Unexpectedly Mine (Birch Crossing Book 1)

by Stephanie Rowe

  "Jeremy runs over here sometimes before we go out. He changes out of his running clothes after he gets here." Katie shrugged. "Not a big deal mom. We're just friends."

  "Naked friends are not allowed! There will be no more naked men in this house," Clare said, her palms breaking out into a sweat. "None!"

  Her daughter and Griffin looked at each other, and then back at her. Griffin was grinning and so was her deviant daughter, already co-conspirators against her. "And what?" Katie asked. "Griffin and Jeremy are just supposed to shower with their bathing suits on?"

  "Well, not Griffin," Clare stuttered, then her face heated up again at Griffin's wicked smile, and her daughter's burst of laughter. "I mean, because he's going to live here! But no boys, and not in your room—"

  Griffin set his hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Clare. I won't get naked if you don't want me to."

  "Jeremy will," Katie said. "I can't stop him. Boys just like to be naked and—"

  "Enough!" Clare glared at them both. "You both are going to eat lentil soup and liver tonight." She pointed at her daughter, her hand trembling, but she had to know. She had to understand the truth and face it. "Have you ever kissed Jeremy?" She'd given that boy full reign of her house and her daughter for years, assuming that they were just friends. But nakedness? "Have you?"

  Katie giggled. "You're so uptight, Mom. If you let someone kiss you, maybe you'd realize it isn't such a big deal."

  Clare couldn't bring herself to look at Griffin's response to that remark, and a cold dread beat at her as she faced her daughter, preparing to ask the question she'd been fearing since Katie was born. "Katie, are you having sex with Jeremy?" Her heart stuttered and a sharp pain ricocheted through her chest. Please God, let the answer be no. "I won't judge you, but I need to know—"

  "Mom!" Katie looked appalled at the question, sending a stricken glance over to Griffin to see if he was listening. "I'm not having sex with him, or any other guy! Jeremy is always in the bathroom, alone, when he's changing. I haven't seen him naked since we were about five! Okay?"

  Clare let out her breath. She knew her daughter well enough to know she was telling the truth. Her body began to shake with relief, and her legs suddenly felt weak. "Okay." It was okay. Her daughter wasn't about to get pregnant. It was still okay.

  Griffin raised his brows at her. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes, fine, just an overactive imagination." Clare shook out her hands and took a deep breath.

  Katie grinned, her eyes radiating with excitement. "But Jeremy did kiss me last night when we thought we were going to die," she sang. "It was pretty cute."

  "He did?" Clare couldn't help but smile at the twinkle on her daughter's face, remembering that excitement of a first kiss, but at the same time, she felt her heart sinking. Her little girl was too young to be heading down this path. Yes, it was just a kiss, thank heavens, but still. "Do you like him?"

  Katie shrugged. "I don't know. We'll see." She glanced over at Griffin, who had been watching the whole exchange with an increasingly furrowed brow. "Can I have Jeremy and Sara over for dinner? Jeremy is dying to see Griffin again, and Sara wants to meet him."

  Oh, right. The last thing Clare needed was for Eppie to hear that she was getting Katie and her friends emotionally invested in a serial killing outsider. "No, I don't think so. Not tonight."

  Katie ignored her and turned to Griffin, directing her question at him. "Is it okay with you? They'd go crazy if they got to have dinner with you."

  Clare blinked at her daughter's dismissal of her. "Hello? Who's the mom here?"

  Griffin glanced at Clare, then back at Katie. There was an expression on his face that she couldn't decipher. There was uncertainty, discomfort, but also a sense of surprised delight. Of what? Her daughter's adulation? He turned to Katie. "I'd like to get to know Jeremy a little better," he said. "Bring him over."

  "No!" Clare stepped between them, needing to reclaim her space. Yes, she was pretty sure Griffin wanted to terrify Jeremy into keeping his underwear on anytime he was in her house and she appreciated it, but she could handle it. She had to handle it, because where would she be if she let Griffin fight her battles, and then he left? "Griffin has work to do, and he won't be sharing dinners with us the way other renters have."

