“No one thinks you are.” Maggie ran a fingertip across Morgan’s forehead, along the baby-fine strands at her hairline. Morgan used to love for Maggie to play with her hair. They’d snuggle in Maggie’s bed late at night in the months after their mom had died. Morgan was only five, infinitely too young for that kind of loss.
“Why were you with Griffin tonight?” Morgan asked, her voice gentler than it had been earlier. Curious but not accusatory.
“We drove down to the coast. I’d spent the whole morning at the Pioneer Day Festival and wanted to get away for a bit.”
“You left a town event?” One side of Morgan’s mouth curved. “First the wedding and now you’re skipping out on official duties. Who’s the real rebel around here?”
Maggie was saved from answering when Griffin returned to the car.
“Everything okay with Cole?”
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Morgan offered from the back seat. “You don’t need to be so hard on him.”
“He told me he wants to change his reputation,” Griffin said, shifting the SUV into Reverse. “So he should stay away from parties where the cops are going to be called.”
“He was only there for a few minutes,” Morgan argued. “He came in, pulled me out and we left.”
Griffin flicked a pointed look at Maggie. “He mentioned that.”
“Morgan, no more sneaking out.”
“Tell Dad not to ground me.”
“I can’t.” Maggie sighed. “He’s the parent, and he’s trying. Give him a little credit.”
“It was one stupid test and she didn’t give us a decent study guide. I don’t even know if I’m going to go to college.”
Maggie sat forward so abruptly the seat belt cut into the skin at the base of her neck. “Excuse me?”
“Just because it was your path,” Morgan said, derision dripping from her voice, “doesn’t mean it’s mine. Ask Grammy. She’ll be happy to tell you all the ways I pale in comparison to you. I have to find my own way.”
“Okay,” Maggie said slowly, ignoring the way her stomach lurched. They reached her father’s house, and Griffin pulled into the driveway. “We can talk about that later. Go deal with Dad.”
“Fine.” Morgan gave another put-upon sigh. “Are you coming in?”
“Give me a minute.”
“Thanks for the ride,” she said to Griffin.
“You’re welcome.”
She opened the door and started to climb out. Then she scooted back over to the center of the back seat. “Tonight wasn’t Cole’s fault. For real. Don’t...like...fire him or anything, okay?”
Griffin nodded. “He still has a job at Harvest.”
When Morgan closed the door, Maggie dropped her head into her hands. “What happened to our perfect night?”
“Too much adulting,” Griffin said, reaching out to massage his fingers against the back of her neck.
“She’s out of control,” Maggie whispered.
“Only by your standards. In normal teenager land, she’s doing great.”
Maggie snorted. “Not go to college? Are you joking?”
“I didn’t make it to college,” Griffin reminded her.
“You’re different. Do you think Morgan is going to join the army with her current path?”
“She’s got nothing on me as a teen,” Griffin answered immediately. “Probably not on Cole Maren, either.”
“You were hard on him.” Maggie undid her seat belt, rested a hand on Griffin’s arm. He stiffened under her touch. “Why?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, only lifted his hands in front of him like the answers to all of life’s questions could be found in the lines on his palms.
“I know he comes from a troubled family,” she continued. “But he seems like a good kid.”
“He reminds me of me at that age, and that’s not saying much.” Griffin squeezed his hands into fists. “Would you have dated me when we were younger?” He laughed. “Don’t answer that. You won’t date me now, so there’s no way I would have stood a chance back then.”
She felt her mouth drop open. “You wouldn’t have wanted a chance when we were in high school. I was three years younger for one thing, and not at all your type for another. Now is different. It’s not about you, Griffin. You don’t understand how things are in this town.”
“An excuse and we both know it.”
Maggie reached for the door, then stopped. Was he right? Was she using her position as mayor as a reason not to take a chance with Griffin? What would be so bad if she and Griffin were dating? Everyone thought she was horrible for walking away from her wedding and Trevor. How much worse could her reputation get at this point?
She realized with sudden clarity that her reputation was not the issue. She’d learned a painfully abrupt lesson in the past week. People would judge her no matter what, and she was sick of caring about the opinion of everyone around her. But what she did care about was having her heart well and truly broken.
Walking away from Trevor and taking the blame for ruining the wedding had been humiliating—but also brought a strange kind of relief. Griffin would be different. He was a man who truly had the ability to hurt her if she gave him the chance.
Could she trust him?
“I’m scared,” she whispered, then blew out a breath as he took her hand in his. “I haven’t been truly terrified of something for years.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said like he could read her mind.
She turned to him, gazed into his green eyes, lit by the dashboard lights. The mix of vulnerability and hope there made her heart hammer in her chest. Griffin didn’t let people in easily, and the fact that he seemed ready to lower his walls for her made her want to be brave for him in return.
“What if I hurt you?” she asked, her voice breathless.
He lifted her hand to his mouth, pressed a gentle kiss on each of her knuckles. Her skin tingled where his lips touched her. She wanted more. So much more. “I’ll risk it.”
