Wrecked Palace

by Catherine Cowles

  Crosby bent and pressed his lips to her slightly rounded belly. “Brown Eyes, you’re always hungry these days.”

  Her gaze narrowed on him. “Are you saying I’m eating too much?”

  Crosby straightened, holding up both hands in surrender. “No way. I think you’re perfect.”

  Ford chuckled. “Retreat now, man. You’re fucked.”

  “Language,” Bell chastised.

  Ford winced. “Sorry, Caelyn.”

  I waved him off. “They’re playing. They can’t hear a thing we’re saying.” Mia was forcing Will to play spotter as she worked on some of her tumbling. And Ava had gotten sucked into playing judge for each move.

  I looked around at my friends, my family, and a rush of warring sensations flooded me. Warmth at this amazing community I had found myself a part of. One that was always willing to lend a hand and support. And yet those little flickers of jealousy ate at the warmth. I hated it. Wanted to shove the feelings away, but they wouldn’t be budged.

  The tender caresses Crosby gave Kenna’s stomach. The kisses Ford pressed to Bell’s temple. I wanted that for myself. But as soon as those thoughts entered my mind, I’d give myself a mental smack. These were my two best friends in the world. The only people who had been there for me, no matter what. And I was happy for them—over-the-moon. I didn’t want to poison any of that with my jealousy.

  “Hellooooo? Caelyn?”

  I snapped back to the present at Kenna’s voice. “Sorry. What?”

  She straightened in her chair. “What is going on with you lately?”

  I forced a smile. “You know me, I’m just thinking of the million and one things on my to-do list.”

  Bell reached over and rubbed a hand up and down my back. “Well, quit it. Now’s the time to relax. It’s Friday, and it’s family dinner time. Turn off the worry.”

  I loved Bell as if she were another limb, but she didn’t understand the kind of worry I felt. The endless list of things constantly swirling around in my mind. An increase in rent, Mia’s gymnastics, whether I should take Ava to another therapist, how I was going to pay for Will’s college in a year and a half… I forced myself to keep my tone light even though what I really wanted to do was scream. “I’ll do my best, taskmaster.”

  Ford grinned at his fiancée. “I’d do what she asked. The woman can be vicious.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I agreed.

  Bell scowled at both of us. “You guys are mean. I’m not that bad.”

  Kenna let out a snorted laugh. “You might as well be a drill sergeant.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s you,” Crosby argued. “You nearly made one of Hunter’s men cry yesterday.”

  “I did not,” Kenna protested.

  “What are you doing to my brother’s construction crew?” Ford asked, amusement filling his tone.

  Crosby couldn’t hold in his laughter. “When they were taking all of the furniture out of the downstairs—”

  “The priceless antique furniture,” Kenna interrupted.

  “Kenna didn’t feel they were being careful enough. She barked orders at them so loudly, one of the younger guys got tears in his eyes. I swear.”

  Kenna groaned. “He did not. Don’t listen to Crosby, he lies.”

  “How is it being back in the guest house?” After a vicious court battle, Kenna finally had all of the legal rights to the estate Harriet had left her. But the fight had ended in a brutal attack that had almost cost Kenna her unborn child.

  Kenna’s fingers searched out Crosby’s. “It’s good. Harriet had been putting off a lot of upkeep in the main house. It makes sense to just do it all at once before the baby comes. And it’s been good reclaiming the space that was my home for so many years. I’m not going to let one asshole ruin it for me.”

  Bell raised a glass to Kenna. “Good for you.”

  “Proud of you, Ken,” I echoed.

  Crosby squeezed Kenna’s hand and then walked back over to the grill to check the steaks. “We’re just about done.”

  I swung my legs out from under the picnic table and stood. “I’ll get the salad. Kiddos, time to wash up.”

  Mia stood from a back handspring. “Steak!”

  Will shook his head and pulled Ava to her feet. “We’re coming.”

