The Rogue

by Jennifer Bernard

  He cocked his head at her over his club soda. “What are they like?”

  “Well.” Before she continued, she glanced around the bar to see if anyone else needed anything. “Thumbnail version. Parents divorced. Dad left. Mom married someone who couldn’t stand me.”

  He looked at her steadily, as if waiting for more. “What do I have to do to get the non-thumbnail version?”

  She folded her lips together. Could she trust Griffin? Jake did, and she trusted Jake. Maybe Griffin could help her. Was it worth taking a chance?

  Leaning her elbows on the bar, she lowered her voice. “I’m actually on a mission here in Rocky Peak. I think my father might have come here on his way to disappearing.”

  He straightened up, his body going taut with alertness. “Is this related to the threat Jake’s worried about?”

  “Yes. Probably. But the only thing those notes did was prove that I’m on the right track. That’s why I decided to stick around and see what I could dig up.”

  “Freakishly persistent, are you?”

  She smiled. “You’re not the only one with good qualities.”

  “Oh, I’m very sure that’s true.”

  Another flush of pure pleasure swept through her. She saw the attraction in his look, the awareness. It wasn’t an obnoxious come-on kind of expression. It was something simpler and more factual—like, fact: you’re attractive. Fact: I’m attracted to you.

  The hours wore on, and still Griffin showed no signs of bailing on his bodyguard responsibilities, even though that smile of his got more and more fatigued.

  When she got a break from serving up drinks, she brought him a plate of bar snacks, which was the only food the pub offered. “I wish we had a real menu. I’ve been pushing Jake to expand the kitchen and offer more food. But he likes things the way they are.”

  “This is great, thanks.” He selected a peanut and popped it into his mouth. “But I’ll back you up on the menu. I’ve been telling him the same thing. He keeps saying ‘find me a cook and I’ll do it.’ Do you cook?”

  “Nope. I’m a snacker. Once I dipped a pretzel in my best cobalt paint. Ever since then I’ve tried to keep food and work separate.”

  He smiled. It was a beautiful smile, she realized, lightening the almost brooding quality of his face. Somehow, all her resistance to having a sort-of-bodyguard vanished. She just liked having him around, talking to him, looking at him.

  Trouble.

  A young woman in tight jeans and a crop top sweater slid onto the stool next to him. She waited for Griffin to notice, to assume his normal polite smile, but he didn’t so much as blink. He kept gazing her direction, as if they were still in the middle of a conversation.

  Finally she herself smiled at the girl. “Hi there. What can I get you?”

  Did Griffin startle? If so, he covered it well. Smoothly, he looked over at the girl next to him. She lit up as his glance landed on her, and forgot all about placing her order.

  “I don’t care what they say, I’m still a fan of yours, Rogue,” she gushed.

  Griffin’s shoulders slumped—but so subtly that only Serena noticed. Poor man. He was all talked out, and yet he was still here fulfilling his promise to Jake.

  An idea came to her.

  She slid her hand across the bar and covered Griffin’s, which was resting curled in a half-fist next his glass. “Sweetie, you ready for a refill yet?”

  He swung back to face her, quick comprehension filling those dark eyes of his. He lifted his eyebrows as if to ask, are you sure? She batted her eyelashes at him.

  “Always looking out for me. That’s why I adore you so much.” He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. Soft and firm, the touch sent tremors along the skin of her arm. She resisted the urge to snatch her hand away, to examine it for clues about that quick response.

  Instead she smiled seductively. “You know it, babe. And I know you’ll return the favor later.”

  A spark flared in his eyes. The girl’s smile dropped as she looked from one to the other of them. “Are you guys together?”

  “Can’t you tell?” Serena said—which wasn’t a yes, and therefore not a lie.

  “But I mean, like, really together? Or just, like, for now together?”

  “We haven’t really put a limit on it,” Griffin said. Another non-answer and non-lie.

  “Everyone’s saying you’re single.” Her accusing tone made Serena smile—as if Griffin had personally misled her and all of her friends.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, simply.

  Since there was nothing more for her to say, the girl slid off the stool and left, forgetting all about whatever she’d intended to order.

  “That was … uh … interesting,” Griffin said.

  “Yes. It was.” But Serena was referring to something else—the fact that he hadn’t even been aware that the girl had sat down next to him. That seemed odd, for an athlete with such incredibly quick reaction time. The first time she’d met him, he’d snatched a falling glass of water out of the air before it hit the ground. She had no idea why he’d taken so long to respond to the girl on the stool. Interesting.

  “Do you know how fast word’s going to spread that we’re together?” he asked her. “Just warning you.”

  Frick, she hadn’t thought about that when she’d spontaneously come to his rescue. “Sorry, it was one of those impulses. You looked like you couldn’t handle one more beautiful girl coming onto you. Should we stage a huge breakup? I have been known to throw drinks in men’s faces before. Not usually when I’m serving those drinks, but if needs must, I can dig deep and make that happen.”

  But Griffin wore a thoughtful look and didn’t respond to her offer.

  She broke away to ring up a group from Majestic Lodge. When she came back, he’d turned the stool around and was propping his elbows on the bar, surveying the crowd. For once, everyone was leaving him alone.

