Smitten (38 page)
His mind zipped through the conversations they’d had earlier. The renovation project, her spinster comment . . .
He wondered again if she still had feelings for Sawyer. His attempt to draw her out had been pointless. She’d changed the subject pretty quick.
He hoped Reese wasn’t hurt. She was a tough girl, always had been. He’d seen her play through a sprained wrist and even the flu once when the regional championship was at stake.
What if she’d hit her head? She’d had a dazed look in her eyes as she’d stared back at him. Great. She might have a concussion, and he’d just let her walk back to town alone.
He banged his head on the door behind him. Once, twice, three times. He’d give her a few minutes to get to the coffee shop, then he’d text her and make sure she’d arrived safely.
He’d thought he was so good, playing ball with her like the old days, teasing her, taunting her. Then he’d trampled all over her like a big clumsy oaf. If he kept that up, she’d never figure it out.
Yeah, that’s what he should do. Knock her down and bruise her up every time he saw her. Then she’d never guess the truth: that he’d fallen madly, crazily, and irrevocably in love with his best friend.
R
eese pulled her cinnamon latte closer and wrapped her hand around the mug’s warmth. The heat stung her scraped palm. She couldn’t get her mind off Griffen and those strange feelings that had coursed through her. It made her feel . . . guilty. He was her buddy, for pity’s sake. It was so wrong.
“So the reason I asked you all here . . .” Natalie was saying. Her dark eyes twinkled with excitement. She pulled her hand from under her leg and waggled her fingers in the air.
A bright diamond glittered under the coffee shop lights.
“You’re engaged!” Shelby slipped her long, elegant arms around Natalie.
“Congratulations!” Reese squeezed her hand.
Julia’s dimples deepened. “About time.” She pulled Natalie’s hand closer and peered at the substantial diamond.
“But worth the wait.”
“He asked me last night. He took me to Michael’s on the Hill, near Stowe, for dinner. He’d asked the chef to make a gluten-free dessert, and when it came the ring was on top, tucked in a little whipped cream cloud. He said—get this—that he couldn’t imagine his forever without me in it.”
Shelby sighed. “That’s so romantic.”
Natalie patted Shelby’s hand. “You’re next. I can just feel it.”
The girls ramped up a conversation on wedding dates and venues.
Ten minutes later, they were listing the pros and cons of a summer wedding when Reese heard a text come in. She pulled her phone from its pocket and glanced at the screen.
Griffen. Her heart kicked her rib cage as she opened the phone.
Are you sure you’re okay? I really am sorry
.
She pondered her response. She’d just text a quick
I’m fine
and get back to the girls. Somehow, though, she couldn’t make her fingers move. The words blurred on the screen as she relived the fall in slow motion.
She could hardly remember how it happened. Their feet had tangled up or something, and he’d reached for her. He’d pulled her smack against his body before gravity pulled them both down. And then he was on top of her, pressed against the length of her, all warm and . . . solid.
She did not just shiver.
She glanced around the table, suddenly worried the girls would see her every thought scrawled across her face.
They were staring at her. She realized someone had just said her name.
“What?” she asked, her eyes bouncing from Julia to Shelby and back to Natalie, who cocked a brow.
“What?
”
“Sheesh,” Julia said. “What’s got you so uptight?”
“Are you okay, honey?” Shelby asked.
“I’m fine.” Good grief, how many times would she say that tonight? She sent off the text, then closed her phone and tossed it into the cavity of her bag.
“Did you see that?” Natalie asked.
“Yep,” Julia said.
“Something’s wrong,” Natalie said. “You just tossed your phone in your purse.”
“Without regard for its proper place,” Shelby added.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Reese frowned at the girls. “This is Natalie’s night. And besides . . .” One more time. “I’m
fine
.”
“She’s got that look in her eyes.” Julia took a sip of tea.
“I see it too.” Natalie put her bling away. “What happened?”
Couldn’t she even have one little moment of stupid without the girls finding out?
Shelby smiled knowingly. “It’s a man.”
“Definitely a man,” Julia said.
“It’s not a man.” She lowered her voice. “It’s Griffen.”
“Uh, Griffen is a man,” Julia said. “In case you haven’t noticed.”
She had noticed. Boy, had she noticed. Reese shook her head as if she could shake away the unbuddy-like thought.
“What happened, honey?” Shelby asked. “Was his quote too high?”
“This isn’t about a quote.” Natalie leaned in. “Look, she’s blushing. Tell all, and quick before Zoe needs my help.”
“There’s nothing to tell. It was silly.”
“
What
was silly?” Julia asked.
They were like a dog with a bone. Might as well get it over with. They’d never leave it alone.
“It was nothing—just something strange that happened before I got here. Griffen and I were playing ball, and our feet got tangled up. We fell. He kinda landed on top of me, and we were lying there and—I don’t know. It was just . . . weird.”
“Weird . . .” Julia hiked a brow. “Or good?”
Reese frowned. “Weird. And good. It was weird
because
it was good.”
Natalie’s dark eyes twinkled. “I knew it! I knew this would happen.”
Reese folded her arms. “Knew what would happen?”
“Men and women can’t be just friends.” Natalie punctuated the thought with a nod of certainty.
“I beg your pardon. Griff and I have been friends most of our lives.”
“Until now.” Shelby gave an unladylike snort, then straightened when Reese nailed her with a look. “Besides, look at Nick and me. We were just friends too.”
“It’s not like that. It was just an aberration. I probably hit my head and knocked a few marbles loose.”
“How did it feel?” Shelby asked. “The Griffen thing, not the marbles.”
