He shrugged. “I agreed with Nash and Dixon that the important part was to show, not to tell.”
“What in the world are you doing listening to those two about women?” Morgan tossed back her head and groaned, then shook her fist at the sky for good measure. “I mean, Dixon somehow miraculously found Fiona, but that really was a shock to the system. And Nash? Whew. I love the man, but if he keeps ‘well actually-ing’ women, he’s gonna end up with one less ball.”
“Is there a point you’re trying to make?”
“Hello.” She jumped up from the deck and whirled around to glare at him. “You have me! Your sister. Who is a woman and understands women.”
“You aren’t part of the bet,” he grumbled.
“Withering” didn’t begin to describe the look his sister gave him. Somehow she managed to express annoyance, disappointment, and disbelief all with one lift of an eyebrow and tilt of her head. “Again, because I am not Nash or Dixon. Oh my God, what were you guys thinking with that ridiculous bet?”
“Nash is up to something.” There was a reason why he’d suggested the bet. Beyond everything else, Nash never did anything without a very specific end goal in mind. That Griff still hadn’t figured out what it was just went to show the impact Kinsey coming into his life had had. “Why are you here, Morgan?”
She crossed her arms and stuck out her hip, dialing up the withering to ten. “To smack some sense into you before you go down the Holden Beckett path of lubricated assholery.”
He flinched. “I’m nothing like our dad.”
“Are you shitting me?” She laughed so hard, she had to wipe away tears after she got ahold of herself. “You’re not a narcissist, but you sure did play the testosterone control-freak He-Man like Dad does with Kinsey, making decisions for her life without her input.”
That was utter bullshit. He was nothing like his dad. The old man was controlling, snide, and telling everyone that he knew exactly what they were doing wrong and how to fix it. The perfect example of which popped into Griff’s head without him even having to think about it.
“Like when he picked your college major for you and scheduled all your classes your freshman year?” he asked.
“Or when you decided that you’d break up with Kinsey to fix things at her work rather than ask her how you guys could handle it together?” she shot back without hesitation.
He ground his molars together, pulverizing the enamel. No. That wasn’t fair. “Her job makes her happy, and I just want her to be happy.”
“No. You thought you knew what was best for her without asking,” Morgan said, the sympathy in her tone doing nothing to lessen the one-two punch of her words that made a roundhouse from Mac in the ring seem like a love tap. “You’re just as bad as the assholes who take one look at her, see a cute blonde with big boobs, and decide she’s gotta have a box of rocks in her head.”
Griff curled his hands around the ends of the arm of the Adirondack chair, his frustration making his grip tight enough that the wood bit into his palms. “I’m nothing like them.”
“Yeah, well, maybe she should be the one to decide what makes her happy. And if you’re lucky enough to have that be you in her life, don’t fuck it up again by trying to make her decisions for her.”
“I did what I did because Dad gave me a heads up what was going to happen to her at work if I didn’t let her go.”
“Oh my God, Griff. Why do you ever listen to that bitter old man?” She sighed and looked up at the stars that were so much brighter out here than in Harbor City. “Kinsey was wrongly accused of industrial espionage and fired, and it had absolutely nothing to do with you. Her boss was shady as fuck all on his own. Regardless, though, you broke up with her to prevent her from being fired and she got fired anyway, so how smart was that plan?”
Griff froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Kinsey must be devastated to lose her dream job. And then another thought slammed into him. “That asshole isn’t threatening to have her arrested, is he?”
“No, he told her if she went away quietly, he would ‘spare her the embarrassment.’” She added air quotes around the last bit with sarcasm, but Griff’s mind was already running through possible scenarios.
If her boss had any real proof, he would most assuredly press charges. Which meant there was nothing irrefutable connecting her to the leak. Her boss was likely counting on Kinsey tucking her tail and running. Well, the guy didn’t know his Kinsey if he thought that woman would ever back down from a fight. “I hope Kinsey gives him hell and sues him for wrongful termination and slander.”
“Griff, I love you. I will always love you and be here for you, but I will never forgive you if you let my best friend go through all of this alone. You made matters worse, not better, when you decided to break it off with her. You left her to fight this trumped-up accusation alone, her support from you gone, and dealing with a broken heart on top of this shitty job. And now she feels she has no choice but to go back home, surround herself with people who love her and believe in her.” She laid her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Believe me, all of this hurts now, but it’s going to be so much worse when you wake up one morning and realize it’s too late to fix any of it.”
Morgan dropped a kiss on the top of his head, then turned and walked back toward Gable House, the motion-sensor lights turning on as she made her way back to their grandmother’s home. Griff watched until the light closest to the back door went on and then clicked off, letting out the breath he always held until he knew someone he loved was safe.
Morgan was wrong. His dad hadn’t given him bad advice. What had happened with Kinsey was for the best for her.
It had to be, or he’d made the worst mistake of his life by making her go.
Chapter Forty-Six
Griff
The next day, Griff was back home, shut up in his Lego room, looking at the three-thousand-plus individual bricks that would come together to make the Eiffel Tower, but he wasn’t building. The one thing that had always kept one side of his brain busy while the other side worked out the six or seven problems he was dealing with at the moment wasn’t working this time.
He looked over his shoulder at the painting of a man buried under a pile of online shopping delivery boxes from his date night across the harbor. The stupid thing was called Unpack Your Feelings, but despite the Paint and Sip guy’s talk about excessive consumerism in place of actual connections, it would always be The Kiss to Griff.
One glance at that painting and all he could think about was the taste of cheap wine on Kinsey’s lips when she’d kissed him silly. The drive home when it had taken everything he’d had to stop from pulling over in the lot of the outlet mall they’d passed, finding a dark corner to park in, and fucking her until they could both breathe again. He’d made it home to their building’s garage instead, and Jesus, the way she’d looked when she’d come all over his hand. It was imprinted on his brain forever—as was the sound of her laugh, the way she loved to tease him, and the absolutely fucking impressive way her brain worked. She wasn’t perfect, but damn, she was perfect for him.