Page 29 of No Going Back
It wasn’t him.
Griffin sucked in a breath, bracing himself as he turned to the fence line separating his property from Dianna’s. He raised one hand. “Evening.”
Dianna’s full lips pressed tight together, but the pressure wasn’t enough to stifle the sound of her laughter.
“Yeah, yeah.” Griffin reached down to snag the curtain, yanking it loose from what remained of his shower before wrapping the hem around his waist. “Laugh it up.”
Dianna pressed one hand to her lips, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. It was just unexpected.”
“It was unexpected for me too.” He stepped away from the mess, the plastic rings still clipped to the top of the curtain dragging across the concrete. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Dianna’s smile faltered. “You didn’t wake me up.” Her expression looked sad, but maybe that was just the shadows of the light filtering out of her kitchen window. “Why are you showering in your backyard?”
Griffin tried to keep his focus on her face, but his eyes kept wandering down to the silky floral robe he was a little too familiar with. “The water inside the house is shut off while I redo the plumbing.”
“I have a shower, Griffin. You’re more than welcome to use it.” Dianna almost sounded defeated.
It was an emotion he was spending hours every day working his ass off to avoid.
He wanted his relationship with Troy to be enough. It should be. And it said a lot about him as a person that it wasn’t. That he couldn’t stop thinking about Dianna.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Maybe not, but we can’t keep going on the way we have been.” She motioned to his makeshift sarong. “Why don’t you go put some clothes on and come over.” Her eyes met his. “So we can talk.”
Talking probably wasn’t a great idea either, but damned if the thought of getting to spend a little time with Dianna didn’t make him weak enough to agree. Weak enough that he all but ran back into the house, dropping the shower curtain on his way to the back bedroom. He yanked on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, slipping on a pair of shoes before picking his way through the never-ending mess and out the front door. When he got next door, Dianna’s porch light was on and her front door was open, much like it was the last time he came here.
Griffin lightly rapped his knuckles against the wood of the screen door, shifting on his feet as the familiar scent of her home carried through the screen.
Dianna peeked at him from the kitchen doorway, lifting a brow at him. “You can come in.”
“I didn’t feel right just barging in.” He stepped inside, this time slipping off his shoes before going any farther. “I didn’t want to make assumptions. There’s no squirrel threatening your life this time.”
“That’s not for lack of trying.” Dianna carried in two mugs, heading straight for the sofa. “Ever since that day, Snickerdoodle waits outside the back door, looking for an opportunity to sneak back in.” She sat down, tucking her feet under her body before lifting a cup his way, making it clear she wanted him to sit beside her.
“Thank you.” Griffin took the coffee and eased down onto her couch. It was impossible not to relax back into the cushions. He’d been sitting on metal folding chairs and boxes of tile and flooring for weeks now. Being in a finished, comfortable home felt like fucking heaven.
“I don’t want things to be awkward between us.” Dianna set her cup on the coffee table without taking a drink. “I didn’t mean to make you feel strange around me.”
“I don’t feel strange around you, Di.” He wasn’t usually one to talk about things like this, but there was no way he would let Dianna think she was the problem. “I’ve just been busy.”
Her brows slowly lifted. “Oh.” Her lips pressed into a frown. “Because it seems a lot like you’ve been avoiding me.”
Griffin set his coffee next to hers, scrubbing one hand down his face. “There’s just been a lot going on and I—”
“Accidentally haven’t set foot outside your house when you thought you might run into me?” She kept pinning him down, trying to make him admit to something he didn’t want to admit to.
Talking wasn’t one of his strong suits and after putting his foot in his mouth more times than he could count, he’d realized it was just easier to keep it shut and let the chips fall where they may.
And usually where they may involved his shit being tossed out a window.
Or his car being keyed.
“Like I said, I’ve been busy.” He stuck with the story least likely to dig this conversation any deeper.
Dianna studied him, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not looking for a relationship, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
For some reason her comment chafed. He had no right to be bothered by it, but it still stung a little.
