I swallow. “What are you trying to say?”
“A warning, I guess. You go back to your old ways and this is done. She’ll never forgive you.”
With that, he walks out the barn door, out to the vehicle and cranks it up. A moment later, he’s driving down the road.
I squat down next to Buddy and pet his head. How easily it could have been different. If that need for blood, the need to fight, had woven in his veins, he wouldn’t be here now. A different choice would have been made.
It makes me think about my own family—James. Have I done enough? Am I strong enough?
What kind of legacy runs through my veins?
24
Mave
God grants us with a beautiful day for the open house. The sun is up early, the sky streaked with pink from the sunrise, and the weather says it should be a bit warmer than normal.
It makes getting up easier than usual, although the open house isn’t the only reason I’m eager to start the day: Griffin. I can’t get him out of my mind.
Or that kiss.
Holy cow, that kiss. I touch my lips, conjuring up the memory, and then roll out of bed.
As I get dressed in my Maverick Farms shirt and my favorite jeans, I try to rationalize my thoughts about Griffin. I’d been kissed before, but something about this was different. It was the feeling in the pit of my stomach when I thought of him. The flip-flop of my belly when he looked my way. The way my skin burned when we touched one another.
All reasons I’d kept my distance the last few days.
I felt exposed. Raw.
Scared.
What if he hasn’t changed?
What if his good looks and charming personality is just a trick, a manipulation?
I pause before my dresser and glance at a photo of my family—my whole family—Mom, Grandma, Pop-Pop, Paul, and me. I look sweet and innocent. I’m not that girl anymore. The day my mom left for good, something in me broke, and it makes trusting anyone outside of Paul difficult.
Seeing how people abuse their kids, and dogs and cats…it makes trusting anyone hard. I’m hard on Griffin for his baggage, but like he joked in the bunk room, I’ve got some of my own.
I’m tugging on my boots when I hear his Jeep pull up the gravel drive. I peek out my bedroom window and see him standing outside the vehicle. He leans in, giving me a nice view of his backside.
“Cool it,” I mutter, taking a deep breath. Another reason I’m keeping my distance. I’m trying to stop from launching myself at him.
He stands and I see he has a caddy filled with coffee. He shuts the door with his hip, and I watch as he speaks to someone—Paul. He hands him a drink and they talk for a minute. I use the moment to revel in his handsome face, his sharp cheekbones and broad shoulders. The cotton stretches across the Maverick Farms T-shirt I gave him to wear today, and I get a little thrill seeing him emblazoned with my name. At that moment, to my horror, he glances up. Our eyes meet and I freeze, but he just winks and heads up the porch steps.
Good grief.
I take a minute to get myself together and then head downstairs.
“Hi,” I say, walking into the kitchen.
“Morning. Regular, with cream, right?” He hands me a coffee. Our fingers touch. Flip-flop.
“Right. Thank you.”
“Figured we could all use an extra boost today.” He eyes me over his coffee cup. “The open house, then the fundraiser. It’s going to be a long one. You excited?”
“Adoption day is bittersweet. I’m happy when the animals find their new homes, but it’s sad to see them go. Especially the ones I’ve bottle fed and stayed up half the night with.”
A line crosses his forehead and he looks deep in thought. “What?”
“I’m just thinking about what a great mom you’ll be one day.”
I have a full body reaction, my heart, my stomach, my skin. I laugh it off and grab my jacket. “Yeah, that’d be a curveball. Can you imagine a kid around here?”
“Yeah, I can.”
I don’t respond. I feel his eyes on my back as I quickly walk out the door. Griffin McGuire is certainly a curveball that I didn’t see coming. Who knows what else he’ll throw my way.
“You’re going to love this little furball,” I say, giving the black and white kitten one last gentle hug. “He likes a bit of snuggling in the morning before he gets busy playing. What are you going to name him?”
The little girl in front of me beams as her mom fills out the final paperwork. “Luke Skywhiskers.”
