Always Be Mine: Sweetbriar Cove: Book Nine

by Melody Grace

  “More,” she gasped, and Griffin groaned against her in response.

  “God, Lila . . .”

  Yes. There . . .

  He drove into her, over and over, until Lila lost track of time. Every new thrust sent her careening closer to the edge, heat coiling tighter, until she couldn’t hold back anymore. It was all too much. Griffin captured her mouth in another blazing kiss, his body demanding everything she had to give.

  She broke apart with a cry.

  Pleasure shattered through her, hot and swift, and Lila surrendered to the rush, holding on to Griffin for dear life as he thrust into her again, and again, until he shuddered into her with a ragged cry, leaving them both breathless and gasping in the tangled sheets.

  Lila lay there, her head spinning, her body glowing with a gorgeous ache.

  What was that?

  And could she please do it again?

  Griffin tugged her into the crook of his arm. They were both damp and sweaty, but she didn’t care. She exhaled, feeling her blood thick with sweetness, her pulse slowly drifting down from the peak. He dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder. “OK?” he asked softly.

  OK? The man rocked her world, and then asked if it was just OK? Lila had to laugh.

  She caught a flash of confusion on his face. “Sorry,” she said, still giggling. “It’s just . . . Yes. I’m OK. More than OK.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” A smile played on his lips. Griffin reached over and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Because laughter isn’t my usual feedback, I’ll have you know.”

  Lila smirked. “Because we’re usually crying?”

  “If you mean sobbing with gratitude, then yes.” Griffin laughed, then rolled them suddenly, pinning her beneath him in the sheets.

  Lila looked up at him: that charming smile, those piercing blue eyes. She’d thought she had him figured out, but now she wondered . . .

  She leaned up to whisper in his ear. “I know a secret.”

  “What’s that?” Griffin murmured, kissing the curve of her neck with a softness that made her shiver.

  “You’re not as smooth as you pretend to be.”

  He paused, and then a smile danced on his lips. Not wide and charming, but something quieter. Tender. “Don’t tell,” he whispered back, and then there was no time for talking, just hands, and restless mouths, and the feeling that she’d found something solid to hold onto, a true north, at least until dawn.

  15

  Griffin woke with a smile on his face, and a killer backache. Damn, Lila hadn’t been kidding about her mattress. They’d just have to work harder at breaking it in.

  What a shame.

  He rolled over and found her still sleeping beside him. She was curled up in the sheets, her hair fanned across the pillows in a silken tangle, as the early-morning sunlight bathed her in a golden glow.

  She took his breath away.

  It was easy to be dazzled by her in daylight. Hell, he’d been fighting the attraction since the day they met. But at night, alone together, she revealed a glimpse of someone else, a person she kept hidden. Passionate and delicate; brazen and sweet all at once. Griffin thought he’d had her figured out, but was just beginning to realize how much more about her he had to learn.

  How much more he wanted to discover.

  Griffin didn’t want to wake her, so he carefully rolled out of bed and grabbed a bathrobe from the hook on the door. He padded downstairs to the kitchen, barefoot, and set about making coffee with that old-fashioned grinder Lila had set up in the corner. It was a gorgeous spring day outside, and he opened up the back door to drink his coffee in the sunshine on the new patio—with a new friend.

  “Hey there,” Griffin said, leaning down to scratch the placid ginger cat who came to nuzzle at his ankles. “What’s up?”

  The cat purred in response. “Same, buddy,” Griffin agreed. Life was looking pretty good from where he was standing, and so was the garden. With the patio finished, he just had another week or two left to plant the main space . . . Get some young trees and bushes in the ground for shade cover . . . Lay fresh sod for a lush, finished lawn . . . With a couple of months to flower, the space would be a riot of color come summer.

  He heard Lila’s voice from just inside, talking on the phone.

  “When would they need me?” she was asking. “Does he want to shoot in LA, or on location?”