  I headed for the kitchen. Pulling the salad out of the fridge, I shook the homemade dressing I’d made earlier. Carefully pouring it over the greens, I tossed it together.

  “Will said that Griffin was hanging around when the kids got to the store today.”

  Kenna’s voice made me jump. “Make some noise when you enter a room, would you?”

  “But then I’d lose my ninja status.” She sidled up next to me at the counter, staring me down.

  I sighed. “He was getting a sandwich. Is there something wrong with that?”

  Kenna’s lips pursed. “Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that. Just as long as you’re careful.”

  I turned to face her fully. “Careful about what exactly? Practically everyone on this island treats Griffin unfairly. They either stare and whisper, morbidly curious about him and his family, or they try and get something out of him. He’s kind and honorable. And Will might not have told you, but he was also wonderful with Mia today.”

  “Caelyn, I don’t think badly about Griffin. He obviously has a strong moral compass. But I also know that he’s wounded in a way that means he’s not going to let anyone into his life in a real way. His entire family drowned in front of his eyes, the press hounded him for years, and people have sold him out left and right. That marks a man. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up…”

  Kenna let her words trail off, and I winced. Of course, Kenna had seen past all my pithy comments about Griffin the Greek god. She saw beneath the surface. Saw that my crush ran deeper than finding the man handsome and intriguing. There was something about his wounds that called to my own. A pull of attraction and understanding. But I knew that meant we could only ever have a friendship.

  I’d always been one to fall for the wounded birds. Thinking I could fix things for them and then we’d be one big, happy family. It never ended well. All through high school and college, I’d had one disastrous relationship after another. But I’d learned my lesson. And once I’d gotten custody of my siblings…I could count on one hand the number of dates I’d been on.

  I turned back to the salad, giving it one more toss for good measure. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going down that road. All I’d like from Griffin is to be his friend. It looks like he could use one.”

  But that wouldn’t stop me from trying to earn his lip twitches and chuckles. Because they felt like the brightest light shining down on me, and I wanted to stand in that sun.

  4

  Caelyn

  “No, no, no.” I banged my head against the steering wheel with each word. This wasn’t happening. Maybe if I closed my eyes and wished hard enough, I’d end up on a sunny beach somewhere. A place where handsome pool boys would bring me endless drinks and snacks.

  I cracked an eye open. No sand and surf. There was only smoke billowing from my SUV’s hood. I let my head fall back to the wheel. It had been overheating more and more recently. I knew what was wrong, but I’d put off taking it to the mechanic. The thought of one more unexpected bill had tears burning the backs of my eyes.

  I’d had a long talk with Coach Hughes today, and she wanted Mia in the gym five times a week. Mia was begging to go. And there was even a family willing to let her carpool with them to Shelter Island so I didn’t have to haul the other kids with me to take Mia to practice. I wanted so badly to find a way to make it happen for her. Hell, I’d sell plasma if I had to. If she had what it took to get a college scholarship, it could change everything for her. Not to mention, nothing lit Mia up like when she was tumbling.

  I let out a sigh and watched the smoke continue billowing from my engine. Eventually, it would stop. Then I would deal with it. One thing at a time.

  Th
e sound of a vehicle approaching had me checking my rearview mirror. A familiar truck pulled to the side of the road behind me. Tipping my head heavenward, I silently begged the Universe to swallow me whole. Why did this man have to witness so many of my embarrassing moments? The burn at the backs of my eyes grew stronger as Griffin climbed out of his truck.

  I watched as his long legs ate up the distance separating us. Everything about him said he was in control and command. I took a deep, steadying breath, willing my emotions to go on lockdown. I unbuckled my seat belt and pushed open the door. “Hey,” I greeted as I slid out of the SUV.

  Griffin scowled at my older-than-dirt SUV. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, forcing levity into my voice. “Big Bertha here just decided to overheat on me.”