“That. Is. Perfect.” My heart swells. “You’re going to be a great kitten owner.”
“I already have his bed ready. His bowl is next to it and I put a toy inside.”
“He’s going to love it.” I take the clipboard from her mother. “He’ll need to go to the vet for his follow-up shots in two weeks.”
“No problem. We already have a vet we trust.”
I pet the kitten and wave as they walk to their car. Paul walks over and throws his arm over my shoulder. “That kitten is about to get spoiled rotten.”
“For real.” That’s the truth behind why I’m okay with letting all the animals go; they’re better off with someone that can dote on them. I’m too busy to give them the attention they need.
I scan the farm. Max is busy supervising the kids that want to pet Hamilton. Sherilyn is on the front porch helping people fill out their paperwork. She’s also in charge of donations—people bring towels, newspaper, toys, and treats for the animals.
My gaze drifts over to where Griffin works in the puppy pen. They’re jumping around his ankles, biting his boots. He looks up and our eyes meet for a brief second.
Flip-flop.
“He’s doing a good job.”
“I think it’s important for him to see what we’re doing here—how these families become attached to their pets from that first instant.”
“I agree.” Paul waves to a couple that adopted a dog from us last year. They always come out during our events to donate stacks of newspapers. My brother shoves his hands in his pockets and says, “He likes you.”
I narrow my eyes. “We’re not talking about this.”
He rolls his eyes. “Of course not, but I just wanted to say that I like him but be careful. You can’t fix everyone.”
“You’re the one that wanted me to give him a shot.”
“At redemption, which I think he’s headed for, but I didn’t plan on him taking a shot at you.”
“Paul…”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “I know. I just wanted to put it out there.”
“Put what out there? That he likes me? Or that you like him? Or that you only think I’m interested in rescuing damaged souls.” I sigh. A van pulls up and six kids hop out. There’s no way they won’t be taking home at least one pet. “I’ve got things to do. So do you.”
I avoid my brother for the rest of the day. It’s not hard. We’re busy and break a personal record with adoptions. I’m glad when the open house ends mid-afternoon, but it just starts another wave of work. We’ve got to get all the animals put away and get ready for the fundraiser. Griffin walks over after feeding and putting Dexter and Hamilton up for the night.
“Is it okay if I take off?” He asks. “I’ve got to make a stop before tonight.” He looks down at his dirty shirt. “And take a shower—obviously.”
I smile. “Sure. Max and Sherilyn offered to stay late. They’ll get everyone settled.”
“You sure?” he asks.
“Yeah, I thought maybe a few dogs would get transported tomorrow, but once I saw how things were going with the pre-applications, I cancelled it.”
“Transported?”
“Other areas have less of a stray and abandoned animal population. If we can’t rehome them, then we send them off in a transportation van by one of the other rescue groups. It’s a pretty cool program and frees up space for us to take in more animals.”
“Smart. So, can I, uh,” he rubs t
he back of his neck. “Can I pick you up tonight?”
So we can be alone together? Share another kiss? Yes—
“There’s no need for you to drive back out here. We can meet at the event.”
“Okay, sure.” I don’t miss the disappointment in his eyes. “I’ll see you there. Six-thirty.”
“Yep.”
He walks off, Buddy at his heels, and climbs into his Jeep. I don’t move until he’s halfway down the driveway and Sherilyn steps by my side.
“He’s going to look good in a suit,” she says casually.
“Yeah,” I agree. I had a feeling it may be more than I can handle.
“You ready for this?”
“It’s not a date.”
She shakes her head. “Whatever you say, Maverick, but let me tell you something.”
“What?”
“It’s okay for you to have a good time. It’s also okay for you to let someone into your heart.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “It’s okay to take a risk.”
Griffin McGuire is more than a risk. I had a feeling he could be a game changer.
25
Griffin
I stand in front of the apartment door, bracing myself for my uncle. Any hopes he’d be gone are dashed when I see the flicker of the television through the front window. I need to pick up my suit for the fundraiser tonight and I’ve put it off to the last minute.
