Chapter 25

It’s been an unforgettable weekend. What started out as me mourning my vacation with Griffin has turned into lovable baby time with Morgan and a night of laughter with my family. I don’t have to marry Griffin to call his family mine. I love them. I love him for making last night happen when he could have been pissed that I didn’t go.

He’s always thinking of me.

However, all the fun and laughter is about to end as the back door opens. My boss is home.

Hand over the baby and get out.

“Hey …” Nate sets his suitcase on the floor and goes straight to the sink to wash his hands, depositing a bouquet of flowers on the counter.

I bounce Morgan in my arms. She has a few drunk-on-milk smiles for her daddy. It calms my nerves, but just a little.

Hand over the baby and get out.

“Trade.” He holds out the flowers to me.

I take them as he takes Morgan. “These are for me?” I don’t mean to sound so breathless, but once again he’s taken all the oxygen from the room.

“For staying.”

I shake my head. “I thought the five grand was for staying.”

“The money is business. The flowers are personal. I know you didn’t stay just for the money. You stayed because you care for Morgan.”

I shrug, but I don’t look at him. I can’t. “I stayed for the money.”

I stayed for Morgan. Who am I kidding? I stayed for Nate because he needed me.

Fuck.

I shouldn’t have stayed. My mom is my family. Griffin is my family. His parents and sisters are my family. Nate and Morgan are not my family. I need to remember this.

“Well…” he clears his throat “…you’re good at what you do.”

I nod, keeping my gaze on the flowers. My feet won’t move. They’re rooted to the floor. Nate holds me captive without touching me. The force of his past is greater than my strength to walk away. It won’t let go.

“She’s out,” he whispers.

I glance up. Morgan’s asleep on his shoulder. I knew she was getting close.

“Don’t go yet.” His gaze locks with mine for a few moments before he carries Morgan to her room.

This is my chance to run. I should. Nothing good can come from the two of us alone. But my legs won’t work.

His shadowy figure ghosts toward me. I will never let this be more than an unspoken thought, but I love looking at Nate—the one in my head, the one in the picture, and the one before me. And it breaks. My. Heart.

I love Griffin so completely. He’s everything. What’s left when you have everything?

Nothing.

That’s the logical answer. That should be the only answer. But the rules of reason don’t apply to me because I see things I shouldn’t see, I know things I shouldn’t know, and the answer to what’s left when I have everything is … Nate Hunt.

He walks with this swagger that’s unintentional. That’s just him. He’s quietly confident. When he stops in front of me, once again invading my space, I suck in a silent breath. He doesn’t speak. It’s as if his proximity says it all—he thinks I’m her. He would stand this close to her. She would let him.

“I think you miss your wife,” I whisper, staring at our bare feet an inch from touching.

“Terribly.”

His response grips my heart.

“I think you miss Daisy.”

“More than words.”

The hair on the back of my neck shoots up.

“Nate …” My chin inches higher until our eyes meet. “I’m afraid of what’s going to happen when you realize I’m not her.”

He cups the side of my face with his hand. I can’t breathe. If he kisses me, I will shatter.

“I’m afraid of what will happen when you realize you are her.” He closes the space between us.

Don’t kiss me.

Kiss me.

Don’t.

Do …

He brings my cheek to his chest the way he did in the garage, but this time his lips press to my head. Griffin’s girlfriend doesn’t want to kiss Nate, but the girl who wants to know why Nate lives in her head—that girl wonders if a kiss would bring the past to life, bring clarity to confusion.

I don’t hug him, but I want to.

I don’t speak because there are no words for this.

I live in his embrace until he releases me. And when he does, I rest my palms on his chest to steady myself. It’s there, in our touch—undeniable—like I’ve touched him a million times. That’s why he thinks I’m her.

Nate gives me a sad smile when my eyes shift to meet his. “The memories you have … they’re not mine. They’re hers—they’re yours.”

I shake my head slowly.

“Yes.” He grabs my wrists as I start to step away and presses them back to his chest. “Everything you know about me is what Morgan knew. You know what she saw. You know what I shared with her. You know what my dad shared with her about the hockey camp. You say things that she said. You called the birthmark on my stomach a heart—she’s the only one who ever said that. I don’t know how … but you have her memories of me. And I don’t know why you don’t remember her—or you—in that life, but …”

“I have to go.” I take a step back without moving my hands from his chest. I’m connected to this man in a way that defies all logic.

His chin dips as we both stare at my hands on his chest.

Undefinable.

Magnetic.

Life-altering.

Slowly. Painfully. I fist my hands and drop them to my sides. “What time tomorrow?” I whisper.

“Six.”

I nod. “Goodnight, Professor.”

*

We don’t speak of Daisy for the rest of the week. I keep the photo in my pocket. Of course, I don’t know why. My Don’t Know List has grown exponentially in the past few months. For someone who started life intellectually advanced, I have fallen into a dark hole of the unknown.

