"Beautiful, too. You got something going on there?"
"Trying not to," he muttered.
"Interesting. Good luck with that."
"Thanks."
He set the phone down on the counter, happy that Megan's case was heading to a finish. He broke some eggs into a bowl and whipped them with a little water. Then he pulled out a frying pan and set it on the stove. As he turned the knob to light the burner, it clicked, but no flame appeared. He tried the next burner, but the same thing happened.
"Morning," Vinnie said, as he came into the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a hook by the door.
"Hey, these burners aren't working."
"I know. The stove has been acting up. I've had someone out to look at it, but they couldn't fix it. We might need to spring for a new one."
"Hopefully, not until after Christmas."
"Use a match to light it," Vinnie said, opening a drawer and tossing him a matchbook. "I didn't see you come back last night."
"It was late. I went straight upstairs."
Vinnie gave him a speculative look. "Anything you want to share?"
He opened the matchbook, then paused. It wasn't one of their cream-colored books with the Depot logo on it. This matchbook was bright red with gold coins falling into a pile of money, the words Gold Mine written across the front. His heart skipped a beat, and his body tightened. "Where did this come from?"
"What?" Vinnie gave him a confused look.
He held up the matchbook. "It's from a bar in Chicago called the Gold Mine."
Vinnie's gaze met his. "You been there?"
"More than once. But I never brought back a matchbook. How did it get into our drawer?"
"A customer must have left it behind."
His gut tightened. Was it just a coincidence? It didn't feel like it."
"Griffin?"
"It's fine." He pulled out a match, turned on the gas, and lit the stove. Then he put the matchbook into his pocket.
"You sure?"
"Forget about it."
"If you say so. I'm going to start prepping for lunch."
He nodded, tossing his egg mixture into the pan. As he cooked his breakfast, his thoughts went back in time to an old bar in downtown Chicago. It was the kind of bar where the locals went, not the tourists. It was a hole in the wall. The drinks were cheap. The food was greasy. But the music was great, and on the weekends the place was packed.
He told himself it was just a coincidence that the matchbook had shown up in his bar. Only problem was—he had never believed in coincidences.
* * *
Annie spent Wednesday working on the design for the Depot's holiday fundraiser. By late afternoon, she thought she had it just right, and she was eager to show Griffin, but first she had a class to teach.
On her way to the community college, she gave Griffin a call. She'd probably spent as much time thinking about him as she had about her design. But today she was only going to talk about art. Everything else was just too complicated.
"Hello?" Griffin said.
And just like that, his husky voice sent shivers down her spine. "Hi, it's Annie."
"Everything all right?"
"Yes. I think I have a design you'll like. Actually, I have two, and you can choose which one you prefer. Hopefully, one of them will work."
"When can I see them?"
"I'm on my way to teach my class right now, but I was thinking I could drop by the bar afterward, or if you want to come by my apartment later, that would work, too."
He hesitated for a minute. "What time does your class end?"
"Six."
"Why don't I take you out for dinner? There's a great Mexican place down the street from the college."
She was surprised by his words but also excited by the invitation. "If you're talking about Juan Delgado's, I'm in. I've only been there once, and I've been dying to go back. But there's one problem; I don't have the designs with me."
"No problem. We'll eat and then go back to your apartment."
"Okay," she said, her mind already racing ahead to what might happen at her apartment once they were alone again.
"I'll see you at the restaurant."
"See you then." She ended her call and turned into the faculty parking lot, feeling a little more excited than she should. Griffin was just taking her to dinner to thank her for working on the designs for free. But even if it was nothing more than that, she was really looking forward to seeing him again. She knew she needed to be careful. Griffin had the potential to break her heart. She shouldn't let him get close enough to do that.
* * *
Two hours later, Annie walked into the Mexican restaurant a little past six. Griffin was already there. He was talking to the hostess, an attractive young blonde, who was gazing at Griffin like he was a god, reminding Annie that the man probably had more than his fair share of women.
"I'm here," she said.
He turned and gave her a smile that surprised her with its warmth. She was never quite sure what kind of welcome she was going to get from Griffin, but tonight was starting on a good note.
"Follow me," the hostess said, looking disappointed by Annie's appearance.
As they sat down, a busboy dropped off chips and salsa, immediately followed by a smiling blonde waitress, who asked them what they'd like to drink.
"I'd love a margarita," Annie said. "Blended, no salt."
"Same," Griffin added.
"I'll get your drinks and give you a minute to look at the menu," the waitress said.
"So, what's good?" Griffin asked, as the waitress left.
"Last time I was here, I had a chicken enchilada. It comes in a bowl with rice and beans underneath, and it's basically out of this world. Oh, and did I mention the guacamole that comes with it? To die for."
He smiled again. "Sold. Maybe you should be in sales instead of art. You're very persuasive."
"I might be able to talk you into an enchilada, but I'm not sure about anything else."
"How was your class?"