Risk. That was the key word. There was no good return without taking a risk.
Maggie licked her lips, then leaned over and kissed Griffin. His mouth was soft yet firm against hers. She breathed in the scent of him, clean and spicy, and realized that everything about this moment felt right. Despite the crazy circumstances that led them here, she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in the world right now.
Griffin tilted his head, and she opened for him as he deepened the kiss. A moan rose in her throat, or maybe the sound came from him. It was difficult to know where she left off and he began. Her body was on fire, and she tried to move closer, wanting the feel of his body against hers. Wanting everything he could give her.
But the blasted man was in no hurry. He seemed content to savor her, trailing kisses across her jaw and nipping on her sensitive earlobe. She gave a little cry in response, and desire pooled low in her belly. Her body was alive in a way she’d never experienced. Griffin’s kiss was everything.
He cupped her face in his hands, kissed her once more, then pulled away.
She shook her head, twining her arms around his neck. “Not enough,” she whispered.
“Not nearly enough,” he agreed but pulled away farther, circling her wrists with his fingers. “But we’re in the driveway of your father’s house. Anyone could walk by and see us.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s after midnight.”
“Your dad could come out.”
“We’re adults, Griffin. I’m not the one who was grounded tonight.”
“I want to be respectful.”
“Words I never expected to hear coming from you,” she said with a laugh.
He smoothed his thumbs over the pulse points on the insides of her wrists, the touch at once tender and erotic. “I told you I’ve changed.”
; “Thank you again for tonight, both the date—” she emphasized the word, needing to reassure herself it was real “—and your help with tracking down Morgan.”
“You’re welcome,” he told her. He glanced past her toward the house, his mouth quirking on one side. “Your dad is headed this way.”
Maggie tugged her arms out of his grasp and automatically smoothed a hand through her hair. She opened the SUV’s door just as her father reached the car.
“Everything okay?” he asked, glancing from her to Griffin with a raised brow. “Hey, Grif.”
“Jim.”
“It’s fine.” Maggie climbed out of the car.
“You two were out to dinner tonight?” Her father rubbed a hand over his face in a gesture that must have been universal for exasperated dads everywhere.
“We drove over to Lychen,” Maggie told him. “I needed to get out of town.”
Her father looked shocked. “That’s a first. I didn’t realize the two of you were friends.”
“Thanks again, Griffin,” Maggie said and quickly shut the door before her father could ask any questions. They stood in silence as Griffin pulled away, the red taillights disappearing around the corner at the end of the street.
“So, Griffin Stone,” her dad murmured. “Seems like I’m too out of touch with both my daughters.”
“You’re doing fine,” Maggie said, linking her arm with his. “Is Morgan in bed?”
Jim sighed and let her lead him back toward the house. “I took away her phone, so now she really hates me.”
“I think that’s normal at her age.”
He held the front door for her. “You were never like that,” he said as she passed through.
“I wasn’t normal,” she admitted.
“You didn’t get to be because of your mom,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for that.”
She turned and hugged him. “You did the best you could.”
“You’re sweet but we both know that’s not true. I’m trying to do better now.”
“Good.” She pulled away. “I’m going up to bed.”
“Do you want to talk about you and Griffin kissing in the driveway?”
Heat colored her cheeks and she shook her head. “Nope.”
“I’ll admit,” her dad said with a laugh, “that’s a relief. But I’m here if you need me. I love you, Mags.”
“You, too, Dad.” She walked up the stairs, and although everything in her life was uncertain at the moment, she felt more at peace than she had in ages.
Chapter Ten
The following Wednesday morning Griffin looked up from the piece of trim he’d just cut to find Trevor glaring at him.
“Come to lend a hand?” he asked, gesturing to the men lifting load-bearing wall beams into place. Marcus had lent him several laborers to help with demolition earlier in the week, and Griffin had hired a framing crew to handle the main structure.
It was too soon to make real predictions, but if work continued at this pace they’d have the tasting room open for the busy fall tourist season. With the valley painted in Mother Nature’s finest palette and the lingering warm daytime temperatures and crisp nights, Stonecreek was always a popular destination in late September and early October.
“What are you doing with Maggie?” Trevor demanded, his gaze laser focused on Griffin.
Griffin set down the circular saw he’d been using, peeled off his leather gloves and wiped a hand over the sweat beading at his temple. “I don’t suppose none of your business would suffice as an answer?”
“Half a dozen people have called or texted me to say that they saw the two of you together the past week looking quite chummy.”
“Um...” Griffin tapped a finger on his chin. “I don’t think of Maggie as a ‘chum,’ but whatever works for you, Trev.”
“Nothing about this works for me,” Trevor shouted, then closed his eyes and took an audible breath as the men working on the other side of the room stopped to stare.
“Let’s walk outside,” Griffin offered, not wanting to have this conversation with an audience. He didn’t particularly care about Trevor’s temper, but there was no doubt the Stone brothers arguing over Maggie Spencer would be hot news. Griffin wanted to avoid anything that might upset her.
