As for Devon, he looked ready to piss himself.
Even so, he didn't turn to look. He was staring in the opposite direction, like a kid, thinking that if he ignored the monster under his bed, it would surely go away.
My gaze bounced from Griff to Devon and back again. Trying for a smile, I lifted my hand and gave Griff a tentative wave. He didn't wave back, but he did move forward, prowling steadily closer like a man who knew exactly how this would end.
As for myself, I had no idea.But I trusted Griff a lot more than I trusted Devon. The realization left me feeling slightly unsettled as I watched Griff close the distance.
Devon, with obvious reluctance, finally turned to look. His face was pale, but his voice came out weirdly hearty as he said with a wobbly smile, "Oh, hey."
Griff didn't answer. He just walked to the counter and set down the box – carefully, deliberately – like it might explode. Water dripped from his fingers as he straightened and eyed Devon in total silence.
With an awkward laugh, Devon said, "Sorry, I didn't see you come in."
Griff's expression could've cut ice. "Obviously." He wasn't glaring, exactly. But it was the kind of look that carried the weight of a well earned threat.
Devon stumbled backward before regaining his composure enough to blurt out, "Some weather, huh?"
My gaze shifted to Griff. His hair was wet, clinging to his forehead in tousled strands, like he'd walked straight out of a Calvin Klein ad. His black T-shirt was soaked through, clinging to the hard lines of his chest and shoulders. And his expression? Pure thundercloud. Wet, angry, and stupidly hot.
I swallowed hard as a ridiculous flutter danced in my chest.
A few feet away, Devon swallowed, too – except in his case, it sounded more like a gulp. He gave Griff a nervous glance. "Anyway…we were just catching up."
Griff's reply was low and flat. "Is that so?"
"Yeah," Devon said. "I stopped by to, um…" He tugged at his shirt collar like it had suddenly shrunk. "…invite you for coffee."
Griff's eyebrows lifted. "Me, huh?" He flicked his head toward the door. "Sure, let's go."
Devon coughed out a weak chuckle. "Sorry, I meant both of you. Of course." With extra gusto, he added, "With Sierra. You know, like a double date."
The silence that followed was somehow louder than the rain.
Griff's gaze shifted to me, and his voice held a hint of amusement as he said, "So, Babe. What do you think of that?" The word "babe" sounded obscenely good on his lips, sending a bolt of heat to my lower stomach and other parts I didn't dare name.
As for the rest, I didn't know what to think – except that Devon was a total weasel and Griff wasn't buying the double-date story for a single minute.
I looked to Devon. "I think we'll pass."
Devon shrugged like it was no big deal. "No pressure. But hey, if money's the problem, we're willing to treat."
What a jerk.It's not like we'd been invited to a fancy dinner. EvenIcould afford coffee, and surely Griff could, too. I glared across the counter. "Is that so?"
Utterly oblivious, Devon replied, "Sure. No problem." He looked to Griff, and his voice became smug. "I mean, it's the least we can do. The wayIhear it, you're not even getting paid."
I opened my mouth to say something sharp, but Griff just smiled, cold and slow. When he spoke, his voice was pure ice. "The thing is, I don't mind working for free." He leaned closer to Devon. "And you know what's great about that?"
Devon took a small step backward. "Uh…no?"
Griff's smile widened. "It means, I've got nothing to lose."
Devon frowned. "What?"
"Yeah," Griff said. "And these clothes…I don't give two shits if they get dirty."
Devon's voice came out a squeak. "Dirty?"
"Yeah. Sweat, grease…" His look turned lethal. "Or whatever."