I know Nate holds a part of me I never knew existed. But after a week, I also know that I don’t function well without Griffin. He called me from someone else’s phone three days ago to let me know his phone was stolen. I haven’t talked with him since.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” Sherri hands me a plate of food. It smells good, but my appetite died when I lost contact with Griffin.

“You really didn’t need to do this.” I give her a guilty smile.

His family and my mom helped me move my stuff into his house yesterday. Now they’re serving me dinner at “our” house while we wait for his arrival, which is uncertain since no one has talked to him in three days.

“Your nerves are palpable, Swayze. He asked us to keep an eye on you and that’s what we’re doing. You’re family.”

I force a smile and rearrange the food on my plate with my fork, eating at most three peas and one bite of chicken. The past week messed with my head, making me question my existence, my identity, my purpose. Griffin grounds me. I find the best version of myself rooted in his love. Thinking of Nate loving Jenna and Daisy the same way I love Griffin is unbearable.

“I should have gone.” I push back my chair and stand, shoving my fingers through my hair. “He should be here. Why isn’t he here? Why didn’t he get a new phone? Why … Gah! I’m going crazy. Motorcycles are dangerous. He’s a sitting duck on the road surrounded by idiots on their cell phones or drunk … or falling asleep at the wheel or—”

“Hear that? He’s here.” Scott grins at me as I have a full-fledged meltdown in front of him and Sherri.

“He’s here?” I whisper, frozen in place as I listen.

The familiar rumble grows louder.

Scott holds the door open for me. Smart man. I will mow over anyone who stands in my way.

My heart explodes as Griff eases off his motorcycle and pulls off his helmet. Over six feet of leather covered muscles, a week’s worth of beard, the whitest smile, and sable eyes are about to get tackled by five feet six inches of crazy love.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He grins, tugging at the fingers to his gloves, but I’m not waiting another second to be in his arms. “Oof!” He catches me, wobbling a bit to keep from stumbling back into his bike.

“I can breathe again,” I whisper into his ear. My senses devour him. There’s a million things I want to say, but my mouth needs his. My appetite has returned.

He gives me everything right in front of his parents. It’s probably not the most polite thing to do, but I don’t have time for manners.

I. Need. This. Man.

His tongue dives into my mouth. One hand cups my ass and the other fists my hair. A low growl vibrates his chest as he deepens the kiss. I missed him asking about my days. I missed watching him work in his garage. I missed him cooking for me. But more than anything, I missed my lover.

“You should have been with me …” he says between labored breaths, resting his forehead against mine, hand still fisted in my hair like he needs to reclaim what’s his.

Just as breathless, I nod my head against his. “Yes. I should have.”

Sherri clears her throat. “Should we come back in an hour or so?”

Griffin and I both grin at each other.

“We’re not old like you guys,” he says. “Hours. We need hours … maybe all night.”

My skin heats to a blood-red shade of complete embarrassment.

Scott chuckles. “Chip off the old block.”

Kill me now.

“Since when?” Sherri laughs.

Griffin lowers me to my feet.

“I have cobbler and ice cream.” Sherri gives Griffin a hug when I step back.

I don’t need the cobbler, but ice cream sounds perfect. Things feel pretty hot between me and Mr. Sex in Leather. I want to peel every inch of it off him and lick him like a—”

“Hungry, Swayz?” Griffin nods toward the house, holding a bag in each hand.

I nod, watching his parents go inside. “More than you can imagine.”

He struts his sexiness in front of me. “Oh, I’m pretty fucking sure I can imagine.”

I want to pounce on his back, tackle him to the ground, and have him in a hundred different ways right here on the lawn. But, I don’t. Instead, we have cobbler and ice cream. Sherri and Scott gave me the impression they knew what Griffin and I needed, and it’s not ice cream and cobbler. Yet here we sit, across from each other in the living room, talking about the trip while eating ice cream and cobbler.

I don’t want ice cream and cobbler. I want to scream while riding Griffin’s face and his cock and—

“Swayze’s boss lives in the most exquisite house. Have you seen it yet?” Sherri asks Griffin.

When did we get on this topic? Probably between Griffin’s teeth teasing my nipples and his tongue circling my clit. Best daydream I’ve had in a long time. But the mention of Nate ruins my moment.

“I have not.” Griffin gives me a slight grin, tight lipped and uneasy.

“You will. I want you to meet the professor and Morgan. You’ll like them.” This is code for I don’t want to talk about “Nate” so let’s stick to “Professor” and his daughter so as soon as your parents leave we can fuck like rabbits on crack instead of playing twenty questions about my time at “Nate’s.”

