by Erica Penrod
“Well, son, we were sure glad you were there.” Her dad nodded.
Moisture collected on Griff’s forehead, and his body swayed as if he might collapse beneath the weight of her parents’ affection. It served him right after the way he’d acted at his house, but she felt sorry for him.
“Look, Griff made a us a pie.” She was a sucker for the underdog and held out the pastry like an offering.
“You made this?” Her mom let go of Griff and inspected the pie. She gazed up at him. Her mom’s wide eyes and adoring smile worried Hilary. So much for drawing the attention from him. Any moment now, she expected Griff to bolt out the door, although she wasn’t sure if his absence would be a bad thing or not.
“Yes.” Griff tucked his hands in his pockets. “It’s the one thing I know how to bake.”
“Please, sit down.” Her mom pointed to the couch. “Did your mom teach you?”
Ugh. If Hilary would’ve known he was coming, she could have briefed her parents on Griff’s childhood so as to avoid an uncomfortable situation like this. Hilary saw Griff draw in a breath and vulnerability cloud his eyes.
“Griff’s foster mom, Lucinda, taught him how to make pumpkin pies. Griff said she was a wonderful woman.” She smiled at Griff, who exhaled, and as his eyes brightened, she knew he’d appreciated her speaking up.
Her parents exchanged a glance, and then her mom turned to Griff. “You’ll have to tell us about her over dinner. Would you like anything to drink while Hilary and I finish up a few things?”
“No, thank you.” Griff sat down, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. “Is there anything I could help you with?”
“No, thank you.” Her mom waved her hand through the air. “You’re our guest, and we’re thrilled to have you.” She retied her apron strings and went back to the kitchen. Hilary followed, leaving Griff on his own with her dad.
Around the corner of the fridge, her mom whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d invited someone to dinner?” She took the carving knife out of the block. “I would’ve prepared a couple more side dishes.” Her mom glanced over at Hilary. “And you should’ve dressed up a little more.” She peeked back at the men. “He’s awfully handsome, Hilary. Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been dating someone?”
Hilary screwed up her face. “I’m not dating Griff. I hardly know him.”
“You can’t fool me, Hilary Newton. I can feel the chemistry between you two, and the way he looks at you …” She fanned her face. “Don’t even get me started on that.”
“Mom.” Hilary checked over her shoulder to see her dad and Griff engaged in conversation. “There is nothing between us.” Her skin began to itch, and her muscles got all twitchy. Hilary admitted to herself that she felt something for Griff, even if she couldn’t put a name to it. But Griff didn’t like her; he’d practically thrown her out of his house.
She chewed the inside of her cheek as she contemplated the situation. If Griff disliked her so much, why did he show up for dinner? Perhaps there was a heart buried somewhere deep in his chest. “He just feels bad about me getting hurt on his property.”
“You didn’t tell me you were at his house when you got hurt.”
Oh crap, that little confession wouldn’t help her case at all. “I went to drop off a package that was left at my apartment by accident.” Hilary picked up a fork and checked the boiling potatoes. “These are ready to be mashed.”
Her mom nodded as she placed the knife on the counter and reached for the strainer. “Whatever you think isn’t going on between you and Griff, you shouldn’t discourage it.” She placed the strainer in the sink. “I can’t remember the last time you had a date.”
Hilary opened her mouth, then pulled her lips into a taut line as she reached for the hot pads. The truth was, Hilary couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a date either. She hadn’t even thought about a romantic life since she’d been a teenager. Hilary pulled the pot from the stove and walked over to the sink. She’d planned to travel the world, and when she’d had her fill, then she’d worry about a Friday night date. Given her timeline so far, Hilary would be searching the single-after-sixty websites.