  I didn’t even get a flicker of a smile with my Big Bertha comment. Instead, Griffin rounded the vehicle to get a better look at the smoke. “I’ll call a tow.”

  “No!” I tempered my tone. “No. Thank you. I just need to wait for it to stop smoking before I can open the hood. I’ve got antifreeze in the back.”

  Griffin’s expression hardened even further. “It’s not safe for you to drive like this. Or for you to open the hood without work gloves. You got some of those?”

  I licked my lips, cursing the fact that I didn’t even have a towel in my SUV. “No. But I can just wait.”

  “Or you could call a mechanic,” Griffin argued.

  I bristled at his tone. “Look, I’ve dealt with this countless times before. I know what to do. It’s not a permanent fix, but it’ll work good enough for now. I’ll get the heater hose repaired when I can.”

  Griffin tipped his head back as if praying for patience. “I have gloves in my truck.”

  “We still have to wait for it to stop smoking. You’ll be late for whatever it is you were going to do. There’s no need for you to sit around here with me.” Because I couldn’t take Griffin’s probing stare—the one that seemed to see everything. I already knew that my life was a mess, that I was barely hanging on by a thread. I didn’t want anyone else witnessing my disaster.

  “I’m not leaving you on the side of the road alone,” he growled.

  “Okay, then.” Apparently, that finely tuned moral compass didn’t allow for damsels in distress. The thing was, while I was in distress, I was far from a damsel.

  Griffin strode back to his truck, each step an attack on the ground. He wrenched open the cab door and rustled around for something. After a minute, he slammed the door closed and walked back in my direction, a pair of gloves in hand.

  I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze away from his broad shoulders and scowling face. Instead, I chose to survey my still-smoking vehicle. The white billows were a little less now. But Big Bertha showed no signs of stopping altogether.

  “Where are the kids?”

  I looked back at Griffin. It was the first question he had ever asked me. I’d been making his sandwiches and trying to pry smiles out of him for years, but this was the first thing he’d ever actually inquired about. I had a hunch it was a self-protection thing. If he didn’t ask questions of anyone, maybe they’d return the favor. “Will’s at football practice. Mia has gymnastics. And Ava is hanging with Kenna at her office. I was just on my way to pick her up, actually.” I threw a glare at my SUV, mentally cursing it six ways from Sunday.

  Griffin nodded. “Busy family.”

  “Two-thirds of the tiny terrors really like their activities.”

  “How’d they earn that name?”

  Griffin’s lips twitched on the question. God, I was a sucker for that flicker of movement. I cleared my throat, forcing my gaze away from his mouth. “I started calling Will a tiny terror from the day my mom brought him home from the hospital, and he kept me up half the night. The nickname just kind of stuck.”

  “How do they feel about it?”

  I turned to face Griffin fully. “What’s with all the questions all of a sudden?”

  He gave a careless shrug. “We’ve got time to kill.”

  I stole a quick glance at the hood of my vehicle. Smoke still seeped out a bit. “Fine. Question for a question.” Griffin stayed silent for a moment, and I raised a brow in challenge.

  “Fair’s fair, I guess.”

  I did my best to hide my grin. There were only about a million things I wanted to know about the mysterious man who ventured into my store a few times a week. But I knew I had to choose carefully. If I got too personal too quickly, he’d shut this down in a flash. “What’s your favorite vegetable?”

  Griffin blinked a few times. “That’s what you’re going with?”

  I shrugged. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

  “Corn, I guess.”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “Corn barely counts as a vegetable.”

  Griffin’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a vegetable.”

  “Fine. Give me another one.”

  He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Asparagus. That counts as two questions, by the way.”

  I was suddenly thinking of all the ways I could work asparagus into the menu at The General Store, planning on researching recipes, pulling out old favorites. I gave myself a mental shake. I did not need to be planning anything around this man. “All right. Your turn. Ask away.”

  “How old were you when you got custody of your siblings?”

