Page 84 of Tangled Kisses
Griffin shakes his head and jams the hat back on. “That is why I didn’t want to show you. That look right there.”
“Hey, give me a second. I wasn’t prepared to plot a psychopath’s demise today.”
“I know it’s just hair. That’s not the point.”
“It’s not. She had no right to touch you without permission. It doesn’t matter what role she thought you were playing.”
His eyes widen at my innuendo. “Reese, I was installing a window. That’s the sick part.”
He tips the bottle back, draining half of it in a few long swallows. Water slides down his throat, and my stomach knots.
God, it shouldn’t be possible to want someone more when I’m also furious on their behalf. The curls used to give him this almost boyish charm, but with the buzz cut and the beard he’s let grow in over the last week? He looks dangerous. Older. Hotter. And it only fuels the protective fire raging in my chest.
“It’s okay if you weren’t. If you’re still working as an escort… I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”
“When I told you I left that world, I meant it. I would never lie to you.”
I huff out a breath and plant my hands on my hips, my boot tapping the porch in a rapid beat. “Well, that makes it worse. Means I have to figure out a far more painful way for her to die.”
“All because of my hair? It’s that bad?”
“No, because she crossed the line. She hurt you.Youare fucking gorgeous. You’ve got this bad boy thing going now—especially with the beard. Just saying.”
That does it. The grimace on his face cracks, and he chuckles. “Keep going. I need this ego boost right now.”
I take a slow step toward him, reaching for the hat and slipping it off again. This time he lets me.
“Sorry, cowboy, I’ll have to give you the abbreviated list or we’ll be here all day,” I murmur, sliding between his knees andbrushing my palms gently over the bristle of his scalp. His lashes lower as he releases a tremulous sigh and rests his head against my stomach. “Here’s what I know. You’re the sweetest, kindest man I’ve ever met. You fixed Chowder’s cat tree so his fluffy butt could perch in comfort. You didn’t make a single comment about me needing to hit the gym when I tried on lingerie. Instead, you made me feel pretty. You also happen to be the greatest kisser on the planet, but that’s secondary.”
He looks up, his eyes bright in the morning light. “Pretty?” His voice drops, the syllables covered with a rough edge. “Baby, you’re perfect. Soft in all the right places.”
“Let’s see,” I continue, ignoring his compliment. “There are so many wonderful things about you?—”
But the words stall in my throat as Griffin lifts the hem of my shirt, baring skin, and presses a slow and reverent kiss to my stomach. Seems he isn’t interested in hearing anything more.
“So damn perfect,” he murmurs, as his hands clamp tight around my waist.
His lips drag across me, open-mouthed and wet. A stroke of his tongue, a gentle bite, and I bite back a whimper as my knees threaten to buckle. He lingers, his fingers hooking in the waistband of my jeans and tugging them lower, his mouth following with fervent kisses against the dip of my navel.
My fingers press into his shoulders, just enough to feel his muscles flex beneath the skin.
God. If he goes one inch further?—
But he doesn’t. Instead, he seals his mouth against my skin and whispers something low and guttural. Words I don’t understand, but his voice is raw in a way I’ve never heard before and it rattles a barrage of emotions loose in me—fear, longing, confusion, all tangled together.
And I don’t know what to do with it.
My pulse hammers in my ears as a rush of heat floods through me, my body begging for what he’s refusing to give me.
God, I want him. But he’s hurting, and this moment isn’t about me—it’s about giving him something steady to cling to.
“You’re the most perfect woman,” he breathes. “How did I get so damn lucky?”
My throat tightens at his sweet sentiment. I press a shaky hand to his head, gently stroking his scalp. “I’m the lucky one, Griffin. You came into my life when I felt completely alone. And as long as I’m here, you’ll never be without someone. Never.”
His arms cinch tighter around my waist, a rough sound scraping from his chest. For a heartbeat, it feels like he’s holding on for more than comfort.
His arms cinch tighter around my waist, a rough sound scraping from his chest. “Careful, belleza,” he rasps, voice low and uneven. “You say things like that, and I’m not sure I can hold back.”
