beer.”

He stood. “That bad, huh?”

He already knew the answer. Ernie might not be able to give him ever little detail because of the ongoing investigation, but he would have passed along all he could.

“Yeah. That bad.”

The worst part about Griff knowing was the idea that it would likely change his opinion of her—and not for the good.

Griff was the first person in her adult life—besides her parents—whose opinion mattered so very much to her.

This was bad, and nothing in her vast survival repertoire gave her any suggestion on how to stop the momentum.

Chapter Three

Griffin Residence

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