She poured the potatoes and hot water into the strainer. Something heated in her chest, and the reaction had nothing to do with the rising steam. Her dreams had been her own for so long she’d never considered it any other way … until now. She scowled, thinking about the man in the other room. If she had someone to share those dreams with, to travel with, and experience the world with, her life might be even richer. Dang Griff Bailey and his good-smelling cologne, and pie. He’d intoxicated her, and now she was having delirious thoughts. The trouble was, she kind of liked the feeling.
* * *
Griff preferred the haunting of a ghost, even one as persistent as Lucinda, to the cornucopia of feelings welling within his chest. So much time had passed since he’d had Thanksgiving with a family that he wasn’t prepared for his emotions to manifest like the turkey timer. POP! Time’s up. No more pretending isolation was favored over warm conversation and a good meal.
“Thank you for having me.” Griff dried the last dish and handed it off to Hilary.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled as she stacked the plate in the cupboard. Griff had caught Hilary eyeing him during dinner, and he couldn’t interpret her meaning. The notch between her brows and the intensity of her stare led him to believe she was in deep contemplation. If she regretted her invitation, she’d done a great job masquerading her disdain by the way she’d jumped in and saved him from delving into his traumatic childhood. “Thanks for bringing the pie.”
“My pleasure.” Okay, he lied, but Hilary didn’t need to know he’d been haunted into coming. Hilary must’ve known he was a recluse; he didn’t want to add hears voices to the list of why she’d never want to see him again. Not that he was sure she’d want to now, but just in case, he’d not mention Lucinda anytime soon, or maybe ever. Because in spite of himself, he hoped Hilary would find her way to his doorstep once more, and this time, he didn’t want to push her away.
Chapter Ten
Hilary pressed the phone to her ear. “Yes, Sam, that would be fine. No, I don’t mind a little shopping; I could pick up a few things too.” She opened the fridge and put the leftover plate she’d brought from her parents’ house. “Yes, six o’clock will be fine. I’ll be at the hotel.”
She hung up, thinking that it was funny he’d called on Thanksgiving. Sure, the big meal was over and she was back in her apartment, but still … He’d called on a holiday and sounded awfully familiar, acting like they were longtime best friends instead of reacquainted acquaintances.
His invitation sounded more like a date than a business meeting. Sam was a busy man, and if Saturday night was the only time he could fit her in to talk about the channel, she wasn’t about to argue. Sam’s offer had made her dreams grow wings overnight, no longer grounded by reality. Sam had the power to change her life.
Hilary kicked off her shoes and padded to the bedroom. A quick change into her pajamas and she’d curl up on the couch to watch White Christmas. Griff had occupied her thoughts. Seeing the smile on her dad’s face as he and Griff had discussed architecture over turkey and cranberries dulled the memory of his earlier rude behavior. His shoulders relaxed and his smile came easily as the afternoon progressed. By the time they’d cut into his pie, Griff was no longer the guest, but a part of the family. He’d hopped up and cleared the dishes before anyone could stop him. Hilary wondered why Griff kept this version of himself from the rest of the world. A warm sensation rolled through her belly, and she smiled. She knew his secret: he really was a good guy.
The doorbell rang, startling her. She set her pajamas on the bed and went to the door. It was a holiday and almost 9 PM. She peeked through the peephole, and her heart sped up at the sight of a package on the ground. She unlocked the door and stared at her name written across the top in big black letters. A quick side-to-side glance and sh
e scooped up the box, wondering what treasures it held. Her heart continued to thunder in her chest as she balanced the box on her hip and shut the door.
She grabbed a utility knife and sliced through the packing tape to find wads of red and green tissue paper. Like an archaeologist, she cleared her way until she discovered something—another velvet box. She lifted the small container, and her fingers shook with anticipation as she opened the lid. Her breath caught as she stared at two small charms in the same gold as the first two: a pie and a sock.
* * *
Saturday evening, Hilary checked her reflection in the mirror and groaned. Her mind had been preoccupied with Griff, the charms, and the decision she had to make about Sam’s offer. An eight-hour shift hadn’t done anything to glam her up for the business date with Sam. Oh well. She turned from the mirror and walked out into the lobby. If she was really worried about her appearance, she could run into her parents’ suite, but trying to impress Sam with her looks wasn’t high on her priority list. It was her channel he should be interested in.
