"Really? What are the bets?"
"Dylan thinks you got spooked on that fire last year when the woman you tried to rescue didn't make it."
"That's not it."
"Ian said you probably ran up some gambling debts and had to leave town to avoid getting your legs broken."
"Nice vote of confidence from my brother."
"Kate suggested you slept with a married woman whose husband threatened to kill you if you didn't leave town."
"Another nod to my brilliance."
"And Mia thinks you're lonely because everyone else is getting married and you don't have a girlfriend."
"That's pathetic. What do you think?"
She considered his question. "I think you're either looking for something or running away from something. I'm not sure which. Want to clear it up for me?"
"I just like to travel."
"Liar."
"What about you? Last I heard you were jobless, homeless, and had no-one to spend your birthday with."
"Thanks for making me sound pathetic. Look, I might not have a job, but I have a sweet deal on this place, and I have friends who just aren't particularly close to me at this point, but it's fine. I don't need a birthday party. And I'm okay with my life. I'm interviewing for a new job on Friday and I'm teaching, freelancing on some art projects. It's all good."
"And the bar guy? You're into him, aren't you?" Hunter gave her a knowing look.
"Maybe. But it's new, so we'll see. It probably didn't help that you gave him a black eye."
"He came at me first. I was just defending myself."
"Next time, call and give me a heads-up."
"I will. Can I crash here tonight? I'm tired."
"You look like you haven't slept in a week. What exactly were you doing in Mexico?"
"Drinking a lot of tequila."
She didn't believe him for a second. Not that Hunter couldn't party with the best of them, but there was something off, and she just didn't know what it was. "I'm really tired of men who don't want to share. What is it with you guys? Why does everything have to be a secret?"
"We're not talking about me anymore, are we? There's something about that guy that's bugging you."
"He just doesn't like to talk about himself, but then neither do you."
"All I can say is trust your instincts. If you think something is off, don't dismiss it. Figure it out before you get in any deeper."
"That's surprisingly good advice."
He laughed. "Do you have any food besides these pretzels?"
"I can scramble you some eggs."
"You're now my favorite sister."
"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you should take a shower while I'm cooking. You smell kind of ripe."
"Good idea."
As Hunter went into the bedroom, she frowned, feeling more than a little concerned about him. She hoped that it was just fatigue and too much tequila that had put him in this state, but she didn't really think that was it.
* * *
Hunter was gone when Annie got up on Thursday morning, leaving her a scrawled thanks for everything on the back of a take-out menu. She didn't know why he'd taken off so early, but it was just as well. She wanted to take her designs over to the Depot and then she needed to spend the rest of the day working on her pitch for her job interview tomorrow.
After a quick breakfast on the deck, where she spent too much time looking for Griffin out on the waves, she took another look at the two designs for the holiday party and did a bit more tweaking. After finishing that, she still had an hour before she needed to leave for the Depot, and Hunter's words from the night before kept going around in her head: Trust your instincts. If you think something is off, don't dismiss it. Figure it out before you get in any deeper.
She didn't normally stalk guys, preferring to make her own judgment after she met them, but maybe she should find out what the Internet knew about Griffin Hale.
Grabbing her computer, she entered his name into the search engine.
The first few results were for a professional golfer named Griffin Hale, who was at least ten years older than her Griffin and thirty pounds heavier. She dug a little deeper, checking out various social media sites, but there was no sign of Griffin. When she put in the Depot, the owner of the business came up as Barrel Enterprises. She searched on the company but couldn't find any names. Maybe Griffin and Vinnie were Barrel Enterprises, but if they were, they'd done a good job of hiding their personal stake in the company.
Frowning, her uneasiness growing, she spent another thirty minutes putting in search terms, but the only photos she could find were of the Depot and its customers. Although, there was the photo of her and Griffin after the shark attack, but his name had not been mentioned in the caption.
She probably shouldn't be surprised she couldn't find anything about him on the Internet. He definitely guarded his privacy. And she doubted he ever spent time on social media. But as she closed her computer, she couldn't shake the gut feeling that something was off.
Her heart told her that Griffin was a good guy. She'd seen his protective side. She'd watched him with Megan and with Vinnie. People liked him. She liked him. But he was hiding something, and until she knew what it was, she needed to be careful.
Despite that promise to herself, she couldn't help the excited feeling that ran through her when she got to the bar just before noon. Lunch was in full swing, almost every table taken. She was surprised to see Justin there. She thought he generally worked nights.
"Hey, what happened to you in class yesterday?" she asked, as he came over, a sheepish smile on his face.
"I had problems with my car, and then I missed the bus. Sorry. I got the notes from a friend. I'll be working on my final project starting this weekend."
"That's good. Is Griffin around? I have my initial design drafts for him to look at."
"He's in his apartment. Why don't you go on up?"
She hesitated, not sure she should invade his personal space. On the other hand, she wouldn't mind seeing where he actually lived, and it wasn't like he didn't know she was coming by.