  Griffin paused. He didn’t want to listen in, but he found himself listening, wondering if Lila was already making plans to leave town. The idea brought him back down to earth with a bump. Of course, one night didn’t change anything. They hadn’t talked about what this was, and even if they had, Lila’s life was still waiting—a thousand miles away. But still . . .

  “I don’t know . . .” she continued. “I loved working with him, but . . .” Lila turned and saw him outside.

  Griffin gave an awkward wave, like he hadn’t just been eavesdropping. Lila smiled. “Look, I’ll talk to you later,” she said to whoever was on the other end of the line. “I have to go.”

  She hung up and stepped outside. She was wearing an oversized gray sweatshirt and plaid pajama bottoms, her hair in a messy braid, but to Griffin, she was just as stunning as in that red cocktail gown. “Good morning.” She reached up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Checking on your handiwork?” she teased.

  “It’s coming along,” Griffin replied, sliding his arms around her. “I should be able to get the last of the plants in this week. Once the new sod goes down, it’ll look better, I promise,” he added, knowing the main garden space still looked muddy and bleak.

  “I wasn’t rushing you.”

  “I know. I just want to make the most of this good weather.”

  “Does this mean I can’t tempt you with breakfast?” Lila asked with an inviting smile. And as much as he wanted to linger a while longer, Griffin felt like he was already too close to trouble.

  Any longer with this woman, and he’d want to stay for more than just breakfast.

  “Sorry, I have some errands to run,” Griffin replied, stepping away. “But I’m free tonight, if you want to do something?” he found himself adding, unable to resist.

  Lila rewarded him with a smile. “I’d love to.”

  “Dinner?” he offered. “My place. No interruptions this time, I promise.”

  She laughed. “What are you going to do, barricade the door?”

  “If that’s what it takes,” Griffin vowed. Jordy had taken off yesterday, and with any luck, he was off on another one of his harebrained schemes—out of their way. “Come over anytime, I’ll cook.”

  Lila whistled, and he gave a wry grin. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Grilling a couple of steaks is about all I can manage.”

  “Sounds great to me.”

  She kissed him goodbye, and Griffin headed out. A part of him was already wondering why he didn’t take her up on that offer for breakfast . . . and a lazy morning back in that bed. But that phone call had put him back on guard. As much as Lila said she wanted to put down roots, he didn’t know yet if this was just a passing whim, a brief vacation from her regular life before she waltzed back to the spotlight—and left him in the dust.

  Better to keep things casual. Easy. It had always worked for him in the past. Why ruin a good thing? Griffin decided, but after his regular errands were done, he found himself driving over to Alice’s place with a couple of hydrangea bushes.

  Alice’s mom, Diana, was just on her way out as he arrived. “Griffin!” she exclaimed, leaning in to give him a kiss. “You’re looking well.”

  “You too.” Griffin replied, meaning it. Diana had been seriously ill, which was why Alice had moved back to the Cape in the first place, but her cancer had been in remission for a year now, and Diana was looking like her old self again.

  “I can’t stay,” she said apologetically. “But please, drag my daughter away from work, I beg you.”

  “I’ll try.” Griffin smiled as he tapped on the open door. “Alice
?”

  She emerged from the back room. “To what do I owe the interruption?” Alice asked, looking surprised to find him on her doorstep in the middle of the day.

  “Sorry.” Griffin forgot sometimes that other people kept regular office hours.

  “Are you kidding? I love a good distraction,” Alice replied. “I’m up to my eyeballs in this boundary dispute. And if you think hundred-year-old property rights are boring . . . you’d be right.”

  “I thought I’d drop these by.” Griffin set the pots down in the cluttered hallway. “As a thank you. For setting me up with the Rose Cottage job.”

  “Oh really?” Alice smirked. “How is that going?”

  “Fine.” Griffin gave a casual shrug, but Alice, as usual, saw right through him.

  “Luckily for you, it’s time for my lunch break. You’re buying,” she added, grabbing her jacket.

  “Since when?” Griffin protested lightly.

  “Since you obviously need some advice,” Alice replied. “Just be glad I’m not billing you by the hour.”

