Griff moves into the kitchen, then starts the first cup of coffee in his Keurig. “Sure, that would be great.”
There’s not much to see in his apartment. There’s a short hall off the living area that has two doors—presumably, a bathroom and a bedroom. I move into the small kitchen just as the first cup of coffee is done brewing.
Griff hands me the cup, then points to the fridge. “Cream is in there. Hope you don’t want sugar as I don’t have any.”
“Black is fine,” I reply, giving a tiny huff over the steamy top before taking a sip. While I like my frothy cappuccinos and sweet confections in my java, years of only having black coffee available in prison made me adaptable.
Griff rests a hip against the counter as his cup brews, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his well-fitted jeans. “When are Aaron’s football tryouts?”
“Saturday.” I mimic his stance, leaning against his counter with my coffee in hand. “He’s so nervous.”
“I can practice with him some more if you want,” he offers.
“Really?” It’s the sweetest offer, because Aaron is anxious about it. “We don’t want to be a bother.”
“You and Aaron are not a bother,” Griff chides with a stern frown. “And he’s a good kid. I enjoy helping him out.”
“He really appreciates what you taught him. I have no skills whatsoever. Without a male figure in the picture, it can be challenging with a boy.”
Griff nods, his eyes sympathetic. “I can only imagine.”
“So you had a close relationship with your dad?” I surmise.
“Very,” Griff says with a chuckle. “I mean… a lot of time was spent working on the farm with him, which isn’t always the most fun, but he’s a good listener… my dad. I can talk to him about anything. And he taught me how to throw a football and how to fish.”
“See, I worry I’m not able to give everything Aaron needs—”
“You give him exactly what he needs,” Griff interrupts. “You may not know what the hell you’re doing with a football, but you were out at the park with him, encouraging him to play. That’s all that really matters to a kid, Bebe.”
I look down at my cup, sadness starting to fill me. “I wasn’t always the best mom. Wasn’t always available to him.”
I risk a peek at Griff, wondering if this is the time to spill my guts about my history. He gives a slight shrug. “No one is perfect, Bebe, but what I do know is your kid seems happy and well adjusted. I’d say you’ve been a damn good mom to him.”
And right there… I know I can’t say anything because Griff is already giving me too much credit. He’s built me into someone I’m not, and I’m not ready to see the disappointment on his face when he learns about the real me.
Maybe I should just do as Dozer says. Fuck him and have fun. This doesn’t have to be anything more than a casual hookup that can help me to scratch an itch that’s been brewing for a long damn time.
I put my coffee cup down, not wanting to do anything to interfere with my buzz and the courage it’s giving me to take a step toward the sexy man across from me.CHAPTER 7GriffinSomething comes over Bebe. I can see it on her face. While I may not have known her long, I’ve come to read her very well. She has deep secrets, and I think she’s struggling to keep them contained. I’ve honestly been waiting all night for her to tell me about her time in prison. I figured the four beers she had would help loosen her tongue, but she’s kept it all close to the vest.
And now… her expression morphs from what seemed like a bit of sad nostalgia to something a little predatory and challenging.
She places her cup on the counter, then takes a step toward me that puts us toe to toe. I have no clue what’s coming, but I have an inkling I should ignore my own coffee, which has finished brewing.
Bebe’s head tips back, and she looks so magical right now. All waif-like and innocent, those crystal blue eyes blinking with her well-guarded secrets stashed behind the veil. Her hands come to my chest, and my muscles leap at her touch. I wish I were immune to her, but I’m not. I very much want her to keep doing whatever it is she’s wanting to.
“I think I’d like you to kiss me again,” she whispers, her eyes locked straight on to mine. Her voice is strong and sure. While she may not be willing to reveal her secrets, she’s clearly offering something else.
Her lips are soft and inviting. The short kiss we had in the bar was all too fucking good. I wasn’t brought to Cranberry to kiss this woman or play football with her son, but fuck if I can withstand the invitation she presents right now.