Page 54 of Tangled Kisses
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Not a damn bit. Why would it?” His voice is firm, without hesitation.
“How did you know how old I was?”
He drags his tongue over his lower lip, and suddenly it’s impossible to think. “I asked Piper about a million questions. She’s tired of my hounding her.”
So that explains my sister’s sudden campaign forTeam Griffin.
God, I hate how giddy that knowledge makes me feel. “What did you want to know about me?”
“Everything.” His eyes lock on mine, steady and intent.
My breath catches. “Why?”
“Because you’re stamped in my memory. Like that scent you catch once and can’t forget—the one that makes you stop and realize the world can still be extraordinary.”
Nothing like a man quoting poetry. “That’s beautiful. Who said that?”
“I did. About you.”
And with that, my heart seizes in my chest—exactly the kind of line women read in books and swear doesn’t happen in real life.
He pats the pillow beside him, lips twitching. “Come on. Let’s watch people shoot holes into each other.”
I sink down beside him, but a thought nags. Griffin says and doesallthe right things. It’s like he walked straight out of the pages of a romance novel.
But isn’t that what he’s supposed to do? Pretend? Perform?
Or maybe… maybe he’s just a really good man.
Yeah, I like that option way better.
I snuggle against his chest, chocolate melting on my tongue, and flick the channel to a romantic comedy. “How about this movie instead?”
His arm tightens around me, his lips brushing my hair in the softest kiss. “Perfect.”
And lying there with the steady thrum of his heart in my ear, I realize something terrifying—he’s right. With him by my side, the world does indeed feel extraordinary.
“Darlin’.”Griffin’s voice is soft in my ear. “I have to go.”
I moan and stretch, blinking my eyes open. The sheets twist around my legs as I push upright, my spine protesting the sudden movement. “What time is it?”
“Just after six.”
I rake a hand through my hair, still foggy. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”
He presses a warm kiss to my forehead. “That was the idea.”
I glance around, surprised to find myself in bed. My brow furrows as I point at the rumpled sheets. “Wait, how did I get here? I passed out on the couch.”
Griffin’s mouth quirks as he bends over to tug on his boots. “I carried you. The bed’s more comfortable.”
“You’re comfortable,” I murmur.
Griffin tugs his t-shirt over his head and fixes me with a look. “So are you. Can’t tell you the last time I slept that well.”
“Hey, if you ever feel needy and squishy like me, you know where to go.” I shrug, rolling my neck to work out the kinks taking up residence there.