  "Are you serious?" Katie gaped at her. "Why not? What's wrong with Griffin?"

  Other than the fact he made Clare's entire body melt with desire and all sorts of womanly feelings that she barely even recognized, let alone knew how to deal with? "Nothing, but—"

  "You just don't want a man at our table, do you?" Katie grabbed her cereal bowl in a dramatic display of disgust. "Jeremy thinks you're frigid, you know. That's why you never date anyone."

  "What?" Clare gaped at her daughter as Griffin started coughing, doing a pathetic job at hiding his amusement.

  "If you are frigid, that's cool with me, but don't make Griffin starve because of it." Katie sighed as she walked past them. "I'm going out."

  Clare didn't dare even look at Griffin. Frigid? Really? "No, you're staying here today."

  Katie shot Clare a look of bored condescension, as if it was so beneath her to have to educate her mother as to the basics of life. "I'm going to the library to study with Sara. Physics test tomorrow. I can't pass it without her help."

  "Physics test? And you were going camping?" Clare felt like banging her head against the wall. "What kind of responsible decision is that?"

  Katie met her gaze, her eyes steely and rebellious. "I hate physics, and I'd rather fail it and have a fun weekend, than stay in all weekend and pass the test. I don't want to go to MIT this summer, Mom. I really don't. I don't want to spend my summer with a bunch of geeks creating some robot that can sift through sand on Mars. Seriously. "

  Clare sighed. "I know you don't, sweetheart." She was beginning to suspect she was never going to convince her daughter it was a good idea.

  Katie met her gaze, waiting. "So?"

  "So, you still have to go."

  "You're impossible!" Katie groaned with aggravation and stomped out of the room. There was the clank of her bowl being dropped on the counter, and then the quick tempo of her feet as she raced up the creaky old stairs.

  Clare sighed, and then she saw Griffin watching her. Assessing her parenting capacities? She didn't need that. She got enough grief from Eppie. "Not a word," she said to him, holding up her hand to stave off any comments. "I don't want to hear it."

  He held up his hands in surrender, his face so innocent she almost laughed. "Since I can't eat dinner here, I was just wondering where I'm going to get takeout in this town. Got any suggestions?"

  "Takeout?" Was she really going to make him order takeout? Clare capitulated at his innocent expression. No, of course she wasn't. And not just because the rental agreement he'd signed specified that food was included. She didn't want people messing in her kitchen, and she'd learned long ago that the best way to keep them out was to feed them until they couldn't bear the thought of even going near her kitchen except at mealtimes.

  The truth was that she actually did kind of want a man at her dinner table. Not just a man. This one. This stranger from the outside, with obligations and baggage, a man who didn't know how to hug a teenage girl, yet somehow managed to cull utter adoration from the same. He got Katie to smile. And that was something she would treasure.

  But as Clare heard Katie's door slam, she grimaced. What was she doing, bringing Griffin into their home? Into their lives? He'd be gone the minute they got used to him. She couldn't afford to rely on him—

  Then she felt his hand on her shoulder. Her body tightened, and she looked up into his intense dark eyes. "What?"

  His thumb rubbed softly over her shoulder. "The summer study at MIT is a great program. I went to it when I was fifteen. We worked on computer chips for NASA. Coolest experience I've ever had."

  Oh, God, it felt unbelievable to be touched like that. "Are you serious?" She could barely concentrate on his words, she was
so startled by the sensation of his hand rubbing her muscles. "You went there?"

  He nodded. "Sure did." He glanced at the stairs, moving his hand slightly so he could rub the base of her neck. "Katie must be very smart to get into that program."

  Clare smiled, unable to hide her pride, even as a part of her began the slow process of melting at the decadently sensual sensation of his fingers against her bare skin. "She is. She works really hard." Then she sighed, closing her eyes to focus on Griffin's touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched her like that, and she didn't want to miss a second of it. "But she's a little resistant, as you can see." She tilted her head, giving him more room to work on her neck. The slide of his fingers across her skin was delicious, the kneading of his knuckles was a luxurious sensation that made her want to surrender to his touch and turn herself over to him on every level.