I rap my knuckles on the door and wait until he opens it.
“Dude,” James says with a grin. “What’s with the knocking? You lose your key?”
“Nah, just didn’t have it with me,” I lie. Knocking is my attempt to set boundaries—something Gabrielle insists is important as I proceed in the program. This is James’ place. Not mine. James and I both need to get used to that.
He pulls me in a tight, enthusiastic embrace, then steps back for me to enter the apartment. It’s a mess. Bottles and dirty dishes cover the coffee table. The kitchen stove smells like something burned in the microwave. I knew I did a fair amount of the cleaning—it seemed right since he let me move in, but until this moment, I didn’t realize how much.
“So,” he says, “what do I owe the pleasure? You’ve got another week, right?”
“Yeah,” I step over a bag of garbage. “I’m going to this thing tonight and need my suit.”
“A suit?” His eyebrow arches. “Something fancy?”
“It’s with the program I’m working with. A fundraiser.” I’m wary of giving him too much information.
“Ah, mandatory, huh? That Judge,” he shakes his head knowingly, “he can’t give you a break.”
I stare at James. “Going to a fundraiser for a good program isn’t a punishment—I definitely prefer it to prison.”
He shrugs. “Whatever. Seems like a hassle to me.”
I walk down the hall and enter my room. It’s not safe from James’ clutter—boxes are stacked on the bed. I’m just thankful he’s not keeping any dogs right now. I’m not sure how I’d handle that.
I open the closet and find my suit hanging on the rack—still in the plastic from the cleaners. It’s not my suit—not really—it’d belonged to my dad. One of the few things I kept when we cleaned out and sold the house.
I bend over and pick up a pair of shoes. When I turn around, I’m surprised to see James in the doorway. His hands are tucked in his pockets and he’s leaning against the frame. “Listen, we need to talk about that job.”
The job. I’d naively hoped that it wouldn’t happen. Jobs fall through all the time. Half are concocted over beer and pizza down at the bar. Doesn’t seem like this is one of those times.
“What about it?”
“It’s happening soon—can I count on you?”
“Tell me again what it involves?” He’d promised it was legit—legal, but I knew better than that. I’m not the same ignorant fool that lived here before.
“All you need to know is to be ready when I call.”
I cut him a look. “James, I’m not walking into something blind.”
“You never asked questions before.”
“Because I was an idiot.” I walk past him back down the hall, but spin before I reach the kitchen. “Did you know about the fighting rings?”
He studies me carefully. “What about the fighting rings?"
“That some of the dogs we were flipping were going to dog fighters? That they were getting sent to the rings to be bet on and worse?”
“I have a policy of don’t ask, don’t tell. If someone wants a dog and has the cash to pay for it, then it’s all good with me. It’s the smart way to do business.” He says it like a warning. “But, yeah, certain dogs are bred for that life. Pitbulls, Rottweilers, Dobermans. I’m not surprised some land in that circle.”
Rage, pure, unadulterated rage, runs through me, but I bite down on it. I refuse to let him see how angry I am, because like I said, I was the idiot for not asking.
I can’t say that anymore. My eyes are wide open.
I swallow my anger and say, “I’ll do the job. But I want to know everything beforehand.” He starts to argue but I hold up my hand. “My freedom is on the line, James, you tell me or I’m out.”
My uncle studies me for a second and says, “Okay, but only because we’re family and I trust you,” then proceeds to tell me the plan, the whole plan, because the one thing we have in common is blood. And sometimes you have to make sacrifices for family.
The fundraiser is held at a hotel overlooking the river. I’ve never been to a place this nice before and it occurs to me that being part of this world, Maverick’s world, opens up so many opportunities I wouldn’t have experienced otherwise.
