Second Chance In Stonecreek

by Michelle Major

  “You still should have—”

  “No.”

  They both turned as Maggie walked into the entry. She’d changed from the conservative suit she’d worn at the debate to a pair of black sweatpants and a University of Oregon T-shirt. Her face had been scrubbed of makeup, which only made her more beautiful to Griffin. Yet he couldn’t stand the shadows under her eyes or the defeated slump of her shoulders.

  “Griffin tried to convince me to tell people the truth. I know he pushed Trevor for the same thing.” Her brow furrowed as she looked at her father, like she could will him to understand. “It was my choice and he respected it.”

  “I still don’t understand,” her dad said, throwing up his hands. “Trevor was a snake. You let him get away with it.”

  She winced and Griffin wanted to step between the two of them to shield Maggie from any more recrimination.

  “Maybe,” she admitted softly, “I was embarrassed. The choice was to be the runaway bride or the woman who couldn’t keep her fiancé’s attention, even on her wedding day. That option was too pathetic, Dad.”

  “You aren’t pathetic,” Jim said, enveloping her in a tight hug. “I have half a mind to drive out to the vineyard and kick Trevor’s butt into next week.”

  “I think Mom’s taking care of that,” Griffin offered. “She was pretty mad.”

  Jim looked over his shoulder. “Your mother is a good woman.”

  “The best,” Griffin agreed.

  “Dad, I’m going to talk to Griffin for a few minutes,” Maggie said, stepping away.

  “You don’t have to,” her father told her. “You don’t owe anyone with the last name Stone another minute of your time.”

  Griffin wanted to protest but Jim was right.

  Maggie lifted a hand and pressed her palm to her dad’s cheek. “Ben needs help with his science lab,” she said gently.

  “I’m useless at science,” her dad said with an eye roll.

  “He’s coloring a cell diagram.”

  Jim perked up. “Coloring I’m good at. I’ll get the oil pastels.”

  “That might be a little much for eighth-grade science.”

  “Then Ben should love it.”

  “Can I come in?” Griffin asked Maggie when they were finally alone.

  She blinked as if she hadn’t realized he was still standing on the front porch. “Of course. Sorry. Dad should have invited you in from the start.”

  “He was in full-stop protective mode.” Griffin shut the front door behind him.

  She smiled, clearly trying to make it bright, but Griffin could see a painful tightness compress the edges of her mouth. “Was that your first town meeting?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “You picked a good one. Your cousin and I put on quite a performance.”

  “Don’t do that,” he whispered. “You don’t need to play it off with me.”

  He reached for her but she shrugged away, shaking her head. “I don’t know if I’m in a place where I can let you touch me.”

  His chest ached at the raw honesty of that admission. “I’m sorry my cousin is a goading jerk.”

  “I didn’t mean to announce Trevor’s cheating to the whole town.” She ran a hand through her hair, tugging on the ends. “Did you talk to him?”

  Griffin nodded.

  “Is he mad?”

  “Do you care?”

  “I do.”

  The two words she would have said on her wedding day if his brother hadn’t cheated. “Why?” he couldn’t help but ask.

  “I never wanted to hurt Trevor.”

  “After what he did to you...”

  “Even so. I promised I’d keep his betrayal a secret, and I broke my word.”

  “Jason pushed you to it.” Griffin moved past her, gripped the handrail of the staircase that led to the second floor. “I went to his house tonight, too. Big wimp wouldn’t come to the door. All the lights went out while I was standing on the porch, like I was supposed to believe he suddenly wasn’t at home.”

  “Do you blame him?” Maggie asked, and he heard a sad kind of amusement in her voice.

  “I blame him for most of this,” Griffin said, turning around to face her. “If he wants to run against you as mayor, have at it. But to try to win the election by assassinating your character is low. He always was a loser.”

  “I shouldn’t have let him bait me.”

  “Stop doing that. Stop taking the blame when other people are awful. This wasn’t your fault. Calling off the wedding wasn’t your fault.” He paused, then added softly, “The things that went wrong between us definitely weren’t your fault.”

  “You never answered me about Trevor.”

  He sighed. “He’s not mad at you. I imagine he’s not loving the tongue lashing he’s getting from Mom, but he seemed almost resolved to the truth being out there.”

  “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

  “Talk to me right now.”

  Her head tilted as she studied at him. “Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

  “You’re standing a few feet from the front door,” he reminded her. “I keep waiting for you to kick me out.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re here,” she told him, which wasn’t exactly an invitation to stay.

  “I hate what happened to you tonight. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m okay,” she whispered.

  “Let me in, Maggie May,” he coaxed. “I probably don’t deserve another chance, but give me one anyway.”

  She closed her eyes and drew in a long breath, then blew it out. “I’m binge watching Gilmore Girls on Netflix,” she told him when she opened her eyes again. “I needed a distraction.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I could Netflix and chill tonight.”

  She laughed, rolling her eyes. “How do you feel about Netflix and sitting on the couch with my dad in his bedroom down the hall?”

  “That works, too.” He would have agreed to anything to be near her tonight.

