Page 19 of No Going Back
But Dianna was different from the women who usually found their way into his bed. Those differences stacked up more every time he saw her, each one making him want her even more. Almost more than anything. Enough that he easily slipped right back into his old self-serving ways.
The realization was like a kick to the chest.
Griffin took a step back, carefully letting Dianna’s feet fall to the floor as regret and guilt swept over him like smoke, heavy and smothering. “That was—”
Dianna straightened, her eyes going everywhere but him as she yanked up her leggings and panties. “A mistake.”
His head tipped back a little in surprise. That was not what he was expecting to hear.
Dianna’s hands went to her hair, smoothing it down in jerky, aggressive strokes as she turned to face the mess of her kitchen. “I need to start cleaning.”
Was she dismissing him? It sure as hell seemed like it.
It was a blow. One that shouldn’t hit as hard as it did considering she was right.
This was a mistake.
One he’d been determined not to make.
But the fact she agreed cut into that insecure little part of him that refused to be eradicated. Not by money. Not by success. Not by power or connections.
And unfortunately, Dianna’s rejection seemed to feed it, making it grow and press against his chest. “I should—”
“You should go.” Dianna shot him a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you for showing me where to shut the water off.” Her words were curt and polite, not a hint of the fact they now knew each other intimately showing in her voice.
Griffin raked one hand through his hair, the hair she just held in her hand while his mouth was between her thighs, unsure what to do next.
This wasn’t how things normally went for him. Normally by now the woman would have her bags halfway packed with plans to move in. And deep down he loved it. Loved being wanted so much someone would turn their life upside down to be with him.
But clearly that wasn’t the kind of woman Dianna was, proving yet again she wasn’t like the ones in his past.
Unfortunately, he was still clearly exactly who he thought he was.
SEVEN
DIANNA
SNICKERDOODLE SAT BESIDE her, nose twitching as he chewed through the fifth peanut in a row. She’d worked so hard to make friends with the chubby squirrel and expected this moment to carry a little more impact than it did. It was one more thing to add to the list of disappointments stacking up around her.
Dianna closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath of the warm midday air, hoping to force herself to enjoy her only day off. She used to look forward to Sundays. They were the single day each week she could spend a little time relaxing, even if it had to happen while she caught up on laundry and housekeeping.
But over the past few months, Sundays stopped feeling like a day of solace and rejuvenation and started feeling a little more… lonely. They showcased the fact she didn’t even have enough of a social life to fill up one freaking day.
Sure, there were plenty of people around Moss Creek who came to see her at the bakery nearly every day. She even went to lunch with Mae and her sisters-in-law on occasion. But all that felt more like politeness. It just seemed to be the way things were done in a small town.
She opened her eyes to peek down at Snickerdoodle, who was finishing up the nut she’d just passed over. “You want another one?” Dianna held out another peanut, pinching one end of the shell to provide as much distance between her and the squirrel as possible. Instead of immediately grabbing it the way he had the ones before, Snickerdoodle shuffled backward before darting off, racing over the freshly cut grass of her backyard before scaling the large oak tree in the corner to perch on one thick branch.
Dianna sighed. “And I bet I never see him again either.” She tossed the nut into the yard for one of the birds or other squirrels to claim and stood up, dusting off the butt of her shorts before turning to go in the back door.
She’d spent the morning scrubbing the tiny kitchen at the back of her cottage within an inch of its life, taking out all her pent-up frustration on the nineteen-sixties linoleum and metal edged countertops. They were the only reason she’d managed to snag this particular house out from under Nora and Brooks Pace, house flippers extraordinaire. While the finishings of her two-bedroom home were more than old, they were still in pristine condition thanks to the loving care of the ninety-five-year-old woman who sold it to her, and Brooks and Nora simply didn’t have the heart to take it on as a flip.
That meant Dianna was able to claim it as her own and carry on the loving care it had been shown over the years.
Very little of the house had been modernized. The full bathroom down the hall was still done in seafoam green tile, and cedar lined all the closets. The only real upgrade was to the electric, and that was so a central air system could be installed—which she was ridiculously grateful for. Especially on days like this when it would be scorching before noon.
Dianna cracked open the fridge, bending at the waist to peer through the lackluster contents. For someone who made their living feeding other people, she sure had a hell of a time feeding herself. Probably because by the time she got home every night she was exhausted enough that a bowl of cereal and extra sleep was more appealing than spending time making something more involved.
But she had the time today, so maybe she should consider pre-preparing some items for the week. Not only would it give her more nourishing options in the evenings, but the activity would keep her mind off bothersome topics.