As she climbed the stairs and passed by Megan's closed door, she was reminded of the last time she'd been upstairs. Hopefully, there would not be as much drama this time around.
She knocked on Griffin's door, taking a deep breath as she heard footsteps. She felt nervous, excited, and wary all at the same time.
Griffin opened the door and her smile faded when she saw the dark-purple bruise around his left eye. "Oh, my God, your face. It's so much worse than I thought."
He put a few fingers to his eye. "It doesn't feel as bad as it looks. Your brother packs a good punch."
"Hunter was the youngest of my three brothers; he had a lot of practice fighting with them. I feel awful about this."
"I told you last night it wasn't your fault. Your brother came out of nowhere. I reacted a little more extremely than I should have."
"But after what happened with Megan—"
"I was on edge."
"So was I," she admitted. "I have the designs. Can I come in?"
He hesitated. "We can do it downstairs."
"It's really crowded down there. Why don't you show me your apartment?" How was she ever going to get into Griffin's life if he wouldn't even let her into his home?
"All right, but there's not much to see." He stepped back and waved her inside.
Griffin was right. His apartment was very basic, not even as nice as the one Megan had stayed in, which had also been pretty sparse.
In the living room was a black couch, glass coffee table, and a brown chair with an ottoman. A newspaper was spread out on the table along with a half-filled coffee mug. Two barstools faced the small kitchen island where there was a bag of apples and another bag of oranges.
She searched for something personal, but she didn't see a single photograph anywhere in the living room and the only pictures on the wall were watercolors of surfers that looked like they'd probably been picked up
at one of the local art fairs.
"What's the verdict?" Griffin asked.
"It definitely looks like a guy's apartment."
"You could have said something worse, so I'll go with that." He waved her toward the couch. "Let's see your designs."
"Okay." She took a seat and then pulled a folder out of her bag. She opened it and placed the two designs side by side on the coffee table. "This first one, as you can see, plays off the theme of trains, which I know kids love, and it fits with the Depot."
Griffin picked up the sketch, taking a long look at the trio of train cars winding their way up a mountain of dreams, the first car showing a female driving the train—the woman had been modeled off Deb Johnson, the manager of Hamilton House. The second car was filled with hopeful kids, and the third car filled with presents. Swirling around the mountaintop were clouds filled with inspiring words: love, peace, joy, share, and family.
"This is great," he said. "There's so much detail."
"Take a look at the other one, too," she said, handing him the second sketch.
She'd gone a more traditional holiday direction—a tall Christmas tree set in the Depot. Kids' names were etched on the colored ornament balls, and there were piles of presents under the tree. Santa sat in a royal chair and a nearby doorway showed three kids running into the room, excited to see what Santa had brought.
"This is good, too," he murmured. "You're really talented, Annie. These kids look so real."
"I like drawing characters. So, which one?"
"Which one do you like?" he returned.
She shook her head. "No way. You're the client. You pick."
"Well, I can't lose because they're both better than I could have imagined. I think I like the train the best. The mountain imagery feels inspiring."
She grinned. "That was my favorite. We're finally on the same page. That's printer-ready, by the way."
"Perfect." As he handed her the discarded sketch, he said, "This drawing did remind me of something else I have to do today."
"What's that?"
"Get a Christmas tree."
"That's fun. Are you going to cut one down?"
"I was thinking about going to a shopping center and just bringing one back."
"That's no fun. You should drive down the coast to one of the Christmas tree farms. The tree will be really fresh, and it will last longer. That's really the only way to go. Not that you asked for my opinion."
He laughed. "I never ask for your opinion, and yet I always get it."
The teasing light in his eyes lessened the harshness of that remark. "Lucky you, because I have very good opinions."
"Okay. Then you're coming with me."
"What?" she asked, surprised by his words. "You want me to come with you? Most days you try to get rid of me."
"Well, that hasn't worked, and I'm not cutting down this tree alone. Plus, left to my own devices, who knows how bad a tree I would pick?"
"Good point. Judging by this apartment, you don't put a lot of thought into how things look."
"We can drop off the sketch at the printer on the way," he said, getting to his feet. "I'm going to grab a jacket."
As Griffin went into the bedroom, she got up from the couch and meandered around the living room. There was nothing of personal significance in the room. She knew he wasn't close to his family, but it seemed odd for there to be nothing. It wasn't like he was subletting the place from someone else, and he hadn't just moved in; he'd been there for two years, he'd said. On the other hand, he was a guy, and she'd seen enough of her brothers' apartments over the years to know that men did not think the same way about their living space as women did.
"Ready to go?" Griffin asked, returning to the room with a black leather jacket over his dark-gray sweater and black jeans.
He looked so handsome, her mouth watered. Going with him was probably another bad idea but there was no way she was bailing now. As they left the apartment, she said, "What kind of tree are you looking for?"
"Something big and green."
"Well, that narrows it down. I think you need me, Griffin."
His blue eyes darkened as he looked at her. "I think I do, too."
And suddenly, she didn't think they were talking about Christmas trees anymore.