  He followed her down the hall and into the cozy family room off the kitchen. Jim, Morgan and Ben were nowhere to be seen and Griffin wondered if Maggie’s dad was purposely giving them time alone. If so, it was the most outright vote of confidence Griffin could have asked for given Jim’s earlier attitude.

  She lowered herself onto the couch, glancing up at him almost warily before patting the cushion next to her. “Are you sure about this? I’m not great company right now, and it isn’t going to be sexy times. I can’t even promise to be able to string together a decent sentence.”

  “Any sentence that includes the phrase ‘sexy times,’” he said, sitting down, his leg grazing hers, “is way better than decent.”

  She laughed again and seemed to relax. She hit a button on the remote control and he leaned back against the sofa and watched the fictional lives of people who talked way too fast in a town called Stars Hollow. As far as he was concerned, Stonecreek could give the show a run for its money as far as nosy neighbors and everyone knowing everyone else’s business.

  “Don’t let Jason or tonight derail you,” he said after a few minutes.

  Maggie glanced up at him. “How can I not?”

  “You’re strong.” He put an arm around her, gathering her close, profoundly grateful that she was letting him into her life again. She was vulnerable tonight, which might have something to do with it. Maybe tomorrow her guard would be up again. Hard to say. But he’d take this and anything else she was willing to give. “Stronger than you give yourself credit for, and you’re dedicated to the town.”

  “I wish it were that simple,” she said with a sigh, leaning her head against his shoulder. He could smell her shampoo, and the warmth of her pressed against him made him want more. Want everything. But he tamped down his desire, because what Maggie n
eeded tonight was a friend. Griffin wanted to be that for her.

  “It is,” he promised. “We’re adding complicated to our banned list of words.”

  “We have a list?”

  “Sorry is the only word on it so far, but it’s a list. No apologies and no using complications as an excuse anymore.”

  “I like that,” she whispered with a yawn.

  I like you, he wanted to tell her but those three words seemed too simple to describe his feelings for Maggie. And he’d just banned complicated. Where did that leave him?

  As always, thoughts of the future made panic swell in his gut, so he buried them. Instead he focused on the feel of her in his arms. He brushed his fingers against her arm and she lifted a hand to his chest. His heartbeat sped under her touch, but this time it wasn’t from lust. It was the odd sense of contentment of this moment, the satisfaction of being there for her when she needed someone.

  Of how much he liked being that someone for her.

  A few minutes later her breathing softened, becoming rhythmic in a way that made him know she’d fallen asleep. Griffin watched another episode of the show, finding himself craving a cup of coffee and a cheeseburger.

  Finally he lifted Maggie into his arms and carried her upstairs. She snuggled against him but didn’t wake as he pulled back the sheets on her bed and lowered her to the mattress. He tucked the covers around her, kissed her cheek and walked out of the room.

  To his surprise, her dad was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I wanted to make sure I didn’t have to kick you out of the house,” he said groggily, rubbing a hand across his eyes.

  “No, sir,” Griffin told him. “I just thought she’d sleep better in her bed than on the couch.”

  Jim nodded. “She had to grow up too fast after her mom died. Maggie’s used to taking care of everyone else. It’s not easy for her to lean on someone.”

  “I get that.”

  “It means something,” Jim continued, stifling a yawn, “that she let you in tonight.”

  Griffin nodded, not sure how else to respond.

  “Don’t mess it up again,” the older man told him simply.

  “I’m going to try my best,” Griffin promised.

  Jim studied him for a long moment and then nodded. “You turned out all right, Griffin.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Griffin let himself out the front door, inhaling the crisp night air. For months he hadn’t been able to shed the massive weight on his chest. But it suddenly vanished. He drove back to the vineyard and his room above the barn and slept better than he had in ages.

  * * *

  “You don’t have to come out here with me,” Maggie said, glancing at her sister as they drove toward Harvest Vineyards on Wednesday afternoon.

  “What if Mrs. Stone is mean to you?” Morgan demanded, fiddling with the seat belt strap. “Everyone in town is talking about Trevor being a cheater. That can’t make her happy.”

  “She’s not going to be mean,” Maggie said, although she wasn’t exactly confident about Jana’s reaction to the new revelation. Griffin had said his mom was angry with Trevor, who definitely deserved it. But it had been Maggie’s choice to take the blame. She saw how wrong that was now, allowing her shame to manifest into a lie. “But I’m glad you’re here. I want to spend more time with you.”

  Morgan gave a harsh laugh. “That should be easy since I’m grounded forever.”

  “Not forever,” Maggie countered, turning up the winding drive. “How are things going with your friends?”

  “What friends?” Morgan demanded. “I can’t even text, so how am I supposed to have friends?”

  “You’re at school every day.”

  That earned an exaggerated eye roll. “Jocelyn and her crew don’t exactly spend much time at school.”

  “Seriously?” Maggie blew out a breath. “I don’t understand why you picked that group, Mo.”

  “It was easy,” her sister admitted. “They seemed fun and cool and they let me in.”

  “Do you still feel that way?”

  Morgan shrugged. “I take the SAT in a few weeks. I actually care about college, unlike most of them.”