  He smiled, and took her to a nearby café for deli sandwiches and chips. She was right. She usually was. And a good friend. “Remind me why you’re single,” Griffin asked, chowing down as Alice stole his pickle.

  She snorted. “Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to ask a woman that?”

  “No, really.” Griffin wipe his mouth, thoughtful. “You haven’t dated since I’ve been back in town.”

  “I haven’t dated since I’ve been back in town,” Alice corrected him. Then she exhaled. “I don’t know . . . When my mom was sick, it was the last thing on my mind,” she said quietly. Griffin winced. He hadn’t meant to bring it up. He knew it had been tough for Alice, nursing her mom through chemo and treatment. “And now . . . I guess I’ve always had something else to focus on,” Alice continued. “Plus, you have to admit, this place isn’t exactly packed with handsome, single men.”

  “No bachelors at the auction caught your eye?” Griffin asked, teasing.

  Alice looked wry. “You mean, aside from all the guys making goo-goo eyes at their beloveds? And don’t think you’re not included in that group,” she added. “I saw the way you and Lila were looking at each other.”

  Griffin coughed.

  “Look at you!” Alice grinned. “You like her.”

  “Hush, you,” Griffin tried to protest, but Alice ignored him.

  “Griffin Forrester, head over heels. And there I was, thinking you’d be an embittered bachelor for the rest of your days. I’m happy for you,” she added. “Envious, but mainly happy. So, does this mean Lila’s sticking around a while longer?”

  “I don’t know.” Griffin paused, remembering that call this morning. “She’s still talking to her people in LA about potential movie roles . . . But that’s OK,” he said, trying to remind himself. “It’s all still casual.”

  Alice laughed. “Sure it is. Keep telling yourself that.”

  Griffin gave her a look. Alice just grinned back. “I’m glad. I like her. And I’m not just saying that out of contractual obligation,” she added. “It’s about time you found someone who can keep you on your toes.”

  “She does that,” Griffin agreed. Never mind his toes, Lila had him feeling like the world had tilted off its axis . . . and what’s more, he kind of liked it.

  “We’ll see . . . It might be nothing,” he added, warning the both of them. “I mean, can you really imagine someone like Lila being happy here?” he asked, nodding to the sleepy café and the off-season town beyond. Before the influx of summer tourists, the streets were half-empty, crisp with the chilled spring breeze. “A vacation is one thing, but settling down for real . . . I don’t see it.”

  “Has she said that?” Alice asked, and Griffin had to shake his head.

  “We haven’t talk about any of that.”

  “Of course you haven’t.” Alice looked amused. “Why have a perfectly reasonable conversation when you could jump to assumptions, instead?”

  “Easy for you to say,” he noted.

  “You’re right, it is,” Alice agreed. “But you’re the one who gets to fall madly in love with the most beautiful woman in the world, so I’d say we’re about even.”

  Griffin chuckled, and quickly changed the subject. Alice was just being dramatic. There was no need to be throwing the L word around. No need at all.

  Right?

  Lila needed a hobby. Something to pass the time, at least. The day dragged by, infinitely slow, and she found herself watching the clock, impatient to make it to their dinner, and the promise of another night with Griffin.

  Another night in his arms . . . his hands . . . his tongue . . .

  She cleaned the cottage from top to bottom, did laundry, and even baked a rich, tempting chocolate cake to take with her for dessert, but somehow, that didn’t fill the afternoon. She was almost tempted to return her agents’ half-dozen messages, just to pass the time.

  Almost.

  Lila sighed, hearing her phone ring again. She was still ducking their calls, ever since they’d heard about her chance meeting with Dash. Apparently, he’d mentioned wanting to work with her again to an interviewer, and now everyone had decided it was the perfect role for her comeback.

  Everyone except Lila, that was.