Twelve
Griffin regretted his impulsive comment the minute it left his mouth. Fortunately, Annie had let it go, which was unusual, since she rarely seemed to let anything go. But she was unusually quiet on their way to the printer, and he found himself needing to break the silence on their way to the Christmas tree farm.
"Do you cut down a tree every year?" he asked.
"No, I haven't done it in years."
He shot her a surprised look. "After the lecture you gave me earlier?"
She smiled. "The last few years I've barely had room in my apartment for a couch, much less a tree. But when I was a kid, we used to go down to Half Moon Bay—it's on the coast south of San Francisco. They didn't just have trees to cut down; there were also pony rides, sleigh rides, hot apple cider and hot chocolate with marshmallows. I have a lot of great memories. It would always take us a long time to pick a tree, too. My parents insisted we had to agree, and with six kids, that wasn't easy."
"I bet you were the last to give in."
"I could be stubborn. So could Dylan; he's the oldest, and he always liked being in charge. In fact, he still does."
"I can't imagine being one of six kids. How did you even fit in one car?"
"We didn't. When we went somewhere all together, we had to be in two cars."
"You said your dad is a retired firefighter?"
"Yes, but he's not really retired. He helps his brother, my Uncle Kevin, with his construction business."
"What does your mom do?"
"She's a nurse in the neonatal intensive care. She takes care of the really sick babies, and she is great at it. When I was in high school, I used to volunteer to go in and hold a baby after school. They need that human contact, and sometimes their mom isn't well enough to do it, and there are only so many nurses. I liked it, but sometimes it made me sad when things didn't end happily. I like good to win out."
He flung her a thoughtful glance, seeing the seriousness in her expression. Annie had a big heart, that was for sure, and she was definitely looking for a happily-ever-after—a reminder that he probably wasn't the person to give her that. He looked back at the road. "Did you have a big Christmas every year?"
"Absolutely. Our family is very Catholic, so the religious part of the holiday was important. Going to midnight Mass was part of our tradition, even when we were little. Sometimes I think they kept us up late on Christmas Eve so we'd have to sleep in on Christmas Day. But once we got up, it was mayhem, big family breakfast, presents in our PJs and then we'd play with our toys and get dressed for an extended family dinner at someone's house, which could be forty or more people. It was a lot, but it was always fun."
He felt an odd wave of envy. The Christmases in his life had always been small, and even when they'd gotten bigger, it was only because there were more strangers around, not family, not people who he really felt connected to. He cleared his throat, not wanting to think about his past, when Annie's was much more interesting. "Are you going home for the holiday this year?"
"Yes. I missed Thanksgiving. I was caught up with moving, and I just didn't feel like making the trip up north. But if I don't go home for Christmas, I have a feeling I'll have more siblings showing up down here."
"Maybe they can give you a heads-up first, or at least not come out of the shadows when I'm around."
"Hunter was impressed with your attack skills. He said you had lightning-fast moves. Where did you get those?"
"I grew up in a rough neighborhood."
"What neighborhood was that? Care to pinpoint an area less broad than the Midwest?"
He really didn't want to tell her outright lies. He didn't know why. He'd had no problem lying to a lot of other people.
> "Griffin? Why the mystery? What aren't you telling me?"
"I don't like to talk about the past or where I grew up, because it's not happy. It doesn't make me feel good, and it certainly wouldn't make you feel good. I like to live in the present."
"I looked you up on the Internet."
His gut tightened at her words. "Oh, yeah, what did you find out?"
"That the Internet doesn't know anything more about you than I do."
He was relieved to hear that. He'd checked online—more than once—but not in the past few weeks.
"Your name isn't even mentioned in connection to the bar. It says it's owned by Barrel Enterprises, which I assume must be you and Vinnie."
"What exactly are you trying to find out, Annie?"
"I'd like to know if you're a good guy."
"If you didn't think I was, would you really be sitting in my car right now? It's your brother, isn't it? He got into your head last night."
"Hunter might have said a few things," she admitted. "But nothing I wasn't already considering. I just don't know why you're so secretive when I'm clearly an open book. Do you think I'll judge you?"
She was probably the least judgmental person he'd ever met. "No."
"Then tell me something about your past."
"I grew up outside of Chicago, but I have moved around a lot since I became an adult. I've lived in New York, New Jersey, Boston, New Orleans, Houston and eventually made it all the way to the west coast.
"You and my Hunter have more in common than the ability to throw a quick punch. He likes to wander, too. So, you were born in Chicago, huh?"
"Outside of Chicago, in the suburbs," he corrected.
"You grew up with cold, white Christmases. You don't miss them?"
"There are some things I miss about Chicago, but winter isn't one of them."
She turned sideways in her seat and had a feeling the information he'd given her still wasn't enough. "What about women? Girlfriends? Have you had any?"
"A few."
"Anyone serious? Anyone you wanted to marry?"
His gut clenched at that question. "Yes. There was one serious relationship, but it didn't work out."
"Why not? What happened?"
Cant Let Go GO PL Page 12