  “I think you might be a certified genius,” he told her, twirling the stool back around to face her. “Look, no one’s coming within ten yards of me. It’s like you established a magical force field around me. How the hell did you manage that?”

  She laughed. “Everyone knows you don’t mess with the bartenders’ turf. You might never get another decent drink if you do that.”

  He grinned at her widely, a wicked smile filled with so much potent male vitality that she lost her breath for a moment. “You’re onto something here, Serena. You started this, I think you’re obligated to keep it up.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “If the town thinks we’re together, why correct the record? It’d sure save me a lot of hassle. Maybe people will talk about that instead of my retirement.”

  She blinked at him as various scenarios spun through her mind. “No. That’s ridiculous. What if one of us wants to actually date someone?”

  “From my end, not an issue.”

  That simple answer had her eyebrows lifting.

  “I mean, I’m not looking to get involved with anyone here. Town’s too small. I have too much history here. Better to keep a safe zone.”

  “You’re putting the entire town of Rocky Peak in the friend zone?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I guess. Besides…” he hesitated. A customer signaled her for a refill of his glass of wine and she hurried off to fill the order. It was ridiculous to feel annoyed by people expecting her to do her job, when she’d rather find out where this intriguing conversation with Griffin Rockwell was going.

  “Besides, what?” she asked when she finally got back to his end of the bar. “What else aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing big. Just…well, I have an event coming up. I have to make an appearance for my sponsor. It would be really helpful if I had someone with me.”

  This just got more and more…um, interesting. “You want me to be your arm candy?”

  “It’s asking a lot, I know. These events are tedious as shit. Also…look, never mind. I got carried away be
cause I just found out about this thing and I’m already trying to figure out a way to avoid it. Let’s just take that off the table.” He pointed to his jaw, where dark stubble lurked. “Bring on the drink. Just keep it non-alcoholic, please.”

  She laughed. “Don’t tempt me. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as throwing a drink in someone’s face. You should try it sometime.”

  A customer came over to hand her a credit card, so she rang him up and chatted for a moment as he added the tip. She felt Griffin’s eyes on her during the whole exchange. It was a pleasant, tingling feeling, like adding spice to a bland meal.

  She loved spice.

  “By the way, the answer is no,” she said when she finally made her way back to him.

  He nodded once and looked down at his club soda, as if trying to hide his disappointment. “Got it. It was a crazy idea anyway.”

  “I mean, no I don’t want to date anyone else.”

  His dark gaze flew up to meet hers, and with a shock, she realized that she’d phrased that all wrong.

  “Anyone anyone. Not just anyone else. Anyone at all.”

  “So you’re saying—”

  “That it’s not an issue for me, either, potentially dating someone else. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Yeah, but now I have to worry about you. Why not? Why no dating?”

  “Couple reasons.” This time, the fact that Susie from the gas station needed another beer was a relief. Conversations with Griffin were a major distraction.

  “First of all,” she continued as soon as she got back. “Nothing personal, but you men require a lot of time and attention.” She gave him a teasing smile to take the sting from those words, but Griffin just laughed.

  “I hear it’s supposed to be mutual, not some babysitting gig.”

  “Supposed to be, sure. A lot of things are supposed to be that aren’t. At any rate, the second reason is the main one.” Her smile dropped; she wanted to make sure he knew she was serious. “I’m here for one reason only, and that’s to see if I can find my dad. That makes me a magnet for trouble, apparently. So I’m probably not the best person to be your fake arm-candy trophy date.”

  He leaned forward, fixing her with a commanding kind of look that would give her shivers in a bedroom. “You think I’m worried about whoever left those notes?”

  Hm. Apparently not.

  Griffin shrugged his broad shoulders. “Look, you have every right to say no to this, but don’t do it because you’re worried about me. I can take care of myself. I’m also, you know, your sort of bodyguard at the moment. Makes it even more convenient.”

  She realized that their intense conversation was drawing attention from the nearby customers. “Let’s talk about this later.”

  He sat back, and she spent the rest of the time until closing avoiding any further conversation with Griffin. That didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of him. Acutely aware, in fact. His dark head bent over his phone as he answered a text. His smiling conversation with Marie, who’d just taken over Peak Taxi, the only cab service in town. His glance at the TV when the weather report came on.

  Shortly before closing, Artie Nelson paid his tab and headed for the exit. He only made it halfway before Griffin intercepted him. Artie was a big guy—a coach, she’d heard, but Griffin’s powerful build made him look small. She strained to hear what they were saying, but couldn’t make it out over the din of other voices. Whatever the topic, it wasn’t friendly. Hostility radiated from both of the men.

  When Griffin came back to the bar, she raised her eyebrows at him. “Reminiscing about old times?“

  “You could say that,” he said, in a tone that made it clear the topic was off-limits.

  Okay then—his business. She had plenty of her own secrets that were just as off-limits.

  After closing, one of the waitresses left early, so Griffin offered to help out in her place. “I’ve helped Jake a few times, I know the drill,” he told her when she started to object.

  Since she was tired and could use the help, she agreed.