  I did my best to keep my smile firmly in place. “Twenty-one.” Still a baby myself in so many ways. I’d had no idea what I was getting myself into. If it hadn’t been for the Shelter Island Child Alliance, I would’ve been up shit creek without a paddle. They helped me with parenting classes and a million other kinds of support.

  Griffin let out a low whistle. “So young.”

  “I was all they had left.”

  “They’re lucky to have you.”

  “They are.” I wasn’t the perfect guardian, but I also knew that no one would’ve tried harder than I did to give the children in their care a good life. I eyed the man in front of me. A faint scar bisected one eyebrow and his cheek, but somehow, it only added to his beauty, made it more real. “How’s the house coming along?”

  Griffin blinked a few times as if surprised that I knew he was working on the massive farmhouse on the opposite end of the island. But everyone knew. There had long been hushed conversations about what a shame it was that the home had fallen into such disrepair. When Griffin returned to Anchor, everyone had expected him to hire a contractor to get the place in shape. Islanders had been shocked when word got around that Griffin was doing the work himself. No one else had set foot in the home since the first few months he was here.

  Griffin twisted the work gloves in his hands. “There are a lot of things I love about this island. Everyone knowing your business isn’t one of them.”

  “Is the fact that you’re restoring the farmhouse really a state secret?”

  A muscle in Griffin’s jaw ticked. “It’s not that. I just…I like my privacy.”

  It made sense. I vaguely remembered that various people had sold stories to the tabloids about Griffin and his family. Photos, too. His name had been splashed across headlines off and on for years. My voice grew quiet. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

  The last thing I wanted was to push Griffin into something he was uncomfortable with. I understood better than most how people could be perversely interested in your pain, your tragedy. After I’d taken custody of my siblings, there had been lots of well-meaning visitors to Harriet’s estate. Those who offered support but really just wanted all the nitty-gritty details of what my parents had done. Harriet had finally started refusing to let anyone visit. But that didn’t stop them from approaching me in town. Worse, they didn’t even bother guarding their words around the kids.

  A hand eased down onto my arm, the heat of it seeping through my long-sleeved shirt. “Are you okay?”

  I gave my head a little shake. “Yeah. Sorry. Just…woolgathering, I guess.�
�

  Griffin’s brows pulled together as he let his hand fall away. I missed the touch instantly. The warmth of it. The weight. Like a thick security blanket. He searched my face, looking for what exactly, I didn’t know. “The house is coming along. But it’s pretty damn slow when it’s just me.”

  I had the sudden urge to offer to help, but I knew it wouldn’t be received as the kindness I intended. “You’ll get there.” It might take a decade given the size of the home and the property, but somehow, I didn’t think Griffin would mind.

  “I will.” He glanced over to the SUV. “I think we can open the hood now.”

  I reached out a hand for the gloves. “I’ve got it.”

  “I can do it—”

  I cut Griffin off with a shake of my head. “Really. It’s my SUV.”

  Hesitantly, he handed me the gloves. A spark of something flared when our fingers brushed—an astute awareness of the first time we’d made skin-to-skin contact. I sucked in a breath and forced my attention to the vehicle. But all I could think was that I didn’t want our stolen roadside moments to end.

  5

  Griffin

  I pulled open the screen door of The General Store, and it slapped back into place behind me as I stepped through. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about my run-in with Caelyn. Our conversation and the one I’d overheard with Old Man Walters had replayed over and over in my mind. Caelyn needed a break. She’d devoted her life to three kids who would’ve been put into foster care without her, and she couldn’t even afford to get her SUV repaired.

  A whole slew of images assaulted my brain, each one worse than the previous. They all painted a vivid picture of what could happen if something really went wrong with Caelyn’s vehicle. I swallowed back the bile that crept up my throat and forced myself forward. I made my way down an aisle until I reached the little kitchen at the back of the store.

  Caelyn looked up from where she was sorting an array of supplies. “Hey. You’re earlier than usual.”