This worrying about someone else’s feelings was a new thing for him. Sure he’d cared about his army buddies. He would have gladly taken a bullet for any of them. Since retiring from the service, he’d made friends on construction sites across the Pacific Northwest. But Maggie was different. He didn’t want anything to give her a reason to end what was happening between them.
He’d seen her only twice since their trip to Lychen—once for a quick dinner at the pizza place in town and then a picnic and hiking at Strouds Run State Park last night. The picnic had been her idea, mostly due to the attention they’d received in town. They’d taken a long walk through the park’s trail system, then spread a blanket in a grassy meadow for a romantic dinner. But it wasn’t enough for Griffin.
He wanted to spend more time together—he could imagine sharing every little thing that happened in his day with her. Another new phenomenon since he’d always thought of himself as a loner. But they’d talked on the phone each night, and just hearing her voice made him happy.
The exact opposite of how he felt facing his brother now.
“I thought your lunch was a coincidence,” Trevor said, hands on his hips.
“It was.”
“What about this week?”
Griffin shrugged. “Not a coincidence.”
“So you’re taking on my sloppy seconds?”
The words were no sooner out of Trevor’s mouth than Griffin reached out and grabbed his brother’s shirtfront, yanking him closer. “Don’t talk about her that way. You said she didn’t make you happy. Why does it bother you if I’m dating her?”
“Dating.” Trevor jerked out of Griffin’s hold. “Why doesn’t it bother you that I had her first? Unless you’re seriously trying to imitate my life.”
“I won’t do this with you anymore,” Griffin answered, even though he wanted to go after Trevor with every fiber of his being. This is how it had always started with the two of them. Trevor goading Griffin into a reaction, and Griffin taking the bait every time. Then he’d be the one to look like the hot-tempered jerk for arguing or fighting or doing something stupid.
“What if I’d married her?” Trevor straightened the collar of his shirt, color creeping up his neck. “Would you be lusting after my wife?”
“You didn’t marry her.”
A muscle ticked in Trevor’s jaw. “This is going to hurt her chances for reelection. This town is everything to the Spencers.”
“It won’t,” Griffin insisted, even though he had a suspicion Trevor was right. Their cousin Jason had called yesterday to simultaneously warn him away from Maggie and thank him for helping to cast more of a shadow on her reputation.
As much as he wanted to believe her personal life wouldn’t have an effect on the community supporting her in the election, he wasn’t that naive. Emotions always played a part in politics, and those in Stonecreek were running high against Maggie.
“Whatever you’re playing at with her can’t last,” Trevor said, his tone cool.
Griffin kept his features placid, even though he felt his brother’s words like a sharp right to the jaw.
“It’s none of your business,” Griffin muttered, hating that it was the best he could come up with. He wasn’t one for long relationships, hadn’t had a girlfriend for more than a few months at a time his whole life.
Yes, Maggie was different, but had he really changed that much?
“You already realize it.” Trevor’s smile was smug. “I knew this was some stupid game to get back at me.”
“For what?” Griffin demanded, letting anger seep i
nto his tone. “I left Stonecreek. I have a life beyond the family business. I got out from under Dad’s thumb. Why would I want to get back at you?”
The smile vanished from Trevor’s face as quickly as it had appeared. “Because he loved me,” he answered before turning and walking away. He climbed into his Porsche and raced down the driveway, disappearing in a cloud of dust.
Bile rose in Griffin’s throat, razor sharp and rancid. He swallowed against it, then paced to the edge of the hillside. Since he’d returned home, the vineyard felt like a sanctuary. He walked the rows of vines in the early mornings, sometimes on his own or sometimes with Marcus, who kept the same presunrise hours as Griffin did.
He loved the scent of the earth and watching the grapes begin to flower, the young shoots like buttons on the tips of the vines. He and Marcus spoke about the growing cycle, the climate, pests and the season’s progression to the fruit set and beyond to harvesting. It calmed Griffin in a way nothing had in years to reconnect with the land that way.
In the space of a few minutes Trevor made him question everything about his life here. Were he and Maggie doomed from the start? Was he only trying to prove that his dad had been wrong about him for so many years? Was all of this a mistake?
He turned back to the tasting room, watching as workers made their ways in and out of the front of the building. It had seemed so easy—returning and becoming part of the business again. Marcus sought him out each day, asking his opinion on various viticultural practices. It was what Griffin had wanted growing up—to become an integral part of Harvest. Trevor’s words reminded him he was an outsider even now.
Then Maggie appeared from around the corner, her gaze taking in the busy construction site as she walked.
She wore a fitted dress that just grazed her knees with a wide belt encircling her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and his fingers itched to pull out the elastic that held it in place and watch it cascade over her shoulders. What he wanted more was to see it pool across his pillow, but he was determined to take things slow. She was skittish and he didn’t want his shocking need for her to ruin things before they started.
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