Next to me, Griff let out a low scoff. "See? A dump, just like I said."
Good Lord.This was worse than a dump.
Bracing myself, I finally stepped inside, slowly, like I might fall through the floor if I moved too fast. "You weren't kidding."
He didn't say anything as he followed after me. He just let me look. There wasn't much to see – just enough to send my head spinning as the contradictions hit home. Griff – the guy with big-city, alpha vibes, the bike-fixer, the expert kisser –thatguy was living here?
I took a long look around.None of this made sense.
Yes, I knew about the bet.
But this wasn't just some stripped-down rental. This was the kind of place you only called home if you had nowhere else to go.
So why was he here?
And more importantly, whowashe really?
Griff turned and pointed toward the tiny balcony. "Look, waterfront."
I was no stranger to the cost of real estate on the island. This place – this stinking dump – had to be worth half-a-million, easy, if not more. I'd lived on the island for most of my life, but never within view of the water, because, well…who had that kind of money?
Not me, that's for sure.
But this place? All it needed was a good wrecking ball. The land – that was the real prize. But the building itself – not so much.And how on Earth did it pass inspection?
As I looked from wall to wall, I noticed that all of the windows were wide open, letting in a cool breeze that should've been refreshing.
Maybe it was. But I still felt grubby.
Grasping for something to say, I asked, "So…you leave the windows open?" As I spoke, I glanced at the ceiling and shivered – not from the breeze, but from the sight of a big water stain above the bed.
Yikes.No wonder he didn't mind bunking down with me in the tent.
Last night, of course, no tent had been needed. I'd slept alone in my double bed. And Griff? Apparently, he'd slept here.
I actually felt sorry for him.
I wasn't sure what stunned me more – that he was living so rough or that he didn't seem the least bit ashamed.
Looking away from the balcony, he said, "You should smell it when I don't."
I'd been so lost in my own thoughts that it took me a moment to recall that I'd just mentioned the open windows. I gave them another glance. There were three windows total, plus the balcony.
It was perfect for air-flow, so why did the place stink?I asked, "So you leave them open all the time?"
"Except when it's raining – or when there's rain in the forecast." He grimaced. "You should get a whiff of it then."
I shuddered to think.
His face registered concern. "You okay?"
"Yup. Totally fine." I was just reeling, that's all. This version of Griff didn't line up with any of the others I'd seen.
First, he'd been a random rich guy. Then, he'd been a hard worker. Finally, he'd been the guy who'd captured my heart.
And now?
Now he was living in a shack like someone on the run. I recalled Franny's half-baked theory – that Griff was some kind of hit-man in hiding. At the time, I'd considered it silly. And I still wasn't buying it, because for one thing, hit-men made a lot of money.