His fingertips apply light pressure against mine as he moves the brush with me in the direction of the lines. I can barely register what we’re doing because the only thing I can think of is how good it feels to be doing this with Griffin.
How good his hand feels around mine.
Everything that’s led to this moment only confirms the idea ofsomethingwith him swirling in my head. He’s shown me that behind that rugged exterior, he cares.
He ran to my house in the rain when he thought something was killing me, when it was really just a moose.
He came back to my house after I fell off my deck, tending to my knee when I didn’t even realize I needed it.
And he built me this entire deck.
As we move farther down the deck rail, a rock catches on my sneaker and I lose my footing, forcing my back to collide with his chest. My breath hitches as I feel his every muscle against me, his arms preventing my fall. My body freezes in his small embrace, and I turn my head to meet his gaze. I’m taken aback by the intensity of his gaze, a kaleidoscope of blues that seems to pierce through me. He looks down at my lips, then back up, holding my attention.
Is he going to kiss me?
Does he want to kiss me?
Do Iwanthim to kiss me?
Yes. I want all of it. I want to know what it would feel like kissing Griffin Barlow in the worst way possible.
His throat bobs before he lifts my body to a full standing position, averting his gaze to the deck. When he steps away from me completely, I feel cold and embarrassed for even thinking he wanted to kiss me.
“This color is going to look good on this,” he says, refusing to look at me.
“It is,” I say, pushing down my flustered thoughts.
I move to pick up the second bristle brush and get to work on some of the vertical pieces of the deck while he moves to work on another area of the deck, putting distance between us.
The faster this project is done, the faster I can get inside and away from this intense feeling of being around him.
I’m not sure what I was thinking.
CHAPTER 21
ARE YOU ASKING ME ON A DATE, GRIFFIN BARLOW?
Griffin
What the hell was I thinking?
For the past two hours, I’ve been wrestling with the idea of leaving Blair to finish the deck on her own.
Like a fucking coward.
Because I’ve allowed myself to get too close to the woman and skip out on work this afternoon—which I never do—to do this with her. I’ve allowed myself to feel something I didn’t want to feel with her. That I wish Ineverfelt.
My pulse has been in overdrive since coming back from the General Store. It didn’t help that I decided to show her by pressing my body against hers, keeping her hand in mine as I showed her stroke for stroke how to properly stain the deck before she tripped on a rock and fell right into my arms.
The urge to kiss her was overwhelming.
Right then and there, I wanted to lean in and claim her lips.
And because I’m so fucked up in the head, I only thought about how kissing her would open me up to the potential heartbreak when she decides that Bluestone Lakes isn’t where she wants to spend her life. Nan claims she’s here for good, but none of us know that for sure.
I haven’t run off to my house because I don’t want to.
Ask me to understand the turmoil in my brain and I won’t have an answer, becausesheis my turmoil now.