What is my deal? I have never been this mad for sex. When did it become such a drug to me? Oh yeah … the day I met my grocery store guy.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Calloway, I love you to pieces. I want to be your daughter-in-law someday soon, but would you please please please leave so I can do really kinky stuff with your son?

“Do you like his house better than ours?” Griffin’s lips purse slightly as his eyes narrow.

If he knew where my mind is at the moment, he wouldn’t give a shit about what I think of Nate’s house.

I shrug. “Four walls and a roof. It’s what you do to make it a home that matters.” Like fucking me against these four walls.

Whoa!

I’m a mess. My mind doesn’t crawl around in the gutter like this. What’s happening? Was there something in the food? No. I barely ate. The ice tea did taste a little different. Maybe someone slipped an aphrodisiac into it. No. That can’t be … Sherri doesn’t look like she’s ready to dry hump Scott’s leg.

This is all Nate. He’s messed with my head. The way he looks at me. The things he says. It’s twisted my thoughts. Nightmares. Sex dreams. I’m not myself. I don’t know who I am. But I know I’m ready to orgasm just looking at Griffin. I smell him like a bloodhound in heat.

“You look flushed. Are you feeling okay?” Sherri’s head cocks to the side, concern etched into her forehead.

“Um …”

“Were you allergic to something in the cobbler?” She gets me a glass of water.

An allergic reaction? Maybe. I’ve never had one. I thought allergic reactions caused swelling … well, my breasts feel heavy and so does a certain area between my legs. “I … maybe I should go lie down. I am feeling a little feverish.”

I gulp down half of the water and stand.

Griffin grabs my wrist, but I can’t look at him. I pull out of his hold. “Thank you for dinner and dessert. And helping me move my stuff. You’ve been amazing.”

I feel Griffin’s scrutinizing gaze, but I don’t acknowledge it. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Scott and Sherri say.

Oh sweet mother of mercy, even walking is painfully stimulating. There’s no way I look flushed, not when every ounce of blood has merged between my legs. I take a left into the bedroom, strip off my shirt—because holy hell it’s hot in here—remove my leggings, and crack the bedroom window, desperate for the cool air to hit my skin.

One breath.

Another breath.

It’s not working.

Voices mumble, but I can’t make sense of them past the thundering of my pulse. I close my eyes and block out everything except what I need. My hand slides down the front of my panties.

“God …” I pant, sliding my middle finger over that little bundle of nerves.

“Fuck me, baby …”

All the muscles in my body clench as I jump, eyes flying open. I make a quick move to pull my hand out of my panties. Griffin arrests my attempt, covering my hand with his and sliding them both back under the white, lacy-edged cotton.

Turned on.

Embarrassed.

Ready to die.

Seconds from exploding.

I don’t know which feeling demands my attention the most.

Flecks of gold and brown sear me as Griffin’s gaze holds mine a few seconds before his head dips, lips brushing my ear. “Spread your legs more,” he whispers, guiding my fingers beneath his. “Let’s make you come.”

All of those feelings bleed into each other when his mouth takes mine. We communicate in deep moans and the slide of our hands, the tip of my pelvis, the commanding hold he has on the back of my head.

His tongue flicks mine, teasing it over and over, making me feel it lower … so much lower. My knees buckle. Breath hitches. Eyes roll back.

This unraveled, completely intoxicated feeling leaves me paralyzed. He steps back, putting the wall in charge of keeping me upright.

“You have never looked sexier.” He grins, eyes roving the length of my body as he pulls off his bandana revealing short, dark hair.

I love him shaven and smooth, but I love him with thick dark shadows covering his head and face too. Griffin does it for me any way.

He loses the white tee next, gaze affixed to something below my belly. My hand is still in my panties, resting there like it’s a pocket. I’m that out of it. I slide it up.

“Don’t you dare.” He shakes his head, bending down to remove his black boots.

Leather pants.

Black briefs.

They pile up beside him as my eyes get reacquainted with his tattoos, the lines of his muscles, and the steely erection begging for my mouth.

He frowns in disapproval at my hand leaving my panties as I step toward him.

“Don’t give me that look, Griff.” I push his chest once.

He takes a step backwards.

“No more games. You have somewhere you need to be.” I shove him again.

He surrenders, easing back onto the bed. “Where’s that?”

I crawl over him, ghosting my lips over his skin, my tongue tracing the length of his erection.

He groans, flexing his hips.

“Here.” I kiss his pecs, up his neck, and hover over his lips. He’s hard and warm in my hand. I stroke him a few times until his eyes leaden. “This is where you need to be.” Sinking onto him, I close my eyes.

Before I can relish the illusion of control that he’s given me, he grips my hips and rolls us over, pinning me to the mattress. For the rest of the night I don’t think of the girl I’m not, the woman I am, or the memories that don’t belong in my head. It’s just me and my grocery store guy doing what I’m certain we do better than anyone.