"It was fine. Tonight's class was the last one of this semester. The students have all next week to work on their final project, and I think they were eager to get on with it."
"And Justin is in this class?"
"Yes, but he wasn't there. I was surprised. He hasn't missed a class until now, and we did go over tips for the final. Is he working?"
"He's supposed to be. I left before he would have checked in for his shift, though."
She dipped a chip into some salsa and popped it into her mouth. The heat ran through her like a freight train, and she reached quickly for her water glass. "That's hot," she said a moment later. "But really good."
He tried the salsa. "Not bad. And not that hot."
"Always the tough guy. So, have you heard from Megan or Paul?"
"Yes. Paul told me the trial got moved up, so hopefully Megan will be able to testify and move on with her life by next week."
"Oh, that would be great. She was in such despair when I spoke to her. It was hard to see her like that."
"It's almost over."
She sat back as the waitress came over. After ordering, she said, "What did you do today?"
"I caught up on some paperwork, dealt with vendors, inventory, the usual."
"I asked you last night if you'd always worked in a bar, but you didn't answer. In fact, I think you changed the subject."
"Did I? I don't remember."
"Well, tell me now."
"I helped out in my grandfather's bar when I was in my late teens, not that I could serve alcohol, but I bussed tables and served food, and I always liked hanging out there."
She was surprised he'd actually told her something personal. "You followed in his footsteps."
"In a way. It took me a long time to do it."
"What other jobs have you had?"
"Random stuff."
"Like?"
"Sales."
"Selling…" she pressed, feeli
ng like she was always playing twenty questions with Griffin.
"Surfboards, bicycles, electronics—whatever."
She gave a sigh of exasperation. "You're so damn vague, Griffin."
"My life isn't that exciting, Annie. I met Vinnie a couple years back and we talked about how he always wanted to be a chef, and I'd thought about running a bar, and eventually our talking turned into action. We had the opportunity to rent the Depot for a good price. The owners didn't care what we did with it, as long as we improved the property, which we did, and customers started to come pretty quickly. We got some regulars and they told their friends."
"I'm starting to feel like a regular," she said with a laugh.
"You have been there a lot this week."
"In my defense, I don't know a lot of people in this town, and the bar makes me feel like I'm part of something, too, which I'm sure is what you were going for, so you should be happy I keep coming back."
"You're starting to grow on me."
"Hopefully, not like a bad mole."
He grinned. "Much prettier than that."
She smiled back at him as the waitress brought their food. So far, dinner was going pretty well.
An hour later, she was feeling even better about the evening. Not only had the enchiladas been as good as she remembered, but conversation had been as easy as it had ever been. Griffin dropped a few nuggets here and there about his interests in running and biking. It wasn't surprising that those activities were also fairly isolating. It didn't seem in his nature to be part of a team, although he seemed like he would be a good team player if he wanted to be. His staff at the Depot seemed to respect him and like him.
She wondered about the women in his life. He was too handsome and sexy not to have had a girlfriend, but she hadn't broached the topic, because part of her didn't want to hear about any other women. She also didn't want to make things awkward by digging too deep into his life. Baby steps, she kept telling herself, wondering if there would come a time when Griffin would really trust her.
After dinner, they made their way out to the street, and once again Griffin followed her back to her apartment so he could see the designs she'd come up with. She was happy to keep the evening going and a little nervous and excited about being alone with him.
When they got to her building, she pulled into the garage, while Griffin searched for a spot on the street. Luckily, he managed to find one not too far away. She waited for him on the sidewalk and then they headed toward the front door.
They were almost there when a man came through the side gate.
His sudden appearance was startling. The light from the man's phone flashed in her eyes, blinding her for a second.
Griffin pushed her aside, grabbed the guy by both arms and shoved him up against the side of the building with lightning-fast moves.
"What the—" the man swore.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Griffin demanded.
"Get your hands off me," the man yelled, kicking out at Griffin.
Suddenly, their fists were flying. She didn't know what to do, how to help. And there was something about the man, his voice, that was very familiar…
Eleven
As the moonlight captured the man's features, Annie shouted, "Stop!" When neither one listened to her, she yelled louder. "Stop!" She grabbed Griffin's arm before he could land another punch. "I know him."
Griffin stared at her in surprise. "You know him?"
"Yes, I do. This is my brother Hunter." She looked back at her brother. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to check up on you," Hunter said, adjusting his jacket, his eyes burning with anger. "Who's this guy, Annie?"
"Griffin Hale—Hunter Callaway," she said, introducing the two men.
"Why did you come at me like that?" Hunter demanded.
"I thought you were going after Annie," Griffin replied. "You came out of the shadows."
"I went around back to check out the view while I was waiting for her to come home," Hunter said, rubbing the side of his jaw where Griffin's fist had connected. "And why would anyone be going after my sister?"
That was a loaded question and one she didn't really want Griffin to answer. She had three older brothers, all very protective, and while Hunter might be the most free-spirited of the bunch, he didn't shirk his brotherly responsibilities.
