I’m spending the day with Griffin.
He’s staying here to help me finish the deck.
It’s just strange, considering when I first got here, I thought he couldn’t stand me. I swear he was avoiding me for so long by spending his mornings leaving the house, working during the day, and then still not coming home until the late hours of the night.
Uh, yeah. I’m embarrassed by how much I watched him.
Finally answering the door, I’m greeted with the unfazed face he always wears, paired with his signature flannel rolled up at the sleeves. I feel warmth spread through my body instantly because he makes flannels look so damn good. I almost want to tell him to never roll the sleeves down.
But what really makes the whole ensemble is the dark brown cowboy hat that only brings out the deep blues of his eyes. A combination I could find myself lost in if I’m not careful.
I clear my throat, breaking myself from the trance he’s put me in already. “Morning.”
“Good morning,” he replies with a nod. “Ready to stain this thing?”
My hand flies to my chest, and I gasp. “Did Griffin Barlow just say more than one word?In a row?I feel blessed, and it’s only nine in the morning.”
I swear I see the corner of his lip faintly twist in a grin, but it’s hard to confirm because I’ve yet to see the man actually smile with anyone. Not with his sister when I spotted him at the General Store and not the times I’ve gone to Seven Stools with Lily for lunch.
“Let’s go pick out a color for this deck,” he says, looking down at the wood.
“I’m ready,” I say, grabbing my cross-shoulder purse and bending down to pet my dog’s head. “Reginald, be a good boy. You can’t come with me today, so stay here.”
Reginald barks in response.
“You take him everywhere with you?” Griffin asks from just outside the front door.
I smile in his direction while still petting Reginald’s head, and I nod. “He’s really not as bad as you think.”
Griffin looks from me to the dog before looking back at me.
“You want to bring him with us?”
I stand up, mouth open in shock that he’s even offering when it seems like he can’t stand dogs. Lily has mentioned it and the way he demanded Reginald stay off his property told me everything I needed to know.
“You…want me to bring him? Like, in your truck? And to the store with us?” I rattle off the questions while my heart thrums in my chest.
He gives me a curt nod.
Without reading too much into it, I reach for Reginald’s leash, and he barks in response.
“You want to go for a drive, buddy?” I ask my dog, using my best puppy voice.
That earns me another bark and a rapid wag of his tail before he jumps up on my leg and starts spinning in circles in excitement.
A laugh bubbles from my chest. “Okay. Okay. But you have to be an extra good boy.”
Reginald sits and opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out and panting in response before I hook the leash up to his collar and guide him out the door.
Once in the truck, Griffin’s manly scent envelops me, and I feel dazed and lightheaded at the wild turn of events. Mostly because I never expected this man to do any of this. Not only offering to help me but being so welcoming to allow my dog to come with us for this mini adventure.
If that’s what you want to call it.
Reginald sits up tall on my lap, resting his paws on the armrest of the door, looking at the views out the window. Griffin surprises me yet again when he rolls the window down for him. Mostly because I’m shocked this ancient truck even has power windows.
His tail wags a mile a minute, and his little ears fall back from the wind in his face. I can’t help the laughter that I allow to come to the surface despite feeling nervous in Griffin’s space.
I look over at Griffin, who has one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear stick. His head snaps straight ahead as if I just caught him staring at me and he didn’t want me to notice.