  She wasn’t sure why she was avoiding the conversation. Maybe because she knew, deep down, she wouldn’t have any good excuses why not to pursue the role. After all, she’d already said that she loved working with Dash, that he was talented, and a great guy. He made great movies, and this one would have Oscar-bait written all over it. It should have been her dream return to the spotlight, her way to show everyone in Hollywood she wasn’t licking her wounds; she’d moved on from scandal and was bigger than ever.

  But every time Lila even thought about picking up the phone, something inside her held back. She wasn’t ready to think about that life, not yet, so she just kept sending the calls to voicemail and pretending like the real world wasn’t still waiting outside Sweetbriar Cove.

  She clicked to send it to voicemail, and grabbed her coat instead. But she was still a half hour early when she pulled up outside Griffin’s old barn for their date.

  She lingered in the car. Talk about too eager! She was used to playing it cool, sauntering in five or ten minutes late and making her dates wait, but here she was, like a panting puppy, craving his kisses all over again.

  Lila exhaled, meeting her own gaze in the rearview mirror. She’d had her share of relationships. Even before the ill-fated engagement with Justin, she’d dated around: a year with that bartender who broke her heart at 22, her co-star actor on a movie who’d run hot and cold. She’d had men lined up to escort her to the latest hot restaurant or award show, but somehow, none of them seemed to have gotten under her skin the way this scruffy, charming gardener had, with his flint-blue eyes and that smile that took her breath away. She didn’t know what it meant, or where this was going, she just knew she wanted more.

  A tap on her window made Lila yelp.

  “Sorry,” Griffin laughed, as she scrambled out of the car. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I’m fine!” Lila blurted, her heart racing. From the shock, or the sight of Griffin in a dusty denim shirt, rolled up to reveal his tanned, muscular forearms, she wasn’t sure.

  “We did say six, right?” Griffin asked. “Sorry, I’m still a mess. I must have lost track of time. I’ll go jump in the shower.”

  “No, I’m the early one.” Lila gulped as the visual slipped into her mind. Griffin . . . hot water . . . naked. “I’m sorry I interrupted . . . whatever you were doing.”

  He had dirt under his fingernails and mud on his boots, and Lila only needed one guess to figure he’d been in the garden.

  “You want to see?” he asked, beckoning her around the back of the barn.

  “Sure.”

  She followed him around to the sprawling back yard. Just as Griffin had told her, the space was unfinished, with muddy gr
assland and weeds growing wild. But up along the fence line, there were a series of glass-paned greenhouses: brand new and immaculate.

  Griffin led her inside one of them, which was warm and filled to bursting with different rose varieties. Lila felt as if she’d just stepped into a glorious florist store, surrounded with color and sweet, heady scent. “The greenhouse lets me control the temperature,” he explained. “So, I can grow from seed year-round, without the frost getting to them. I have all kinds of exotic plants for my clients—orchids, gardenias, even citrus trees, but roses are kind of my hobby. Well, obsession,” he added wryly. “Depending on who you ask.”

  Lila looked around, fascinated. “These are beautiful!” she exclaimed, leaning in to sniff the scent of some luscious peach-colored roses, billowing in full bloom. “What are they called?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.” Griffin looked bashful.

  “What do you mean?” Lila glanced up.

  “They’re a new breed. I grew them from scratch.”

  “Wait, what?” Lila looked around. The greenhouse was full of a dozen different kind of roses, from pink to delicate peach to full-on sunset-hued wonders. “You made them. You can do that?” she asked in disbelief.

  Griffin smiled. “With some patience, and luck, yes.”

  “But, how?” Lila asked, amazed. “I thought everything had to grow from seed.”

  Griffin laughed. “Yes. But you can breed new varieties together, cross-pollinate so you make new varieties of seed.”

  Lila was tickled. “So, you’re playing God, is what you’re saying.”

  Griffin gave a smirk. “I mean, if you want to call me that . . .”

  She laughed. “Show me. I mean, where do you even begin?”

  Griffin paused, looking unsure. “You really want to know?”

  “Are you kidding?” Lila exclaimed. “Yes! Can you make them any colors you want? What about the fragrance?” She looked eagerly around.