The door revolved as she approached the front desk. Her stomach swayed in anticipation and then Sam appeared. A weight, perhaps disappointment, settled on her. The man was attractive in his light-blue button-down and black leather coat, but her heart didn’t zoom away at the sight of him.
“Have fun,” Sarah called to her from behind the desk. Hilary caught the swooning glaze in Sarah’s eyes and chuckled. Sam did seem to have that effect on women. Maybe something was wrong with her. Griff’s face appeared in her mind, and she didn’t care if she was different.
“Hi, Hilary.” Sam walked over. Hilary thought she heard Sarah catch her breath. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” She zipped up her jacket and smiled. Sam gestured for her to lead the way, and she did.
* * *
Griff was trying. Honestly, he was, but all the Christmas hoopla and people pushing and shoving their way through the crowded store was more than he could take. After Thanksgiving with Hilary and her parents, he wanted to make some changes in his life, but he wasn’t sure where to begin. He’d forgotten what life was like when you had people to share the holidays with. Against his better judgment, especially for someone trying to adopt a new attitude, he’d gone downtown on the biggest shopping weekend of the year, but at least it wasn’t Black Friday.
Gene Autry’s version of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” blared through the speakers, and a child threw a tantrum right behind him. He was about to offer the mother money to buy whatever toy the kid was crying about when he saw her—Hilary. His heart jumped and then plummeted as he took in the man standing too close to her to be a stranger.
Griff turned away and hoped she hadn’t seen him.
“Griff?” Hilary’s voice carried over the crowd, which didn’t seem possible, considering the noise.
His connection to her was like a sixth sense, and now it was completely irritating when he realized he’d been wrong to think Hilary’s feelings were anything other than platonic. She was obviously on a date with Sam Wentworth. All hope of a new outlook on life deflated, right along with his hope of Hilary having feelings for him. He kept his back to her until she tapped him on the shoulder.
He swiveled around. “Hello.”
“Are you Christmas shopping?” Her cheeks were flushed, and the tip of her nose was pink. He glanced over her shoulder and saw Sam had stopped at a rack of overpriced ski coats. She unwrapped the scarf around her neck, and he tried not to look at the delicate skin at the base of her throat.
“No, I’m not Christmas shopping.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what I was thinking coming here tonight. Too many people, too much Christmas paraphernalia. It’s ridiculous. All I wanted was to grab a few pairs of socks.”
Hilary’s skin paled, and she stepped back. “W-w-what did you say?”
He raised a brow at her response. “I came in to buy some socks.” She gaped at him, her mouth slack. Griff was confused. Last time he checked, it wasn’t a crime to purchase footwear. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She crossed her arms as Sam came up beside her.
“Sam Wentworth.” He offered his hand to Griff.
“Griff Bailey.” They shook. “I know who you are. I lived in Hollyville for a while as a kid.”
Sam bobbed his head up and down. “I thought you looked familiar.” He touched Hilary’s arm, but she continued to stare at Griff, her mind elsewhere. “Come on, Hilary, we’d better get going if we want to catch our reservation.”
Griff fisted his hands and jammed them into his coat pockets. Anger boiled in his blood, but none of his hostility was for Hilary. This was all on him. He’d known better, and yet he’d allowed himself to hope there might be something between them, something worth lowering his guard to explore. He’d taken the chance, but seeing Hilary here with Sam Wentworth only proved that Griff was headed for a heartache, and he’d experienced more than a lifetime’s worth of those.
“See you later.” Hilary smiled, but questions lingered in her eyes.
There wasn’t anything to be confused about. The situation was perfectly clear as Sam led her away through the crowd. Griff pivoted in the opposite direction. He didn’t need socks this badly. Griff would head back up the mountain, where this time he intended to stay.