Reese shrugged, remembering. She remembered his touch on her skin, remembered wanting him to touch her again. “It was like he wasn’t Griff—like he was a man.”
Julia raised a finger. “Uh, once again—”
“I know he’s a man!” Reese said too loudly, then looked around and slouched deep into the leather cushions.
“What about Griffen?” Shelby asked. “How did he react?”
“He was afraid he’d hurt me. He kept asking if I was okay.”
“Do you think he had the same thoughts?” Natalie asked.
“No!” Good grief, she was never going to live this down.
“And not one word to him about this. It would make things awkward and totally ruin a great friendship.”
“We won’t say a word,” Natalie said. “But don’t rule out the possibility of something more, Reese. Some of the best marriages start with friendship.”
Marriage? Had her friend lost her mind?
Shelby smiled dreamily. “I think you’d make the cutest couple.”
She couldn’t believe they were talking this way—about her and Griffen. The love bug had bitten them all hard.
“You’re all too love-struck to be objective. He’s my buddy.
I’ve never even thought of us together that way.
Never
.”
Reese scanned the group, stopping at Shelby, remembering again the day she’d spotted Griffen across the grocery store parking lot. Shelby was remembering too—she could see it in her friend’s eyes. That was different. She hadn’t known it was Griffen she was ogling.
Reese looked at Julia. “What about you? Aren’t you going to chime in too?”
Julia set her teacup down, smiled saucily, and shrugged her slight shoulders. “Never say never.”
L
unchtime,” Reese said.
She draped the old dusty counter with a clean sheet of plastic and started unpacking the cooler. From the radio in the corner, Bing Crosby crooned about a white Christmas.
Griffen grabbed the jug of water and splashed it over his hands in the sink.
She scanned her store. Chunks of drywall littered the drop cloths, two-by-fours were stacked haphazardly against one wall, and a fine layer of dust coated everything. Griffen had warned her it would look worse before it looked better. He wasn’t kidding.
He’d talked her into removing the walls. He had a way of doing that—talking her into things. And she had to admit, when she saw the brick behind them, she was glad he’d changed her mind.
He pulled up a stool and took a seat across from her. “Looks good.” They’d taken turns packing a lunch, and today’s fare was her treat. Club sandwiches on whole wheat bread, fresh fruit, and Doritos—his favorite.
Griffen said grace, then popped the tab on his Coke. “Okay, what gives? You’ve been nothing but quiet for two weeks.”
His blue eyes plowed into hers, and she made a deal of arranging the lettuce and tomato on her sandwich. She hated this. What she’d hoped was a temporary aberration, a moment of insanity, had followed her around for two weeks like an orphaned puppy. And being with him every waking hour of the day wasn’t helping.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “I’ll have you up and running on time.”
“I know you will.”
“If it’s not that, what is it?”
She should’ve taken the lifeline he’d offered. He had drywall dust in his hair, and a streak of something dark across his cheek. In short, he looked adorable.
She pressed her lips together.
He put his hand over hers. It was still cool from the water and rough against the back of her hand. “You worried about opening the store?”
She pulled her hand away and picked up her sandwich. “What if I made the wrong decision? It’s a lot of money, and what do I know about running a business?”
“You’ve planned this down to the smallest detail. And what you don’t know, Natalie can teach you.”
Her friend had already helped her with incorporating and all the business stuff Reese had been afraid of.
“What if the town doesn’t take off like we hoped? Natalie is sure it will, but you know Natalie. She’s so optimistic she’s practically delusional—and I mean that in the nicest way.”
Griffen smiled, a half grin that kicked her in the gut. Why hadn’t she ever noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way his long lashes tangled at the corners?
Holy moly. If he knew what she was thinking right now, she’d die a thousand deaths.
“We’ve already got tourists. The wedding and media will seal the deal. You’ll see.”
“Hope you’re right.” She took a bite of her sandwich.
“I’m proud of you for stepping out on faith. You won’t regret it.”
“If this is what stepping out on faith feels like, I see why I’ve never been a big fan.”
“You know what they say, ‘If you could do it on your own, you wouldn’t need God.’”
Easy for Griffen to say. He’d moved to Pennsylvania and traveled the world on mission projects. She couldn’t imagine having that kind of courage, being that spontaneous.
They ate in silence. Griffen took down his sandwich and half of hers when she shoved it to the side.
When he finished, he began clearing his trash. “What’s that big box out back? I almost tripped over it this morning.”
“Ice skates and lots of them. They arrived last night. I’m gonna have to get the back lot fenced in soon so I can start moving stuff over. My garage looks like a bicycle factory exploded.”
Griffen drained the last of his Coke. “Let’s go skating Saturday night.”
“What?” She’d heard him, just needed a few seconds to fabricate a decent excuse.
“We can try out your new skates on the town square.”
Wasn’t it enough she had to fight these feelings five days a week? She took a bite of pineapple, chewed and swallowed without tasting. It was just the kind of thing they’d always done. But it was different now. Way different.
He stood and slipped into his parka. “Have to run to the hardware store. What d’ya say? We on for Saturday?”
Reese cleared her trash, searching high and low for an excuse. Why couldn’t she have plans? A date? She was a reasonably attractive young woman, wasn’t she? She wondered if one of the girls was free. Probably all had dates with their new loves.
Griffen raised his brows, waiting. The song on the radio ended, ushering in a beat of silence.
“Sure.” She bit the inside of her mouth. Hard. What was she doing? How long did she think she could hide her feelings when they were together 24/7?
