Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“I can meet you out tonight and save you the trouble.”
“You’re no trouble.”
“It’s okay.” I calculated the math to see how much time I’ll need before leaving again. I need a shower, though I won’t have to wash my hair. I want to spend time with Jacob, catching up on his day and making his dinner. It might be best to go later once he’s in bed. He won’t be upset, and I won’t need to worry about the two of them crossing paths just yet.
He says, “How about you text me later. Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
Stroking my hair back on one side, he’s still smiling like it’s become a permanent installation. “How did I never hear about you before? No way news of someone this pretty wouldn’t have crossed county lines.” Still standing taller in front of him, he kisses me.
I rub my hand around the back of his neck to bring him closer and go deeper, my body urging me to rock against him again. I resist, needing to control myself just a little since I’m still at work.
“Honey, you didn’t greet us like you—”
I push off Griffin; my glasses fall to the bridge of my nose, and my eyes dart toward the door to see my mother and brother standing there staring. I push the frames in place and swipe the back of my hand over my lips. The shock of seeing them, of them catching us, makes my heart thunder in my chest. I’m lost for words, and don’t dare look at the man I step in front of as if my body can hide the evidence, mainly him.
Their gazes establish the disapproval I knew they’d feel when they glare at him over the top of my head. Yeah, pretty sure they see him. Throwing my arms wide, I cross the room. “I wasn’t expecting you today.” I hug my mom tight, but her arms are too languid to make me feel any love in return.
“You were on the itinerary,” she says. I step back, looking her in the eyes with a nervous smile on my face. “I expected you to be waiting out front.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your mother. Or have you already forgotten . . .” The way her words trail off gives me no reprieve. I know she’s distracted by the man behind me who I’m still pretending is invisible, while my mind rolls through fifty scenarios of how to explain what they just walked in on.
I go to my brother and hug him, only to get a strong pat on the back from him with a loud chuckle. “It’s been so long, Will. How was the flight?” When I shift to the side, he flips his finger out, pointing in Griffin’s direction. “You do know we can see him, right, Buggy?”
My lips tighten when I hear that nickname again. It’s something I did not miss with him being gone. But he’s right when it comes to Griffin. I need to own the situation. Never let them see you sweat.
Glancing back, I can’t stop the smile when I see him standing there, looking rugged in his jeans and tee, sweaty from moving our furniture for the past hour, and so handsome as his confidence remains intact after getting busted kissing me. Or was it me kissing him? Either way, this will make news among the Dover family if I don’t take control of the situation and fast.
“Yes.” I return to his side this time and say, “Griffin Gr—” Oh crap. What mess have I gotten myself into?
“Griffin Gr?” my mom asks, genuinely curious as her expression tightens. “That’s unique. What’s the origin of such a unique last name?”
My brother doesn’t fall for it. I don’t know if he knows where I was going with it, but he’s shrewdly aware of my detour by how he shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels, and trying to keep himself from laughing.
Griffin replies, “Can’t tell you. I think it got lost in translation many generations back.”
“Delancy,” I say, holding my hand in the direction of my mom. “This is my mother, Delancy Dover.”
Griffin cuts across the room to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Dover. I’ve only heard wonderful things about you.”
“That’s such a lovely thing for you to say.” I didn’t take my mom for the blushing kind, but guess she’d never met Griffin Greene before either. “Cricket hasn’t told me anything about you, but I look forward to hearing more. Hopefully soon, considering what we walked in on—”
“During business hours as well,” my brother adds. “Tsk. Tsk.” Jerk.
Aggravated by him, I mumble, “This is my brother, William Dover.”
“Will,” my brother says, reaching out to shake his hand. “Good to meet you.”