* * *
Hilary owed Sam an apology—at least that was what her mom’s voice kept barking from the back of her mind, because she’d only been half involved in the meeting.
“Thank you, Sam.” They stood outside her apartment door. The fall breeze was on the brink of a winter wind, and she wrapped her arms around her middle for warmth. They had shopped, gotten something to eat, and discussed his proposal for her channel over the meal. The problem was, she couldn’t keep her mind off Griff. “I appreciate your offer, and I will let you know in a few days what my decision is.”
Sam turned up the collar of his coat, making it brush the bottom curls of his coal-black hair. “Are you sure everything is okay? If you have any more questions, I’d love to come in and go over things again.”
She smiled, hoping she appeared gracious. “That won’t be necessary. I’ve got all the information I need. It’s just a lot to think about, considering my family’s circumstances.” Hilary didn’t give him the entire truth. The bulk of her thoughts centered on Griff and the charms, which was silly, since signing with Sam and leaving her parents was the more pressing issue.
“All right. If you’re sure?” He stepped in closer, and Hilary reached for the doorknob. Sam had kept things professional besides the occasional casual touch, except when his hazel eyes lingered longer than necessary on her mouth, like right now. His stare implied more than a business agreement.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Hilary quickly unlocked the door and stepped in. “I’ll give you a call. Thanks, Sam.” She shut the door before he could respond.
Hilary braced herself against the wood, hoping she hadn’t been rude to the man who offered to fund her dreams, but she couldn’t give him the wrong idea. She wasn’t interested in Sam as anyone other than a business partner. The problem was, she wasn’t sure he understood, or if he was capable of understanding that she didn’t see him as a romantic option. A woman not throwing herself at him was probably a foreign concept. Everywhere he went, women swooned over him.
Hilary glanced over and saw the two little velvet boxes sitting on the counter. Four charms in total, and all seemed to be related to Griff. Or did she want them to involve Griff? No, this was too much of a coincidence, but who could be sending her these charms? She hadn’t mentioned the charms to Griff. Hilary had planned to tell him the day she’d gone to his house, but after he’d opened his package and found the pie ingredients, she’d been sidetracked.
Her phone rang as she set her purse down. She took the device out. Maryn. Thank heavens. Hilary wanted to talk to someone about the charms and Sam’s proposal.
“Hey, sis.” Hilary walked over to the living room an
d plopped onto the couch.
“Hey, how are you?” Maryn’s voice bubbled through the speaker.
Hilary grinned, hearing the happiness in her sister’s enunciation. “I’m good.” She leaned her head back against the cushion. “I’m glad you called. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you on Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, don’t worry. Mom filled me in on the handsome man you invited to dinner.”
Hilary squeezed her temples. “Oh, great. I can hardly imagine what she had to say.”
“I thought you said there was nothing between you and Griff Bailey.”
“There isn’t.” Hilary chewed the corner of her lip. “At least, I don’t think so.”
“Spill it, sister,” Maryn demanded.
Hilary exhaled. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I’m drawn to him, even though half the time he acts like he can’t stand me. He prefers to live alone on the mountain with his dog.”
“Okay, so if he can’t stand you half of the time, what’s happening the other 50%?”
“He doesn’t like to show it, but he’s a good human being, and you should see the way he is with Dad.” Their father’s face came to mind. “I haven’t seen Dad smile like that in a long time. Griff treated him like a friend and not a sick person. I think I fell in love with him right then and there—” Hilary clamped her hand over her mouth.
“What did you just say?” Maryn didn’t miss a thing.
“Nothing.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I just meant I love the way Griff is with Dad.”
Silence.
“Maryn?” Hilary worried she’d lost the connection, or worse, that her sister was speechless. Very few moments in life left Maryn without anything to say, and most of them were life-changing events, like the day they found out their dad was ill. This couldn’t be that extreme, could it?
