“Your family is incredible. You’re lucky to have them.”
“I am.” I nodded.
It was too soon to declare they’d be hers too. That tonight, each of my siblings had found a quiet moment, like Eloise had before falling asleep, to tell me they loved Winn.
“They’ve claimed you now.”
She locked her eyes with mine. “Have they? And what about you?”
“Oh, I claimed you a long time ago.” The night I’d met her at Willie’s. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but from that night on, she’d been mine.
“What are we doing, Griffin?”
“Thought it was sort of obvious.” Falling in love with her had been effortless.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I guess it is.”
I opened my mouth to say the words but hesitated. Not tonight. Not with my brothers and sisters outside, their laughter bouncing off the walls. Not when I hadn’t taken her on a first date.
The words would come in time.
So I dropped my lips to hers, starting with a slow tangle. The heat built gradually but with intensity, like the sun on a clear July day.
With clothes stripped, with her bare skin against mine, we came together. One slick slide of my body into hers, and there was nothing to keep us apart.
We didn’t need the words. Her eyes locked with mine as her toes curled into my calves, as her body trembled beneath mine.
We didn’t need the words.
For tonight, living them was enough.
Chapter Twenty
Winslow
“I’m going to go hang out with Pops for a while today,” I told Griffin as we ate breakfast at the kitchen island.
“I’ve got to head up to the south side of the ranch where we’ve got some horses grazing and make sure the creek still has enough water for them. If it’s too dry, and I suspect it’s getting that way given how hot it’s been all week, I’ll have to move them closer to a spring. Want to come with me?”
“How long will it take?”
“Probably most of the day.”
As wonderful as a Saturday spent with Griff on the ranch sounded, I hadn’t spent enough time with Pops in the past two weeks. Or at my own home. Since the night of the impromptu sibling dinner here, I hadn’t gone to my house for anything but five minutes to grab the mail.
“I’d better skip this one. I need to go to the house and clean. It’s dusty and stale. Maybe build that TV stand that’s been sitting in the box.”
“Or . . .” Griffin set his fork down, twisting in his seat to face me. “You don’t build the TV stand.”
“My television is on the floor.”
“But that one isn’t.” He pointed over my shoulder to the flat screen mounted above the living room’s fireplace.
“At some point, I’m going to want to watch TV at home and not have to sit on the floor so it’s at eye level.”
“How many minutes have you watched TV at your place in the last month?”
“Zero.”
“Exactly.”
“But I already bought the stand. Why wouldn’t I build it?”
“Because you don’t need it.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Winslow.” My name, stated in a way that sounded like I was missing the point.
“Griffin.”
“You watch TV here. You sleep here. Your stuff’s all over the bathroom and your clothes are covering the closet floor.”
“I need to do laundry.”
“Yeah, and when you do that laundry, it’s going to be in the washer and dryer right down that hallway.” He nodded toward the laundry room.
“Do you not want me to use the washer and dryer?”
“No.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s yours. Just like the bathroom’s yours. The bedroom. The closet floor. This kitchen. That TV. This house is yours.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
He laughed again, fitting his wide palm to the nape of my neck. “Think it over. You want to keep your place in town for a while, that’s fine by me. You want to get it listed before summer’s over and the market has its seasonal dip, then we’ll get ahold of your realtor and bring the horse trailer to town to move everything out here.”
My jaw hit the floor as he slid off his stool, kissed my forehead and disappeared toward the bedroom, probably to find some socks so he could go on about his day.
Did he just ask me to move in? To live here? Actually, no. He hadn’t asked. There hadn’t been a single question mixed in with his string of brain-scrambling statements.
Did I want to move in? Yes. I loved this house. I loved the comfort that came with turning off the highway and onto his quiet gravel road. I loved sunsets on the porch and waking in Griffin’s arms.
But it was too soon, wasn’t it? I’d lived with Skyler for years. I’d just separated my life from another man’s. And I did love my little house in town.
That cute, charming little house with the red door that I’d neglected for weeks and weeks.
Griffin, his feet in socks, snuck up on me, still frozen on my stool.
I waved him off when he reached for our plates. “I’ll clean up.”
“Okay.” He kissed my hair. “See you later. Dinner?”
I nodded.
“Have a good day, baby.”
“You too,” I murmured, the words coming on autopilot.
It wasn’t until he was out the door and the rumble of his truck vanished that I shook myself out of my own head and loaded the dishwasher. Then I went to the bedroom and grabbed a load of laundry.
I worked around the house for a couple of hours, waiting to transfer my clothes to the dryer. I dusted the living room. I vacuumed the bedrooms. I mopped the floors.
Should I move in? Maybe that question was unnecessary.
Every pair of panties I owned was beneath this roof. Most were in the hamper, or the vicinity of the hamper. But the others were stowed in a drawer in the closet. He’d given me three drawers, half of the dresser. The same was true in the bathroom.
I cleaned. I brought groceries here after work. The Durango was parked out front whenever I was on duty and driving the station’s Explorer. All that was missing was my mail in the mailbox.
Except I knew that if this fell apart, I had a place to go.
Deep down, maybe that was the problem. Maybe that was the reason I couldn’t find myself immediately saying yes.
Because he still hadn’t said those critical three words. Neither had I.
Each time he kissed me, each time he made love to me, I felt them.
So why couldn’t I give them a voice?
By the time the dryer dinged and my clean clothes were in a drawer or hanging on a closet rod, I still wasn’t sure what to do. So I headed into town to visit the man whose bear hugs always grounded my feet.
Pops opened the front door to his house before I’d even shut off my Durango. When I stepped out, he held up a hand, halting my steps on the sidewalk. “Now I’m going to warn you right now, Winnie. I had bacon for breakfast. The house and my clothes reek of it. I know it’s not on the diet plan, but dang it, I’m going to have it once a week. Maybe twice.”