  Maybe Astrid was right about the benefits of occasionally letting a man into her life. Because this felt amazing, unreal, magical…words she couldn’t even think of, creating sensations within her that she could barely even fathom. "Would you maybe talk to Katie about MIT? Tell her how much you enjoyed it? I mean, she thinks you're so cool that maybe she'll listen and—"

  "Sure."

  Relief rushed through her, and she opened her eyes, startled to see Griffin watching her intently, as if he were trying to see right into her soul. "Really?"

  He nodded as he continued to dig his fingers into the knot in her neck. His offer to help and the soothing allure of his massage eased the tension that had kept her captive for so long. "Of course I will," he said. "Consider it done."

  A weight began to lift from Clare and she smiled at him, hopelessly lost in the intensity of his gaze. What if he could help Katie see the benefit of MIT and good grades when Clare had been unable to do so? It was worth the risk. "You can eat at my table."

  His hand stilled, and his eyes darkened. "I would like that."

  She swallowed at the sudden heat that flared in her belly. "It's not personal," she clarified. "It's only to help Katie." And then, she blurted out, "And to prove to my daughter that I don't have a thing against men." Oh, no. Had she really said that?

  His eyebrows went up, and a wickedly sexy smile curved his mouth. "Clare, there's no chance in hell I would ever believe you're frigid."

  Her heart began to race. "No?"

  His gaze went to her mouth, and then back to her eyes. "Not with the way you look at me."

  She swallowed, her body vibrating at the intensity of his gaze, and the weight of his hand as he caressed her neck. "How do I look at you?" she whispered, her voice too breathy.

  "Exactly how I want you to." His voice was low, and his hand paused as his gaze dropped to her mouth again, and this time, there was no mistaking the desire that flared in his eyes.

  Oh, God. Her stomach jumped, and she felt light-headed. "What does that mean?"

  He winked. "Figure it out. I'm going to get my bags." He squeezed her shoulder and then, without another word, he turned and walked back out the door, leaving her to wish desperately that the extra bedroom was not right next to hers.

  And, at the same time, unable to stop thinking about the fact it was.

  Chapter 6

  It was already six o'clock by the time Griffin finally got his gear settled in Clare's spare room, the afternoon somehow consumed by bringing in firewood, cleaning the mud off his truck, helping Clare unload mulch for her yard, and getting the Wi-Fi going. She hadn't asked for his help with the chores, and he hadn't thought to offer, but somehow, he'd ended up doing it.

  And he hadn't really minded. He'd actually enjoyed the day.

  He was grinning as he finally strode into his room to get his own things taken care of. The room was old and worn, and there were water marks on the wall that gave credence to Clare's claim about the deteriorating roof.

  But the blue and red plaid quilt appeared to be hand-made, and the birch log lamp beside the bed was topped with a soft, white lampshade that cast a warm light over the room. There was a lake scene hanging over the bed, which he was guessing was the Black Bear Lake that edged up against the south side of town. Faded green curtains treated the windows, and the old dresser had a few dents, but everything was clean, neat and smelled fresh.

  Griffin was accustomed to stainless steel fixtures, off-white walls with carefully selected artwork of the highest caliber, and glossy wood floors. But as he surveyed the room, something about it felt comfortable. It actually kind of reminded him of the way his mother had kept house. Old but with a charm and an elegance that couldn't be found in a new high rise like the one he lived in.

  He ran his hand over the door frame, noting that the joints were smooth and perfect, and the wood was beautifully grained beneath the stain. It was a house that had been made with skill and care, a personalization he hadn't thought about in a long time, not since the days he and his dad had spent at their mountain cabin, building furniture and getting simpatico with the life of a woodsman.

  Clare's house fit her perfectly. Warm, natural, with an elemental beauty that could never be artificially created.

  He smiled to himself as he walked across the room and retrieved his phone from the pocket of his jacket, which he then tossed on the bed. What was he doing staying in this place? He was a hotel guy, not a bed and breakfast guy. He liked his space. He liked his privacy. He liked people to leave him alone.

