“Can’t you hire some help?”
“I enjoy working the lunch shift,” he says.Finally, some words. “It’s always regulars and it’s a shorter shift. I’m better off not dealing with the evening crowd. They are a bit too rowdy for my liking. Basically, I avoid being there if I’m not scheduled to be. If I can help it, at least.”
I think that was the most consecutive words I’ve heard him say at once before.
Impressive.
Hot.
His voice is smooth and sexy.
Stop it, Blair.
“What made you name it Seven Stools?”
“Next time you come in, count how many stools you find at the bar,” he answers with a straight face.
“Did you just crack a joke, Angry Cowboy?”
He still doesn’t laugh.
Tough crowd.
“I, for one, thought that was funny and will be visiting your establishmentverysoon to confirm this.”
I really believed my sense of humor would make him laugh or, hell, crack a smile. But no success there.
Next thing I know, we’re pulling up to my house.
By pulling up, I mean he stops in the middle of the road to let me out. I’m not mad about it because not only did he pick me up, but he actually had some kind of conversation with me. It’s all a good start.
“Thanks again for the ride,” I say with a smile just before slamming the door, turning on my heel, and walking across the driveway.
Just as my foot hits the first step of my deck, he beeps thehorn. Whipping my head around, he leans over the center console to shout out the passenger window.
“Seven miles.”
“Huh?”
“You ran seven miles today.”
A grin spreads across my face as he drives away.
Leaving my heart beating faster than it was on my run. Because Griffin Barlow does have a heart.
CHAPTER 13
WE CAN PUT A PIN IN THAT FOR NOW.
Griffin
Eugene
Your mom would like to know if you’d like to come over for dinner one day this week.
Eugene
It’s been a while.
