Page 7 of Griffen the Mountain Man
I don't want to shock or hurt any woman, least of all Heidi. And I definitely don’t want to be humiliated and reminded that there’s something wrong with me.
Which means today’s picnic is all we'll ever have.
Hearthstone Lodge’s automatic doors swoosh open with a waft of autumn spices in the air. The lobby is decorated with apples, pumpkins, and haybales, thanks to my sister Kennedy, and the huge fireplace off to the side is lit with cheerful flames in front of several occupied leather couches.
My older brother Ezra rounds the concierge desk with a grin. “Hey, Griff, how's it going? I heard about your date today.” He slaps my back in greeting before guiding me to the rear of the lobby where windows provide a gorgeous view of the mountains.
“News travels fast in this family,” I grunt.
“We can’t help ourselves, especially when it comes to our little brother’s happiness. How was it? Beckett said the girl really likes you.”
“Beckett needs to mind his own business.” My booted footsteps pick up speed as I stomp through French doors leading to the back terraces.
“Oh, so you really like her, too.”
“Who does Griff like?” Kennedy joins our group, and I roll my eyes heavenward.
How many more of my siblings are hiding out in the lodge today?
I should have gone to the stables. Soren wouldn’t hound me about this kind of stuff.
Maybe.
Probably.
“Heidi, his picnic date,” Ezra explains as he wraps an arm around Kennedy’s shoulders and squeezes her into his side for a quick hug.
“Oh, the woman Gramps and Greta set you up with? I heard she's really sweet.”
“She is.” No use lying. Heidi is sweet and pretty and not meant for me.
“When are you going to see her again?”
“Guess whenever I go to the senior center.” My shoulders rise and fall in feigned nonchalance. Like it doesn’t matter to me if our paths cross again or not. Like I’m not already hooked on her cozy vanilla scent or the temptation of those generous curves she tried to hide under a large sweater.
“I was talking about a date.” Kennedy pokes my ribs. “Did you get her number?”
“Nope.”
“Why not? It didn't go well?”
“It went fine. Can we stop with the twenty questions?” There’s a slight growl to my voice, and I swallow the primal sound before it grows louder in frustration.
“Geez, Griff, what's gotten into you? I know what Gramps did was a surprise, but it wasn't mean-spirited. No need to be angry about it.”
“I'm not angry.”
“Right.”
Now both my siblings sport matching scowls.
“I want to be alone, okay?” I burst out of the dense foliage of a trail that leads toward the stables. Ezra and Kennedy stop, silently giving me what I want, but I know this conversation isn't over.
Hopefully, Soren isn't available to continue the interrogation.
All I want is to toss hay, muck stalls, and get one curvy girl out of my head.
Is that too much to ask?
