Page 48 of No Going Back
Her rational mind recognized the fact shouldn’t bother her. Griffin was grown. He’d lived a full life before moving to Moss Creek. Of course there were women in his past. But the thought of another woman making him breakfast still made her want to smack someone with a spatula.
He tipped his head to one side. “I’ve lived with a few women over the years. They usually cooked since I worked such long hours.” He continued to stare at the bacon, brows pinching together. “I always figured if they were nice enough to cook for me, I should be nice enough to eat it without complaining.”
His point of view would’ve been a revelation to her not long ago. After spending a lifetime around people who loved to pick her and everything she did apart, meeting someone who kept his mouth shut in appreciation would have been impossible for her to comprehend. Or, honestly, believe.
But Griffin did seem to be pretty skilled at keeping his mouth shut. Sometimes to a fault.
“That was probably the right decision.” Dianna moved to the nonstick pan Griffin hadn’t yet used. She turned the heat on, setting it and letting it warm up as she pulled out her toaster.
“Maybe.” Griffin finally pulled his eyes away from the bacon, focusing on hers as he moved in close. “Can I help?” He rested one hand on her lower back. “I don’t expect you to cook for me, Di.”
“I know that.” And she actually did. But like so many other things, it was difficult to break away from the behaviors she’d carried for so long.
Like sneaking out of the bedroom so the man in her bed could sleep.
Like jumping to cook for him.
She slid the carton of eggs his way, determined not to keep making the same mistakes she always did. “How are you at cracking eggs?”
Griffin frowned at the carton. “I’m going to give you one guess.”
Dianna laughed, her mood lightening almost immediately. “Then you’re on toast duty for now.” She snagged the loaf of multigrain bread she’d baked up at work one day during the afternoon lull, sliding it in front of Griffin before going to the fridge. “How do you feel about avocado?”
Griffin gave her a wicked smile. “I feel like I’ve made it clear I will eat anything that’s put in front of me.” His hand slid down the curve of her ass. “You’re more than welcome to make me prove it though.”
Dianna snagged the half left over from yesterday’s lunch and passed it off, ignoring his blatant innuendo. “Smash that up with a fork.”
Griffin’s eyes twinkled as he took the avocado, clearly undaunted. “Yes, ma’am.”
They spent the next ten minutes cooking, assembling, and laughing.
Griffin really wasn’t exaggerating when he said he couldn’t cook. She had to coach him through removing the pit from the avocado and cupping it in his hand while he mashed the tender flesh, using the tough skin as a bowl of sorts.
But Griffin was a good sport about it. He was completely unbothered by the fact that she knew how to do something he didn’t. Yet another way he was completely different from any man she’d spent time with before.
By the time they settled onto the swing hanging on her back porch, she was relaxed and looking forward to the day.
Because the voices in her head were finally shutting the fuck up.
Griffin kept one foot on the ground, using it to ease the swing back and forth as they ate, listening to the birds as the sun started to lighten the sky.
“How late do you work tonight?” He passed over her coffee, waiting for her to take a sip before sliding it back onto the table beside him.
“My best guess is eight.” She swallowed down the mouthful of bacony goodness. “The girl I hired has really made a huge difference.” She peeked at him from the corner of her eye. “Thank you for pushing me to hire someone.”
“I just know what it’s like to work yourself to death because you think that’s how it has to be.” Griffin relaxed back, stretching one arm along the top rail of the swing, his fingers curving to tease against the skin of her neck. “Plus, I was tired of waiting until after midnight to hose myself off in the backyard.”
Dianna tipped her head back, resting against his forearm as she laughed. “I can’t believe you kept doing that when there was a perfectly functional, heated shower right next door.”
“A heated shower that was dangerously close to a woman I have proven I can’t resist.” Griffin was quiet for a minute, staring across the porch as he continued to swing them.
“I won’t get in the way of you being a dad, Griffin.” She understood what it was like to feel your focus couldn’t be split. “Troy’s the most important thing in your life. That’s part of why I like you.” She wanted to ease his fears. Help Griffin understand she knew what it was like to be afraid of putting too much effort into the wrong place.
Griffin turned to her, and for a second she thought he might open up a little. Give her a peek under that layer he held so close.
Instead, his eyes dipped down to her plate. “You better finish eating. If you’re late and those Cowboys don’t get their cinnamon rolls there will be mayhem in the streets of Moss Creek.”
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