She's My Kind of Girl (9 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Darcy was miserable.

She'd been home ten days, it was the night before Christmas Eve, and all she wanted was to see Griffin.

Her friend Lydia had scored an invite to the hottest holiday party of the season. A party Darcy had been excited about and couldn't wait to go to, but she'd canceled, pleading a stomach bug.

She couldn't handle going out. She couldn't stand the thought of getting dressed up, partying, or any of that nonsense. Everything seemed too crowded. And there were no stars in the sky. No open spaces.

And no Griff.

Since she'd been home, she'd tried to throw herself into work, but she kept drifting off, thinking of that last time with Griffin and how right he felt. How being with him felt like home.

So here she sat, alone, drinking red wine and watching snow fall over the city as she cried.

She looked at her phone, and all she wanted was to call him. To hear his voice. But she couldn't do that. If she did, she'd crumble.

She tried to work up some righteous anger that he was being unreasonable. That it wasn't fair to expect her to give up her life for him. But it wouldn't stick. She didn't blame him. How could she?

He belonged in Revival. He was the mayor. He had friends and family there. He had a life and a career, and the truth was she couldn't imagine him living in New York.

He'd hate it.

And she couldn't ask it. Wouldn't.

She wanted to call him. She wanted to know how he was. Wanted to hear news about him. Was desperate for it. She couldn't call her mom; all that would do is give her false hope.

Instead, on impulse she called Gracie Roberts. Maybe just hearing his name, that he was alive and surviving, would help ease the ache in her chest.

The phone rang three times before Gracie picked up.

At the sound of her voice, Darcy's eyes filled with tears. She croaked out, “Gracie? It's Darcy.”

“Oh no,” Gracie said, her tone concerned. “Are you okay?”

A sob escaped. “No.”

“Hang on one minute.” There was muffled talking over the line, then movement, before Gracie came back on. “Sorry about that. I'm glad you called.”

Darcy blinked as tears streamed down her face. “I don't know why I did. I just . . . I . . . need . . .” She trailed off, unable to speak.

“You need to know about Griffin?” Gracie finished for her, somehow understanding exactly what Darcy wanted.

“Yes.”

There was a pause before Gracie spoke. “What do you want me to say? Do you want the truth? Or is there something you want to hear?”

“The truth.” She squeezed her eyes shut and realized the fervent hope in her heart was he was as miserable as she was. How terrible was she? She didn't want him miserable. She wanted him happy. With her.

Gracie sighed. “You know men, they never talk about anything. But I can assure you he's not great.”

Darcy started to cry in earnest. Embarrassed by her behavior, wishing she hadn't called, she said, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't be bothering you. I-I-I miss him.”

“Of course you do. Can I ask you something?”

Darcy nodded and hiccupped. “Yes.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I can't stay and he can't go.”

“Why?”

The simple, straightforward question stilled something inside her. Shifting her perception. “Revival isn't my home anymore. And Griffin is mayor.”

“It's not easy. I won't pretend it is. The question is if it's worth it.” There was a sound over the line, before Gracie spoke again. “I know New York is halfway across the country and not quite the same, but I do get it. James and I split time between Chicago and Revival and I won't lie, it's hard. Sometimes I'm exhausted and I want to give up. Sometimes I just want to come home to Revival and go back to the calm my life used to be before I decided to go fall in love with a professor who lives in Chicago and open a bakery. Sometimes James doesn't want to pick up everything on his break and come to Revival. Sometimes we're forced to be apart because of work priorities. It's the hardest thing I've ever done and I wouldn't trade it for the world because he's so worth it, Darcy. He's worth everything. So we make it work, make the sacrifice, because not being together isn't an option. I don't know the right answer for you and Griffin, but it starts with the same question: Is he worth it to you? If he's not, let him go even though it hurts right now. If you do, then fight for your happiness. It's really that simple.” She laughed. “And that complicated.”

Darcy felt her world shift, tilt, and spin. She wiped under her eyes and sniffed. “You're right. Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Gracie said, her voice warm and soft. “You okay?”

“Not yet, but you helped.”

“I'm glad. Call if you need anything.”

“Thank you again.” Darcy sniffed and picked up a tissue to wipe her face. “James is a very lucky man.”

“He is.” Gracie chuckled. “But I'm just as lucky. We make sure of it.”

Darcy said her good-byes and hung up. She took a breath that sounded like it rattled in her chest. She looked out onto the streets below. She thought of that last conversation with Griffin way back when they'd graduated from high school.

She'd been right to leave then. She'd needed to find herself. To discover who she was outside of the confines of Revival. She didn't regret what she'd done.

But she was older now. Wiser. She could write anywhere. It didn't matter where she lived. Griffin had a town to save, an economy to revitalize, and people depending on him.

He belonged in Revival.

And she belonged with him.

She was finally going home.

Chapter Twenty

Griffin downed another two fingers of scotch, hissing out a breath as he gazed at his Christmas tree and sank deeper into his misery. How could it be worse this time around?

He'd spent all these years without Darcy. She'd only been back in his life for, what? A month? Putting her out of his mind should not be harder than when he'd been eighteen. But maybe that was the problem. At eighteen he'd had his whole life ahead of him, he'd been young and stupid. Who stayed with their high school girlfriend anyways? No one, that's who.

But now he knew there was something about Darcy that other women couldn't compete with. She held his heart. She understood him, knew what he needed and how to give it to him. She was strong and independent with the exact right amount of wildness to keep life interesting.

Ironically, it was all the things he loved most about her that made it impossible for her to stay.

But he didn't know if he wanted to live without her anymore.

Could he do it? Give up his life here and go to New York? Would she even want that?

He didn't know because he hadn't asked. Hadn't wanted to know the answer.