"It's dark. You surprised us," she said before Griffin could answer. "Let's go upstairs."
She opened the door and led the way up to her apartment, happy that the scuffle hadn't brought out any of her neighbors. When she ushered them into the living room, she got a better look at both men, and she could see bruising on both of their faces.
"I'll get ice," she said practically.
"I'm fine," they chorused together.
She sighed. "Two tough guys—got it. I'm sorry you got hurt, Hunter. I had no idea you were coming here. Why didn't you text me?"
"I wanted to surprise you." Hunter brushed a strand of brown hair away from his face. He had a three-day growth of beard on his face, and she thought he looked tired. "Who is this guy?" He glared again at Griffin. "Is he your boyfriend?"
"No. He's a friend. He was just protecting me, Hunter. I'm sorry you got hurt."
"And neither of you has told me why you need protection," he said.
"I was acting on instinct," Griffin said, thankfully picking up on her desire not to tell her brother about Megan or almost being run down the previous day. "I'm going to take off, Annie. I'll let you catch up with your brother."
"What about the designs?"
"Can you bring them by the bar tomorrow?"
"Of course." She walked him to the door and followed him into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her so that her brother couldn't hear them. "Griffin, wait. I'm sorry you got hurt."
"It's not a big deal."
"I appreciate the way you protected me. And it was a fun evening…until the last few minutes. I wish things hadn't ended up the way they did," she said, giving him a wistful smile.
"It was fun," he agreed. "You should get back to your brother."
"Thanks for not saying anything about Megan and…you know. I don't want my family to worry."
"I figured. I'll see you tomorrow."
"What time is good?"
"I'm going to be out in the morning. Maybe around noon. Would that work?"
"Sure." There were things she wanted to say, but Griffin seemed uninterested in more conversation right now. She could hardly blame him. "I'll see you then."
Griffin turned and walked down the hall. She watched him until he was out of sight and then went back into her apartment. Hunter had grabbed a soda out of the fridge and was working his way through a bag of pretzels while he leaned against the kitchen counter.
"So, what are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought you were still on your road trip."
"I am. I've been in Mexico the last two weeks, and decided I'd stop in to see you on my way up the coast."
"It is good to see you, but I think your face is swelling up. Are you sure you don't want some ice?"
"Not the first fist I've taken this trip," he muttered.
Her gaze narrowed. "I don't think I like the sound of that."
"That guy knows how to fight. Who is he? What's his deal?"
"He's a friend. He saved me from a shark attack last week."
Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Wait? What?"
"I guess you have been out of touch. I was in the ocean when some sharks got really close. Griffin was surfing. He rescued me."
"And he's still rescuing you," Hunter said speculatively. "That guy got the jump on me really fast. It didn't feel like it was the first time he'd done that."
It hadn't felt like that to her, either. "I don't know what to say. He runs a bar. I guess he's used to dealing with potential trouble in a fast way."
"Something else is going on," Hunter said. "Are you really going to make me grill you, Annie?"
She sighed. "If I tell yo
u, will it stay between us? Because it's bad enough that the family is still reeling from my shark attack. I don't want them to start worrying again."
"What would they be worrying about?"
"First you have to promise."
"Fine, I promise."
"Yesterday, I was talking to a woman outside Griffin's bar when a car came out of nowhere and almost ran us both down. This woman has a troubled past," she said vaguely. "I didn't know that at the time, but apparently someone tracked her down who wanted to hurt her. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"You seem to be making a habit of that. Did the woman get hurt?"
"No. I was the one with lightning-fast reflexes yesterday. I shoved her out of the way. The woman is being protected and is no longer in this city. It's all good now. I'm not in danger, but I think both Griffin and I were a little on edge after what happened yesterday. That's why he jumped on you so fast."
"Are you sure you're not in danger?"
"I was never the target, just an unlucky bystander."
"Damn, Annie, trouble follows you around, doesn't it?"
"Enough about me. What is going on with you? Are you still filled with wanderlust? Or are you ready to go home now?"
"I'll be home for Christmas, but I'm not planning to put down roots any time soon."
"Where will you go next?"
"I'm thinking about heading east, taking the southern route to avoid the winter snow and stopping wherever looks interesting."
While she loved to travel, she'd never been inspired to just drop out of life and head off on her own for months on end. The family had been speculating for months that Hunter's wanderlust was fueled by something he wasn't talking about, but so far no one had come up with any solid motivation beyond his desire to just do something different for a while. Hunter had been a firefighter since his early twenties, and he was thirty now.
"Is this about your thirtieth birthday?" she asked. "Are you having some sort of early mid-life crisis?"
"No crisis. I just feel like seeing the world while I'm young enough to enjoy it."
"You'll be young enough to enjoy it for a few more decades, Hunter. You know, we have bets on why you really took a leave of absence from the department."
Cant Let Go GO PL Page 11
