But all of that is nothing compared to the sense I get when I’m home alone. He’s watching me. I’m certain he is. It’s why I’ve been able to sleep so soundly, why Daisy can, too. We both know he’s standing guard even if I can’t explain how we know.
He still comes into the diner sometimes, but only to pick up a slice of Lorna’s peach cobbler. He doesn’t stay to chat with me. He gets a piece of pie at the counter and leaves. But the entire time he’s there, all I can focus on is him. The deep rumble of his voice as he talks quietly with Lorna, the twinkle in his eye as he banters with Ernie, and the subtle nod he gives me as he murmurs, “Howdy.”
All of it is drawing me to him, making me wake in the middle of the night with my thighs slick with desire. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never been drawn to a man the way I am with Griffin. He’s making me long for things. Dangerous things that could hurt both of us.
“Gotta stop thinking like that,” I remind myself as I lift the trash bag from the kitchen can. Lorna and Ernie went home early this evening. Lorna has a migraine, and Ernie insisted she leave.
I know he must have been worried if he left me behind with such a messy kitchen. He hates leaving his kitchen a mess. I’m determined to scrub it until it shines. It’s the least I can do for both of my bosses.
I grunt when I get the trash bag free from the can. I pause to tuck the baby monitor in my pocket so I can hear if Daisy makes a noise. Then I half-carry, half drag the bag outside. My skin prickles with familiar awareness. My body is a Griffin-radar, and it’s telling me he’s close.
Every step is a struggle, and I grunt. My ponytail is low, the sweaty tendrils wet and wispy against my skin. I hate the sticky humidity of summer and the way it doesn’t end, even after the sun has gone to bed.
“Fuck it,” the deep rumble is so familiar that I pause. Griffin appears from the shadows and grabs the bag from me. He slings it effortlessly into the dumpster. “Can’t stand to watch you struggle.”
A rush of heat goes through me that has nothing to do with the oppressive heat wave we’ve been under for days.
“There are three more where that came from,” I tell him, not even joking. Should I be mad he’s watching me all the time? Maybe. I don’t care. After years spent as the unseen foster child, it’s oddly comforting to have a man that likes to watch me all hours of the day and night.
“Point me in the direction,” he answers easily.
I let him take out the rest of the trash, marveling at the way his biceps move. What would have taken me three trips takes him only one. He easily hoists everything into the dumpster without breaking a sweat, and he looks good doing it.
He washes his hands in the kitchen while I gather more dishes from the lobby. It’s better for my aching libido if I’m far, far away from that man. I can’t watch him do any more chores for me. I might maul him on the spot.
When I bring a stack of plates, I expect to find Griffin gone again. Instead, he’s in front of the industrial dishwasher, loading it while he hums along to the song playing from his phone.
After a minute, the song is interrupted by the crackle of his police radio. It’s nothing urgent. Sheriff Luke is checking in with him about raccoons on someone’s property. But the message is a stark reminder to me.
“This really needs to stop,” I say the words softly under my breath.
But he lifts his head from the dishwasher because he heard me. Of course, he heard me. Just like I have a Griffin-radar, I’m beginning to think he has a Missy-radar. Is that thing? Can soulmates sense each other like that? I think of Ernie and the way he can usually predict if Lorna is going to have a migraine even before she knows it.
“Don’t worry. There’s still time to put in another load,” he answers as if we’re talking about the dishwasher.
“No, this. This thing between us. I—” I step forward then stop and blow out a breath. I don’t have much experience, and I don’t believe in playing games with someone’s heart. So, I force myself to explain, “I like you. I do, and you’re very kind. But you should go and date a girl who can give you what you want.”
He abandons the dishwasher, stepping around it. He cups my face, his fingertips still wet from the dishes. “I know you’re scared, but you’re not alone anymore. I’ve got your back.”
I blink against the unexpected moisture in my eyes. “It’s not that easy.”
His thumb strokes my cheek, his touch light and reverent. “I’m not asking for easy. Give me your burdens. Put all the heaviness on my shoulders. Let me carry it.”
I reach for the front of his flannel shirt, pulling him close. I raise up on my tiptoes and seal our lips together in a gentle kiss. He cups the back of my head, threading his fingers through my messy ponytail.
He lets me explore his mouth, learning his taste and his shape. At least, until I moan against him. The vibration traveling from my body to his turns my gentle cowboy into a rumbling beast. His hands go to my hips, digging hard into my soft flesh. He lifts me onto the counter, and I instantly part my knees for him. My hands go to his shoulders, pulling him as close as possible.
“You taste like my future,” he breathes against my lips. His words melt me, and I press my chest against his, my breasts feeling unexpectedly heavy.
His tongue sweeps into my mouth, stroking mine as his hands continue to knead the flesh of my hips. “My beautiful girl. Your body was made for mine.”
I call his name and stroke his beard. I love how big and bushy it is. I love how it tickles my face when he’s kissing me. I’d love to feel it tickling my chest and my tummy and my thighs. Before I can get carried away and suggest something like moving this conversation back to my place, Daisy lets out a wail on the baby monitor.
He stops kissing me, pressing his forehead to mine while we both try to suck in oxygen. My vision is mainly black spots, but I have zero regrets. All he had to do was kiss me, and my panties are drenched.
“We’ll finish this later,” he promises in a deep, gritty tone as he steps away from me.
I feel cold without his body next to mine, but that’s not the reason I shiver. It’s the sensual promise in his voice that has me clenching my empty core.
