Page 109 of Tangled Kisses
It isn’t just her words—it’s the weight behind them. Capri’s saying everything without saying it outright.
She studies me for a long beat, then mutters under her breath, almost too low for me to hear, “Despite what you all think, I’m not immune to love either.”
Within the hour,my truck and I are ready to roll. She’s old, but she runs true if you take care of her. I pop the hood, check the oil, coolant, transmission fluid, all of it. Top off the windshield washer just in case. By habit, I pull open the storage box behind the seat, making sure my supply kit is intact—jumper cables, flashlight, flares, blanket, first aid, a few protein bars, a small camp stove.
All the things Reese would never think to bring.
That’s the thing—Hollow Creek is a beautiful little town. I’ve taken Pearl up there more times than I can count when I’d visit her. We’d wander Main Street, duck into quilt shops and little boutiques, grab pie from that diner on the corner. At night, there’s local music spilling out of the bars, couples dancing under string lights—the kind of place I always thought Reese would fall in love with, if I ever got the chance to take her.
But the roads leading up there? Dark. Winding. Miles of nothing but high desert and trees. Service drops in and out. A wrong turn, a flat tire, hell, just running out of gas—you’re on your own until someone happens to pass. I’d bet my truck she didn’t pack a bug-out box, probably doesn’t even know what one is.
So yeah, she might be pissed to see me. But if she broke down on the shoulder in a dead zone, I’d be the only one coming by. And she’d damn well be grateful.
Still, a cold spike of panic slides through me. Lauren’s offer is barely hours old, and I already walked away—walked away from the steady paycheck, from the security it gave Pearl and me, from a future handed to me on a silver platter. And for what? A woman who told me to give her space. Who lied about where she was going. Who might not want me anymore.
Christ, what the hell am I doing?
The drive gives me too much time to think—and for my brain to spiral down dark corridors. Is Vander calling her again, whispering poison in her ear? Is her mother giving her hell for walking away from that shiny society wedding? Or worse—does Reese regret slumming with me? What the hell would her parents think if they saw her with a man who smells like horses and grease instead of champagne and polished silver?
But then I remember last night. The way her body trembled under mine. The way she looked at me like I was the only man in the world. That can’t be wrong. Itcan’t.
I know one thing: I need to get to her. Figure out what’s happening in that gorgeous brain of hers and remind her that when it comes to loving her, I’m the man for the job.
Theonlyman.
I head northwest, my headlights carving through the deepening dusk. The high desert fades into foothills, sagebrush giving way to pine. The air cools as the elevation rises, the sky bleeding orange into indigo. For a moment, it’s almost peaceful—the kind of view that used to calm me when nothing else could.
By the time I roll into Hollow Creek, it’s pitch dark. The main drag is lit up like a postcard, twinkle lights strung across the street, shops shuttered for the night except for a handful ofplaces still alive with neon glow. I nose into a space along the curb and kill the engine.
I know this town, and there are four bars along the Main Street. If Reese is here, she’s in one of them.
The first two are a bust—one too quiet, the other nothing but couples cozied up in booths. I step back onto the street, jaw tight, scanning the glow of the third. An upscale brewery I’ve been to before with Pearl—good pub food, a jukebox stocked with classics, the kind of spot locals pack into on a Friday night.
And there she is—perched at the bar in a seat that swallows her whole, toes barely grazing the stool’s bottom rung. Tiny. Breakable. Mine.
Relief hits me so hard it nearly knocks me off my feet. She’s safe.
And she’s going to be pissed when she sees me.
Oh fucking well, darlin’. Deal with it.
The bartender props himself against the counter, eyes raking over Reese with a grin that makes my fists itch. “Haven’t seen you around before. What’s a pretty thing like you doing in Hollow Creek?”
“I’m celebrating. Can’t you tell?” She raises her glass, her voice too bright to be genuine.
The barkeep’s brows shoot up. “Oh yeah? I love a good party. What’s the occasion?”
“My bachelorette party.”
The barkeep smacks the bar with his towel and sighs. “Damn. Should’ve figured a gorgeous woman like you would be taken. So where’s your future husband this weekend?”
I don’t even think about it. I stride forward, my palm smacking the bar hard enough to rattle glasses. “I’m right here.”
Reese’s head snaps around, eyes going wide. For a heartbeat, all I see is shock—soft and unguarded—but then she stiffens, herwalls slamming back into place. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Griffin
