In that moment, with that single look, I’d known I was in trouble.
Casual was becoming a craving. We’d sailed past uncomplicated weeks ago. Whatever boundaries we’d erected had been destroyed. I’d peeled my life away from Skyler’s after eight years together. Eight years. Yet the idea of letting go of Griffin seemed impossible and it had only been a month.
As he’d stared at me and taken a sip from his beer, that sexy grin had widened. Griff had shifted to dig his phone from a pocket, and mine had dinged moments later with a text.
Come over when you’re done tonight.
That text had been hours ago. After the rodeo, my team had migrated to the park by the river, where the county firemen had set up a fireworks show. We’d had the area prepped earlier in the week, making sure there were ways for our cruisers and an ambulance to get in and out.
Like the parade and rodeo, I hadn’t gotten to watch much of the show. I’d caught the tail end of the finale, but that was only after chasing a group of teenagers away from the water, where they’d been vaping.
I hadn’t seen Griffin at the park, not that I’d had time to search him out. Soon after the park had emptied, I’d returned to the station and taken my scheduled patrol shift.
Apparently this was not something the former chief had done. When I’d rattled off the schedule at our prep meeting, including my name in the rotation, every officer but Mitch had given me a strange look.
So . . . no different than most days.
By rights, I should go home and crash. I hadn’t slept in my own bed for a week, opting for Griffin’s instead. But as I pulled out of the station’s parking lot, I aimed my wheels toward the Eden ranch.
The porch light was on when I parked outside Griff’s house. My eyelids were heavy and my footsteps leaden. I trudged up the stairs, expecting to find him in bed and asleep, but before I could touch the door handle, it opened.
“Hey.” His arms opened.
I fell into them, sagging against his strength. “Hi.”
“Everything go okay?”
“For the most part.”
“Any accidents?”
“No.” And I prayed when I woke up in the morning that would still be the case. Work had been my savior today. It had kept me from thinking of a summer night not unlike this one.
“Come to bed.” He kissed my hair.
“Okay, but you have to do all the work tonight.”
He chuckled, then bent and swept me into his arms.
Too tired to overthink it, I curled into his chest and let him carry me to the bedroom.
He stripped me out of my clothes but left my panties on. Then he yanked the T-shirt from his body and pulled it over my head. “Sleep.”
“Okay.”
I wanted sex. Tomorrow.
Tonight, I burrowed into the pillows, drawing in his scent, and only stayed awake long enough to feel his warm chest curl into my back. Then I crashed, grateful that tonight of all nights, I wasn’t alone.
I gasped awake. A silent cry tore at my throat. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see Griffin’s dark bedroom. The blood was too thick.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Please. Stop. The blood oozed.
Griffin shifted behind me but didn’t wake as I slid out from beneath his heavy arm and padded across the hardwood floor, closing the door to escape his bedroom.
I should have expected it. Tonight, I should have known there’d be a nightmare. But foolishly, I’d thought sheer exhaustion would win. That I’d sleep those last few hours of the day away.
The microwave clock showed 4:32. I’d slept an hour, at most. The faint rays of dawn lit up the horizon but stars still clung high in the sky.
Grabbing a throw from the couch, I made my way to the front door, easing it open to slip outside. The porch’s boards were cold against my bare feet, the rocking chair damp from the night’s dew. I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, then sank into the seat, letting the fresh morning air chase away the scent of death.
Griffin’s house sat in the center of a clearing. Trees surrounded it on every side, but they were far enough away that from the porch, I could see the mountain range in the distance. It jutted into the horizon, the peaks glowing with sunlight and snow. At their tips, the sky was a yellow so clear it was almost white.
Sunrise. A new day. The fifth of July. The mark of another year alone.
I missed them. I hoped I’d never stop.
“Hey.” Griff’s rugged voice cut through the quiet.
“Hey.” I turned, finding him at the door I hadn’t heard open. “You should go back to bed.”
He shook his head, his hair a mess, and stepped outside wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. He waved me out of the chair.
I couldn’t go back to sleep, not now. But he hadn’t slept any longer than I had, so I’d go back to bed and lie there until he drifted off, then sneak out to the porch again.
But when I stood, he didn’t lead me inside. Instead, he took the blanket from my shoulders, tossed it around his own, then stole my chair.
“Sit down.” He patted his lap. The fabric of his boxer briefs strained at the bulk of his bare thighs. The circles under his eyes said he’d had a long day yesterday too.
“You don’t have to stay out here.”
“Sit. Keep me warm.”
I sighed but settled into his lap, letting him circle me in his arms and snuggle us beneath the blanket. Then he started to rock the chair with slow, measured nudges of his foot. “Sorry to wake you.”
“You need to get some rest. You were on your feet all day yesterday. What’s going on?”
“Just a bad dream.”
“Want to talk about it?”
Yes. No. The nightmares had been my secret. My pain. Even when Skyler and I had lived together, I hadn’t told him why I’d woken up late at night. Though he had to have suspected what was going on, he hadn’t asked.
Because the dreams were real. They were massive. And he hadn’t been one for heavy lifting.
“I don’t want to burden you,” I said. “It seems like you carry a lot already.”
He tensed. The rocking stopped.
When I looked up, a crease marred the skin between his forehead. “What did I say?”
The tension on his face melted away. His arms held me tighter. “You might be the most intuitive person I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know about that.” I leaned my forehead against his shoulder. “Just an observation.”
He started rocking us again, and for a few minutes, the only sounds were his heartbeat and the birds in the trees, chirping their morning song. “I’m the oldest of my siblings. That’s always put me in a different position with my sisters. My youngest brother too. As little kids, they’d take their problems to Mom and Dad. The older they get, the more those problems come to me. Especially after I took over the ranch. I’m the role model. The mediator.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No.”
Because Griffin was the type of man who stood at the ready, always willing to heft the load.
“But it is a weight. I need to be here for them. I don’t want to let them down. And I don’t want to fail the ranch.”
“Is everything okay with the ranch?”