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear it.”

  “Yeah, I know. You’ve been worried, but I’m okay, Maggie. I will be.”

  Maggie wanted to trust her sister. She loved Morgan and her independent spirit, even when it led to questionable behavior.

  “Do you think Dad will unground me to go to the homecoming dance?”

  “Has someone asked you?”

  “No,” Morgan muttered. “But if that doesn’t happen, I could go with friends.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “I’m not talking about Jocelyn,” Morgan interrupted. “There’s a group of yearbook staff girls who are talking about going together. They don’t get into trouble. You were probably one of them in high school.”

  “I did my time on the yearbook staff,” Maggie admitted.

  “Would you talk to Dad? Make a case for me?”

  Maggie pulled the car to a stop in front of the tasting room and looked over at her sister. “It’s hard for me to trust you. I want to but—”

  “I promise, Maggie.” Morgan’s voice was pleading. “I’m trying to make friends with better kids but it’s hard when I can’t do anything.”

  “Fine. I’ll talk to Dad.”

  Morgan unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over the console for a hug. “You’re the best, Mags. Don’t pay attention to any of the haters around here, and definitely not Grammy. You do your own thing. It’s what Mom would want.”

  Tears sprang to Maggie’s eyes and she blinked them away. “You do your own thing, too, Mo-Mo. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re not enough just the way you are.” She ruffled her sister’s hair, which Morgan had let fade from dyed blue back to her natural caramel color. “Especially Grammy.”

  They climbed out of the car and Morgan drew in a sharp breath as she looked at the restored tasting room building. “I’m still so embarrassed.”

  “The space is better than ever,” Maggie assured her. “I think you helping with gala preparations will mean a lot to Jana.”

  Morgan made a noncommittal noise low in her throat.

  “Plus it will help me sell the ungrounding to Dad.” Maggie gave her sister an encouraging nod. “You’re facing your mistakes and trying to turn things around.” She draped an arm over Morgan’s shoulders and led her forward. “We might be shopping for homecoming dresses in the very near future.”

  “What about you?” Morgan asked suddenly.

  “You want me to chaperone?” Maggie grinned. “I’d be—”

  “No way. I’m talking about the reunion dance. Isn’t this your ten-year mark?”

  Maggie dropped her arm. “Yes,” she agreed slowly.

  “I thought the old-school dance was a big deal for you this year.”

  “Um...I guess.” Maggie tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. Morgan was right in theory. Each year Stonecreek High School held an alumni reunion dance the night before the homecoming football game. The event was a fund-raiser for the school and had become popular with graduates who’d stayed local or were returning for the homecoming festivities. The classes with milestone reunions made the dance the cornerstone of their celebration. “I’ve never gone before and wasn’t planning on it this year, either.”

  “But you have to,” Morgan argued.

  Maggie laughed, trying for airy, but the sound came out more like a croak. “I didn’t go to one homecoming dance in high school,” she reminded her sister. “Dancing really isn’t my thing.”

  The truth was she’d never been asked and hadn’t had a group of girlfriends going without dates to join. She hadn’t exactly been a social butterfly in high sch
ool. Between schoolwork, watching over a younger Morgan and Ben, and the community projects her grandmother had pushed her to volunteer for, Maggie had been way too busy for a normal teenage life. She’d wanted one, but she’d also been quiet and studious. Most of her classmates had labeled her a snob or too good for them, even though she’d never felt that way.

  She’d come out of her shell during college and hoped she’d changed the town’s perception of her once she’d returned to Stonecreek, despite what Jason said. But there was something about the high school, and the reunion dance in particular, that brought back all of her old insecurities.

  “I bet Jason Stone will be there,” Morgan said, eyes narrowed, “probably schmoozing with everyone and acting like he’s so great.”

  Maggie pressed her fingers to her chest, which suddenly felt tight.

  “Then he better not let anyone see him dance.”

  Maggie whirled around to find Griffin standing behind them, a smile tugging one corner of his mouth.

  “Jason can’t dance?” Morgan asked, grinning.

  “Not unless he’s taken lessons since his sister’s wedding. She got hitched a few years ago in Portland. Jason looked like an uncoordinated Tasmanian devil when he hit the dance floor.”

  “Maggie can dance,” Morgan offered. “Grammy made her take ballet classes back in the day.”

  “Not the same kind of dancing,” Maggie muttered.

  Morgan crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve seen you dance. You have a surprising amount of rhythm for such a dork.”

  “I’m not a dork.”

  Griffin laughed. “Let’s see those ‘moves like Jagger,’ Maggie May.” When she only glared, he laughed harder. “Or are they moves like jaguar?” He growled and made clawing motions with his hands.

  “You’re a bigger dork than she is,” Morgan said, pointing at Griffin.

  “I’m wearing a tool belt,” he pointed out, jiggling the leather encircling his waist. “I can’t be considered a dork if I have a tool belt. There’s some kind of rule.”

  “It’s pretty hot.”

  “Eww,” Morgan said, nudging her arm. “TMI for sure, Mags.”