He poured himself another glass of scotch.

Alone on Christmas Eve.

He'd been invited places. His brother and his wife had asked him over. His brother in Chicago had asked him to come since he was stuck in the city for work. Mitch and Maddie Riley asked him to come over with their family as well, but he'd turned everyone down. He wasn't up to putting on a happy face.

He wanted to wallow in his misery.

He should be celebrating. He got what he wanted. His project would see the light of day, and Revival would start the road to recovery. The town would become what it was meant to be. Only it had come at an unexpected price and now he had to find a way to live with that.

Or he could leave.

He thought about his likely opponent in the next election. Clyde Winston—a narrow-minded, backward-thinking, sixty-five-year-old who hated change. He'd opposed everything Griffin did. Who would stand against Winston if Griff left?

Nobody. The asshole would drag the town twenty years into the past. Griffin knew in the grand scheme of things Revival was just a small town in the middle of nowhere. That small towns came and went without anyone even noticing. But he loved this town. Loved its crazy residents. Loved the strong values and sense of community. Loved who he'd been able to become because of it.

Griffin took another drink and it burned his throat before blazing a path to his stomach.

He loved Darcy more.

Christ.

The doorbell rang.

The last thing he wanted was company. He'd ignore it but half the lights were on so his unwanted guest knew he was home. It was probably Charlie, who was on duty tonight, and probably stopping by to shoot the shit and kill some time.

Weary, he got up, drained his drink, and went to the door.

When he opened the door, he could only stare in stunned silence. It wasn't Charlie.

It was Darcy.

And she looked messier than he could remember seeing her.

He opened his mouth and blurted before he had a chance to think, “You look terrible.”

A smile trembled on her lips. “So do you.”

“What? How?” He cleared the bewilderment from his voice. “Why are you here?”

She glanced around him and pointed. “Can I come in?”

He stood back and let her come in. She wore a heavy black jacket and jeans. Her hair a heap of tangles, her eyes shadowed. “Is everything okay?”

He shut the door, and she turned to look at him. “I don't know yet.”

He furrowed his brow. “What happened?”

Did somebody hurt her? He'd kill anyone who hurt her. Okay, he needed to calm down. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans to keep from reaching for her.

She frowned. “This isn't going how I expected.”

“I'm lost.” Because he was.

She sighed and opened her purse before taking out a small, gift-wrapped box and handing it to him. “This is for you.”

He took the package and looked up at her. “I didn't get you anything.”

“I know.” She gestured to it. “Open it.”

He ripped open the package, trying to ignore the flutter of hope beating wildly in his chest. He tossed the paper to the floor, opened the box, and stared down at the contents. Confused, he shook his head. “It's a cigarette butt.”

She gave him a shaky smile. “It's yours, you flicked it into the grass the first day we met behind the school. I picked it up and kept it.” She bit her bottom lip. “I've had it all these years. I know most girls are sensible and keep cards or pressed flowers, but I don't know, I kept this.”

Shocked, he blinked at her and sputtered on his next words. “You've been carrying around a used cigarette for all these years?”

“Yes, I have.” She brushed her hair from her cheek. “Even though I quit smoking years ago, sometimes when I missed you I'd put it to my lips or hold it between my fingers just to remember how you looked at me through the haze of smoke.”

He choked out a strangled laugh. “That's disgusting.”

“I know.” She shrugged. “I couldn't help myself.”

He met her gaze. “What does this mean?”

She sucked in her breath. “It means even though I know I can live without you, I don't want to. It means I want to fight for our happiness. If you'll have me.”

He put the box down on the table, walked over to her, and kissed her. The second his mouth touched hers it was like fire. He pulled back before he got lost in her and didn't say all the things that needed to be said. He wrapped his hands around her neck and brushed his thumb over the line of her jaw. “I was ready to come get you.”

Her eyes brightened, turning a brilliant blue. “You were?”

“Yes.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “I don't want to live without you, either. Even if I have to move to New York. I can't give you up again.”

She clutched his arm and tears spilled over her cheeks. “I wasn't wrong to leave. I needed to go. To find out who I was.”

“I know.” He held her close. “We'll make it work.”

She shook her head. “You don't understand.”

“Explain it to me then.”

She blinked, rose to her tiptoes, and pressed close. “Back then I needed to leave. Now I need to come home. To Revival. To you.”

He kissed her hard before raising his head and saying against her lips, “Thank fucking God.”

“I love you, Griff.”

“I love you, Darcy.” He pulled back and searched her expression. “Are you sure? Because I want you to be happy.”

“I'm sure.” She sucked in a breath. “I knew as soon as I looked at you at that party, wearing that stupid tie, that I was lost. And I don't want to recover.”

It was crazy, and too quick, and he didn't care, he needed to ask. “I understand the smart, sensible thing here is to learn who we are and what our relationships will look like as adults, but fuck that. I let you go once and I can't do it again. I've never been sensible or rational when it comes to you.”

She fluttered her lashes. “What are you saying?”

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you ready to be first lady of Revival?”

She laughed. “God help them, I think I am.”

He kissed her, and everything between them turned frantic and desperate. Seeking hands, questing mouths, fierce teeth. He stripped her of her jacket and without breaking contact he backed them up to the stairs.

Suddenly she pulled away. “What about my sex blog?”

“What about it?” Griffin asked, taking off her shirt.

“What will we tell people?”

He stripped her of her bra. “That I'm the luckiest man on the planet.”

She laughed. “Seriously?”

“We'll figure it out.”

“Okay.” She threw her arms around his neck. “Take me.”

He whispered into her ear, “Welcome home, Darce.”

She squeezed him tight and licked a path up his neck. “Welcome home.”