Page 44 of Barefoot Dreams

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“That depends.” I smirk. “What did your mind come up with?”

“Something between three years and life in prison. Can you imagine Fanny in prison?” He gets that pensive lookas if he’s seriously considering that scenario and I’m barely holding it together over here. “The whole place would dance the ‘Macarena’ by the end of day one while wearing those horrendous, neon tracksuits. I can totally see it.” He shudders.

Anddddd I lose it. “Sweet daisies, stop making me laugh or I’ll never finish your coffee.”

Griffin flashes me his charming, sheepish smile. “But I like making you laugh,” he says, totally oblivious to the flutters he sets off inside my body as those words slip past my defenses into the realm of dreams I kept under lock and key.

To be fair, it’s a flimsy lock these days what with him testing it each and every time.

I’ve only ever seen him like this with the girls he dated. Never with me. Griffin never talked to me like this.

Yet I bite down on the inside of my cheek and shake my head. More to clear my own train of thought rather than at his comment.

Owen. I’m seeing Owen.

Not that I’ve actually gone on a date with him in over a week, but that’s not the point right now. What is though is that I shouldn’t allow those flutters in.

“Fanny might be a little nuts, but not that far gone. Yet. She would find any way to feel up his arms for the most part and I believe once there was a slap on his butt. The guys from the station were making fun of him for flashing his abs at the grandma.”

“Oh God. Do not mention my progress to Fanny!”

“Too late, charming” comes from behind Griffin, and while I’m hit with another bout of laughter, Griff pales.

“She’s behind me, isn’t she?”

I nod, pressing my hand to my mouth as he silently curses.

“We can get acquainted with those cheeks out of the way right here and now,” Fanny says, and when I peer over Griffin’s shoulder, she shoots me a wink as she ogles his behind.

Can’t blame you, Fanny. It is a wonderful ass. I sigh wistfully—on the inside, of course.

“On that note…” Griffin snatches the cup out of my hands and races out the door, leaving his croissant and his card behind.

Fanny tsks. “So fragile these days. Can’t even take a joke.”

“Oh, Fanny.” I shake my head at her. “Please never change.”

“Have no intention of doing that.” She winks again. “Get me one of your tonics, sunshine. I’m feeling rather damp this morning.”

“Coming right up.”

The morning rush hits us right after Fanny leaves, but my eyes keep darting out to the croissant and the card Griffin left in his haste to run away from the tiny grandma.

“Lia, you mind if I slip away for a few? A customer from earlier forgot the rest of his order and his card here.”

“Nope, I can handle it down here.”

Without waiting for another beat, I grab the things and head out the door into the chilly morning, drawing my floor-length, knit cardigan closed over the green crop top and skirt combo I put on this morning.

Griffin doesn’t do full twenty-four-hour shifts yet while he’s still training. Instead, he’s there every day from morning to evening.

This is just a friendly gesture, nothing more, I tell myself—or rather, to contradict the butterflies in my stomach.

Somehow, in the span of three weeks, Griffin Owling made me fall right back into my dreams without doing much at all. But it’s not like he ever tried all that hard to make me fall in love with him back when we were kids.

He never needed to do anything. It was just him, just Griffin who called out to my heart. Same as he does now.

Why does he keep coming in?