I stand in the entry and fuss with my tie. The suit is dark blue, the tie gray. I lucked out that it fit—two years ago it would have been too big. I’d filled out over the last few years. I’ve taken on the stature of my father and it’s an overwhelming feeling.
“Griff.” I turn when I hear my name but it’s like the whole world stops. Maverick walks toward me in a sparkling silver dress. Her hair is twisted up in a fancy knot and tiny silver earrings twinkle against her lobes. She smiles bashfully. She has nothing—absolutely nothing—to feel self-conscious about. She looks outstanding. “Look at you.” She squeezes my bicep. “I had no idea you cleaned up so well.”
“I, uh,” my mind is a fog. I knew Maverick was gorgeous, but this is a new level. “You look beautiful.”
Her cheeks heat. “I’d much rather be in boots and jeans, but thank you.”
Paul wanders over, looking like a million bucks.
“Hey man,” he says, clapping me on the back. There’s no trace of the overprotective brother tonight. His eyes scan the room, lighting up when he sees a petite blonde by the bar. “You guys have fun—later.”
“Who’s that?” I ask, nodding at the woman.
“Josie. She works at one of the veterinary clinics.” Paul walks over and starts chatting her up. “He’s been trying to work up the nerve to ask her out for a while now.”
“Nerve? Paul. He seems pretty confident.”
She nods. “He is, but I think it’s more about me than anything else. He’s worried I’ll feel abandoned or something.”
“Well, not tonight. I’ll take on the role of big brother if you want.”
She raises an eyebrow and her fingers thread through mine. “Maybe not big brother.”
My heart pounds in my chest. Her hand feels so small against mine. “Right. Definitely not your brother.”
We laugh, cutting a little of the tension. It’s odd seeing her like this and I can tell she feels the same way about me. We’re dressed up. We’re different people. She’s not the scrappy animal rescuer. I’m not the criminal on my last chance. Tonight, we look like two good-looking people here to raise some money, eat good food, and have a little fun.
I, for one, am ready to put my baggage behind me and go for it.
26
Mave
Griffin McGuire cleans up well
.
Almost too well.
Standing next to him with his hair casually styled, the scruff of his beard neat, the long lines of his body in that well-fitted and surprisingly expensive-looking suit; people notice him. They notice me. More than once I have to stop myself from touching his hand, his arm, to let the room know he’s with me.
Fortunately, he seems to have the same desire. More than once, he guides me through the main room with his hand gently pressed on my lower back. Every time it feels right, perfectly right, and that may be scarier than anything else.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asks.
“Just sparkling water, thank you.”
“Be right back.” He walks across the room to the bar. After he gets in line, he looks over at me and winks.
My heart somersaults in response.
“Ms. Frayer.”
I turn and see a familiar face. “Oh, Judge Johnson, nice to see you.”
The Judge stands before me in a charcoal gray suit. I knew he was handsome, Chance Johnson has a permanent spot on the “Most Eligible Bachelor” list for the town, but out of the formal robe it’s even more noticeable.
“Is that Griffin McGuire with you?” he asks, gesturing across the room.
“Yes,” I look over at Griffin. His eyes dart to the Judge and he instinctively straightens his shoulders. “I thought it may be good for him to see a different side of the cause.”
“Excellent idea,” he says. “How has the community service been going?”
“We had a rocky start, but he’s shown some real improvement with his understanding and compassion for the animals we rescue. He’s even become quite taken with one of the dogs we saved from a fighting ring. Nursed him back to health.”
His eyebrow lifts. “Impressive. I wasn’t sure how this one would turn out.”
“What do you mean?”
“Changing attitudes on something like this can be a challenge. Griffin’s family is involved—and it’s doubtful that his uncle will stop his criminal behavior unless he’s jailed himself, which he always seems to slip though. Griffin will most likely have to separate himself from him to remain law abiding. It’s a hard decision, especially when you don’t have much family in the first place.”
Rescuing the Bad Boy: Bad Boy Sweet Romance (Last Chance at Love Book 1) Page 11
