Page 8 of Griffen the Mountain Man
CHAPTER SIX
HEIDI
It's a week before I see Griffen again.
He's sitting at a table with three other women, helping one knit a scarf by holding a ball of yarn for her. It's freaking adorable, and I would love to snap a picture, but I don't think that would go over too well.
“You're staring again. Why don't you go over and talk to him?” Greta bumps my shoulder with hers.
“That's enough from you,” I scold. “You did your part, and now it's up to him.”
“It's the twenty-first century. You don't have to wait for the man to come to you. Look at how I got Don. You think I was waiting around for him to approach me?” An amused cackle rocks her slim form. “Hardly. Men need a push.”
“And that man?” She points to Griffen as if he can't see her gesturing to him from across the room. “Needs more of a push than others. Griffen's always been a sweetheart, but he's also shy. He needs a little help, and that's where you come in.”
“That isnotwhere I come in,” I retort.
Even if I were brave enough to approach Griffen, I'm not sure what I'd say. No way my courage extends to asking him out on a date.
As if sensing we're talking about him, Griffen looks up from the knitting and catches my eye. I smile and wave, but he quickly ducks his head with a frown, pretending he didn't see me.
Ouch.
Thankfully, Greta didn't catch the exchange. I'd hate to know what she would do then.
Actually, I hate what my body is starting to donowas tears well in my eyes.
“Um, didn't you say you forgot your glasses back in the sewing room? Let me grab those for you.”
“Oh, you don't…”
I'm gone before Greta can finish her protest. I need a minute alone, and the empty sewing room, which is closed at this time of day, is the perfect escape.
The door closes with a click behind me, and I sigh in relief as tears fall down my cheeks. I can't believe he ignored me like that.
Just pretended that I didn't exist.
It's not like I expect him to declare his undying love for me. A brief acknowledgement, ahello, wouldn't give me the wrong impression, but apparently, even that is too much for him.
A shuddery breath rattles from my lungs. Sniffling, I swipe at the tears, annoyed with myself.
“I shouldn't be crying over a man,” I say out loud, as if that'll make a difference—reprimanding myself for my own feelings.
The sound of the door opening and closing echoes in the room. Spinning around, my watery gaze meets Griffen's.
“What are you doing here?”
Why did he follow me? Isn't it enough that he ignored me? Now he wants to catch me crying over his rejection?
“I came to apologize.” The toe of his boot scuffs at the floor as he runs a hand through his wavy hair.
“For what?”
“For being an ass out there. I don't know what I was think—”
“I can tell you what you were thinking,” I interrupt, pain in my voice. “There's that girl I was forced to have a fake date with. The one I was hoping to never see again.”
Maybe that's dramatic, but I'mfeelingdramatic after the past ten minutes.