  But this morning, in that store, with all the rumors of his murderous tendencies flying around, Clare had seemed like an oasis amidst the hell. Now that he was here, it still felt like the right call.

  Griffin's warmth faded as he contemplated the rumors that had been circulating at the store this morning. He was here to murder his ex-wife and daughter? What was that about? He was used to people not being fond of him, but a murder rap was new, and he wasn't really liking it.

  Had his ex-wife started it? Tension roiled through Griffin at the thought. That wouldn't be unlike her. Doing anything she could to get his daughter to hate him. But a murderer? During their brutal divorce, she'd worked so hard to turn Brooke against him, and his battle to keep a connection with his daughter had been even more draining than the divorce itself. Once Hillary had met her new husband and taken off to Maine, his daughter had finally slipped out of his fingers completely, no matter how many times he'd called and emailed, trying to reach her.

  It had been a year since he'd seen Brooke, but he was done being shut out. He was going to get his daughter back, and he wasn't going to give up until he'd succeeded.

  Swearing under his breath, Griffin picked up his phone and speed-dialed the number that hadn't successfully connected with a live person in far too long. It rang. Not going directly into voicemail this time. Hope flared—

  "Hi, this is Brooke. You missed me. Leave me a message, and maybe I'll call you back."

  Griffin sighed at the familiar sound of his daughter's recorded voice. "Hey, Brookie. It's Dad. I'm up in Maine now. I'd like to swing by and take you to dinner tomorrow. How about I pick you up around six? If I don't hear from you, I'll assume that works and I'll see you at your place."

  He paused as he pulled a small, white jewelry box out of his pocket. He flipped the lid and studied the delicate gold chain with a single pink pearl. "Got a birthday present for you that I know you'll love. I'm... yeah... I'm sorry I missed your birthday. I'll make it up." The image of Clare and her daughter hugging each other in the pouring rain flashed in his mind, and his throat suddenly thickened. He closed his eyes and pressed the phone to his forehead, blowing out a breath before continuing. "Anyway, yeah, hope everything's going well. Talk to you tomorrow."

  He disconnected the call, suddenly feeling the emptiness of the room. Of the house. Yeah, he could hear Clare and Katie talking in the kitchen, and the clank of pots echoed through the house, but it wasn't his daughter who was down the hall. Why hadn't Brooke answered his call? He'd left at least six messages telling her that he was coming to town.

  Scowl
ing, Griffin strode across the room and raised the window sash. Warm, moist wind blew in, as if the lake was waking up from its winter nap and filling the air with its energy. He propped his boot up on the wooden sill and let the breeze rush into the room, filling it with life.

  Keeping it fresh.

  A hollowness settled upon Griffin as he watched the pine trees waving in the gentle wind, the leaves skittering across the lawn that spring had just barely touched with green. He shouldn’t have decided to stay here. In this home. With a mother and daughter bonding. It made him remember what it felt like to be alone in his own home. In his office, while he heard Hillary and Brooke giggling in the other room.

  He'd been an outsider in his own home, and now he was there again.

  Shit.

  His phone rang and he jumped to answer it before the caller could change her mind. "Brooke?"

  "No, sorry, it's Phillip. Have you spoken to Brooke yet?"

  Griffin swore under his breath at the sound of his business partner's voice. Phillip Schnur had been his number two guy at Free Love Slippers, and they'd broken away from the slipper biz together, ready to pursue new ventures, several of which Phillip was currently investigating while Griffin was tracking down his daughter.

  "I haven't reached her." Griffin turned away from the window and grabbed his briefcase off the floor. "I'm going to see her tomorrow." He unzipped it and removed his laptop.

  "Well, you better step it up. Things are moving faster here than we anticipated."

  Griffin set his laptop on the card table that Clare had set up as his desk. "What's going on?" The sale of Free Love had been completed only last week, and it had taken Griffin too long to get everything organized for his trip up here. He'd left Phillip in charge of due diligence for several businesses that they'd been tracking for a while, but he hadn't expected anything to happen so soon.