Page 65 of Tangled Kisses
“You didn’t let me finish.” There’s a roughness to his voice, one that matches the storm brewing in his eyes. “I don’t want to spend time with those guys. I want to spend time withyou.”
My stomach does a little somersault, but I fight to maintain my neutral façade. I jut my chin toward the brim shading his eyes. “New hat?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs, gaze holding mine. “A gift. A thank-you for this weekend.”
And now my stomach wants to empty its contents right here on the bar.
No, no, no. We arenothaving this conversation. Not now. Not ever.
“Right. Lucky you.” The words slip out, sounding as hollow as I feel.
A fancy gift from a fancy woman for a fancy weekend.
I do not want to know what sexual acrobatics he performed to earn it, either.
Griffin takes a long pull off his beer. “The cookies you made were amazing. Your sister was right, you’re an incredible cook.”
I shrug, eyes on my whiskey glass. “They’re nothing. Who wants cookies and a silly note when you can get a $500 hat, right?”
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. “You mean this note?”
I blink. “You have it with you?”
My breath catches. That stupid little scrap of paper shouldn’t matter. Shouldn’t make my chest ache or my eyes sting. But there it is, soft and creased from being opened more than once. Like he’s actually kept it close.
“Always.” His voice softens, the storm receding just a fraction. “Have to keep a piece of you with me. Not quite the same as the real thing.”
He bites his lip, then reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. “I missed you.”
Oh, he needs to stop touching me.
To him, it’s probably nothing. To my affection-starved body, it’s everything.
I shrug away from his touch, taking a half step back into my space. “Did you have fun?”
“Not at all. But Lauren’s a friend, and she needed a friend this weekend.”
I nod, aiming for casual. Friends listen. They don’t flinch when someone mentionshelpinga wealthy client, right?
But the thought chokes me almost immediately.
“You know what I just realized this very second?” I wave my hand and turn toward the bar, eyes locking on the polished wood like it can anchor me. “I’m not comfortable hearing about the kind of…servicesyou provide in your job.”
Griffin is on his feet in the next instant, leaning close and shrinking the space I just carved out. Seems every inch I move, he takes.
And I need space if I’m to think clearly around this man.
“It’s not like that. At all. I didn’t?—”
But Griffin doesn’t have time to finish his statement.
“Well, look who’s finally back in town.” A well-dressed woman sidles up to Griffin, interrupting our conversation. She reeks of money—from her expensive perfume to the gold jewelry dripping off her wrists.
She splays a manicured hand over Griffin’s chest, and for a split second I contemplate how long it would take me to break every finger.
“Where have you been, handsome?” she asks, tapping one long talon against his shirt. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Out of town.” His voice is easy enough, but there’s a tension lining his jaw as he crosses his arms over his chest.