  She also let him walk her back to her place. Not because she was nervous, but because she liked having him pace next to her, each step made of smooth, controlled power. His black leather jacket hugged his frame and matched the darkness of his hair. His sheer beauty gave her so much pleasure—as an artist, of course.

  What would that power feel like in bed?

  She chased the thought away. “So basically what we’re talking about is me playing sort-of arm-candy while you play sort-of bodyguard.”

  “Yes, but I can throw in one more thing to sweeten the deal. Maybe I can help with looking for your father.”

  “Really? How?”

  “I did grow up here. I know the territory. We have our share of shady shit around here.”

  She glanced up at him curiously as they neared her cabin. Before she could ask him more about “the shady shit,” he touched her arm. “Think about it. And stay here while I do a quick check for weirdos lurking in the bushes.”

  He disappeared down her driveway, moving so quietly he could have been a cat. She tightened her red wool coat around her and tilted her head back to gaze up at the stars. Here in the mountains, the stars seemed so much clearer and more brilliant, maybe even bigger. Or closer, as if they were scattering sparkles of light onto a never-ending party.

  A chill passed through her, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. For a moment, she was absolutely certain someone was watching her.

  “All clear,” said Griffin, striding back to her side.

  The feeling vanished, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her imagination was going into overdrive, that was all.

  “You really think that was necessary?”

  “Doesn’t take but a minute, and now you can sleep better.” In the darkness, his smile made her shiver.

  It irritated her that she found him so attractive.

  She stuck out her hand to shake his. “I appreciate your attention to detail. I can’t wait to give Jake a hard time for never checking the bushes.”

  He grinned. “I’m a competitive bastard, you might as well know that about me now. Comes with the territory.”

  Their hand shake felt slightly ridiculous, as if they’d already gone many degrees past the handshaking stage. But it also felt good—warm, reassuring, a human touch to carry with her into her empty cabin.

  With one last wave, she put her key in the lock, knowing he was going to wait until she was safely inside. “Oh, I almost forgot!” she exclaimed. “What was that legend you and Jake were talking about the other day?”

  Griffin laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Damn, I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

  “Never. I have an alarm set on my phone to remind me. I set it for three in the morning, so if you don’t want to get a middle-of-the-night call from me, spill it.”

  “All right, you asked for it.” He stepped a little closer. The very naughty part of her wanted him to keep coming, all the way to the door and beyond, inside to her bedroom. “This cabin was originally built for the schoolteacher, back when Rocky Peak had a little one-room schoolhouse. One of the last in the country, by the way. The teachers tended to be young women back then. Some stayed longer than others, but they all lived in this particular cabin. Until they got married, that is.”

  “So what’s the legend?”

  “That’s it. The legend is that becoming a teacher in Rocky Peak means marrying a local, because it happened so often. After the school closed and the cabin became a rental, the legend lived on.”

  “If you rent this cabin, you’ll marry a local?” She laughed, since something so ridiculous couldn’t possibly apply to her. “It’s a good thing I like to chart my own course. I can’t really picture any of the locals around here seeing me as marriage material.”

  Griffin just smiled. “I’m not vouching for the accuracy of the legend. But I’d keep an eye on the mayor if I were you. I hear he’s always looking for anothe
r wife.”

  She burst out laughing, since the mayor had made a play for her on her first day on the job. “Point taken. Good night, Griffin.”

  “Good night.”

  It wasn’t until she was inside her cabin, curtains drawn, lights on, and her driveway empty except for her car, that she realized something.

  Technically, Griffin was a local.

  6

  Since winter was coming on fast, John Derrick decided that the roof repairs should come first—and quickly—and all the interior renovations would happen after that. All hands were required to make sure it got done before the first real snow dump, so Griffin and Kai volunteered to help out the roof crew.

  It was cold work, maneuvering up there in the sharp wind that sliced across the ridge. He and Kai didn’t talk much, but instead got into a steady groove, ripping shingles, replacing tar paper, hammering in the new wood. Every couple hours, they took a break and climbed down the ladder to warm up inside the lodge.

  Nicole kept a big fire roaring in the lounge, along with fresh coffee and platters piled with rolls and blocks of cheese and sliced ham. And, of course, the ever-famous venison chili.

  “Remember when we went on a hunger strike and refused to eat any more bowls of chili?” His hands red from the cold, Griffin filled a bowl for Kai and passed it over.

  “Yup. Mom told us we were welcome to make our own dinner and that she looked forward to sampling our creations.”

  “Which was basically hotdogs every night.”

  “And then she put chili over her hotdog and that looked so good, we begged her for more chili. She laughed her ass off at us.”

  They both laughed, though it was bittersweet. For Griffin, every memory of Mom held an edge, like a silent alarm. Keep quiet. Don’t talk about that.

  That was what Coach Nelson had said. If you say a word, I’ll tell everyone where I saw your mother, and what she was doing.

  He still didn’t know what Nelson had been talking about. He didn’t want to know.

  At the Last Chance, he’d issued a warning—“watch yourself and stay the fuck away from Jake’s bar.” He didn’t trust the dude for a second.