Page 57 of Tangled Kisses
She lowers her voice, eyes flicking around the restaurant. “Well, Sabine said something the other day. Something about his retiring. Didn’t go into detail, but it stuck with me.”
Retiring. The word crashes over me, my heart surging into a gallop.
Calm down, Reese. It’s probably nothing. Just Sabine running her mouth.
But then I remember Griffin out at the cabin, repairing the irrigation pump. Recall his talking about working at the stables. A normal job. A real life.
Hope sparks bright and dangerous, no matter how hard I try to smother it.
Piper shrugs. “Point is, maybe he’s not doing the whole escort thing anymore. I think you should ask him.”
I rub my hand across my forehead. “I don’t know, Piper. I’m not sure how much more my heart can handle.”
“Look, you don’t have to marry the man. All I’m saying is—go and have some fun. Let Griffin treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Realize what you deserve.”
“You don’t think I’ll make a fool of myself?”
Piper sets down her chopsticks, leveling me with a look. “He went to the drugstore and bought you ibuprofen and a heating pad. No, I think you’re pretty safe from making a fool of yourself, sis.”
I turnmy sister’s words over in my mind, weighing them against the way Griffin makes me feel. By the time we roll back to the ranch, I’ve made up my mind.
I’m baking him cookies.
Oatmeal chocolate chip—his favorite.
And then I’m taking them down to his cabin to see what happens.
I’m setting aside all my preconceived notions and just going with it. Piper’s right—there’s no reason I can’t have some fun with Griffin. I’m wickedly attracted to him, I enjoy his company, and damn it, I feel safe around the man. That’s saying something.
I slide into a sundress—similar to the one from the night at the bar, only this time, the buttons are intact. A denim jacket. My new pair of cowgirl boots. I fluff my hair, check the mirror, and yeah. I look good.Damngood. Good enough to earn a few more of those amazing kisses from the man who’s been haunting my dreams.
With my Tupperware of cookies tucked under my arm, I weave down the path toward his cabin, my pulse skipping, then racing, with every step.
I climb the two steps to his porch and knock.
But when he swings the door open, instead of his trademark smile, I get an expression of pure shock.
“Hi. I wasn’t expecting you.”
Oh, shit.
I know this look—the locked jaw, stiff shoulders, classic deer in headlights.
I caught it on Vander’s face the day I showed up early at the country club. Then again, when I surprised him at his office, and learned that surprises can be a terrible idea. Mostly for me.
Case in point: now.
God, please don’t let there be a woman in Griffin’s cabin. I’ll never recover.
“I, um… brought you cookies.” I thrust the container toward him like a peace offering. “Your favorite. Oatmeal chocolate chip.”
“Wow,” he says, taking them. “That’s amazing. Thank you.”
I force a smile, already backing away. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were busy. I’ll go.”
“No, wait.” He catches my arm. “I’m just packing.”
“Packing?”
