“Well, it’s your lucky day. Your little boy is back on active duty this week. But grounded.”
Chloe did her best not to gasp like Sabrina did. But when his mom didn’t say anything, just goggled at him with bright eyes, Chloe asked the obvious. “What? I thought they were still mulling over what to do with you.”
“They are. ‘Officially.’ ” He made air quotes around the word. “I just found out this morning. Unofficially, I’m behind a desk for the next two weeks as a tryout. They want me to audition for squadron leader.”
Ooh, that must rub him the wrong way. Bad enough to be given a promotion that he didn’t want. But now, to have to work for it? No wonder he’d been so touchy since he’d picked her up. Solicitous of her, and charming as usual. Just with an undercurrent of distraction. She’d need to remind Griff later that they’d agreed to talk things out. Stewing over this by himself wasn’t the way to deal with it.
“Isn’t that unusual?”
“Highly. My CO is steamrolling it through. Someone up the ladder has reservations about my reputation for pushing the envelope. He wants me to prove that I can do the job.”
Of course he could do it. They wouldn’t even be considering it unless every single person in the Coast Guard chain of command thought he had the capability. Sure, he had the risk it all approach to saving people, but only because deep down Griff was positive he could make a difference. This audition was probably just an extension of his punishment for getting on the news. “Do you want to do it?”
An almost defeated smile shimmered across his lips. “Hell if I know.”
“You’re really not flying anymore?” The words broke from Sabrina in a hope-filled gasp.
“Sadly, that seems to be the way of it.”
Sabrina closed her eyes. Took in his words and let them settle over her like a security blanket. When she opened them again, those eyes the same aquamarine as Griff’s, moisture glistened at the corners. “I’m so relieved. I can’t wait to tell everyone at the party.”
“I’m not a good topic of party conversation. Chloe, on the other hand, would be a big hit with your friends. She’s a professional letter writer. A wordsmith. Penmanship like a cloistered medieval monk.”
Whoa. He’d just used Chloe to pivot the conversation 180 degrees. Griff hadn’t even been subtle about it. And now Chloe knew exactly why she’d been dropped on his mother with no warning.
“Really? I didn’t even know that profession existed. But now that I think about it, the possibilities are endless.” Sabrina stood. “Excuse me while I get Edith to bring another place setting. Over lunch you can tell me everything. The strangest letter you ever wrote. The hardest. Oh, I’m absolutely fascinated, Chloe.”
The clip of her heels had barely cleared the doorway before Chloe turned on Griff. “I’m a distraction,” she accused from between gritted teeth.
“In that dress? You bet. I can barely keep my hands off of you.” Griff teased along her neckline with a wandering finger, which she promptly swatted away.
“You can’t try to get around me with sex when we haven’t had it yet. Geez, Griffin.” Such a stereotypically male move. And one that she could never let him know had come close to working. “I mean, I’m a distraction for your mother. You brought me along so that she wouldn’t give you the third degree. To diffuse the tension between the two of you.”
A shrug. An aw-shucks downturn of his mouth that proved he knew he’d been caught. “That’s more of a side benefit than an evil scheme.”
“Is it?”
“Can we call it multitasking?”
If Chloe was even one tick less upset about this, she’d be utterly disarmed by his adorable attempts at worming out of the discussion. And his strategic use of his dimples. But if she didn’t nail Griffin for this, it would set a horrible precedent. “How about you call it what it truly is?”
He shoved to his feet. Paced back and forth on the tiles. Griffin jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Look, I wanted you to meet her. Sabrina’s frustrating. She hops in and out of my life like a jumping bean on steroids. I try not to think about it much. When I do, it hurts like hell. But underneath it all, she still matters to me. And now you do, too. So it was important that you meet before she disappears again.”
“Oh.” That was really, really sweet. Heartfelt. She couldn’t wait to share the heart-melting-ness of it with Summer. And it might have worked, even a few days ago. But Chloe knew Griff well enough now to be certain there was more to the story. Trying to keep her tone stern, she said, “You’ve never lacked for charm, Griffin. How about stripping it away, just for now, and finishing your explanation?”
He finally sank down to the arm of the sofa. Scrubbed his hands back and forth over his head. Cracked his neck. “She’s been riding my ass ever since that hero-pilot story hit the news. Not at all for the scores of rescues that I executed while she was gone all winter, though. And she doesn’t call as often as your mom does.” He stared pointedly at her clutch. Chloe had texted her mother from the car to be sure that no call would interrupt lunch. But yes, she knew she deserved the jibe. “But she’s all about the loneliness and the worry. It fucking smothers me.”
Chloe understood. Oh, boy, did she ever understand. The weight of her own mother’s constant paranoia was a heavy chain that literally kept her grounded as well. No travel. No moving. Not even a day without being checked on. There were days when the chain chafed. Days when she barely noticed it. And some days when she wondered if that chain of fear had sunk so far into her that it was becoming part of her own psyche.
So she couldn’t be mad at Griffin. Not entirely. Not about the cause. Just about the effect. “I truly don’t mind being a distraction. It’s an honor that you wanted me to meet your mom. But it is not okay that you weren’t up front about it. You should’ve told me. Heck, let’s back this up. You should’ve told your mother that you were bringing a date.”
“I didn’t want to give her time to Google you, like Riley did.”
The fact that it wasn’t an overt omission—that he’d put thought into protecting her—made her all warm and gooey inside, like a chocolate chip cookie straight out of the oven. “I appreciate that. Truly.” Chloe leaned against his flank, resting her head on the torso she knew to be ripped beneath the polo shirt. “You still should have told me what was really going on.”
Griffin sighed. “I guess I didn’t want to risk it? This was important. So I just made it happen. I’m used to taking charge of a situation and asking for buy-in later. Probably why that flat ass at the Pentagon is wary of giving me a command.”
How could she possibly stay even a little bit mad? No, Chloe felt gratified that the man who constantly tried to save everyone else actually needed her help—and trusted her enough to show her his weak spot. “I’m sure that approach has helped you save hundreds of lives. It does not, however, work in a relationship.”
“Duly noted.” He stroked a hand down her hair.
She craned her neck around to look up at him. “Um…is that it?”
A banked heat flared to life behind his eyes. “I’d give you the full-blown apology, but that involves certain physical activities that hinge on not having my mother walk back through that door in two minutes.”
“Now we’re talking.” What a relief. They’d had an almost argument, and come out the other side perfectly fine. This thing between them might just work out! “I’m going to hold you to that. I expect one full-blown apology as soon as the opportunity allows.”
“What are you doing tonight?”
Oh, maybe losing her virginity? If all the stars aligned and Lady Luck paid her a visit? And if she managed to convince Griff that he had that much to apologize for? Chloe firmed her lips. “Watching you eat crow comes to mind.”
“It’s a date.”
Chapter 18
Griffin liked wine. Knox had hooked them up with some classes on it when they all went to Italy, and again on a trip to Argentina, where the
ACSs ate their weight in beef. He knew how to pair it. He knew what to order to impress both educated wine snobs and people who just wanted something that tasted good. What he didn’t know was what wine went with cheese, didn’t leave your tongue feeling like flannel, wasn’t pushy, and yet still said let’s do this thing.
The clatter of more than six feet of man in slick-soled dress shoes thundered down the stairs, sprinted across the game room, and squeaked to a halt in the doorway of the wine cellar. Griffin didn’t need to turn around to know it was Knox. No one else wore fancy shoes at eight on a Monday night.
“You’re in the good row.” Accusatory didn’t begin to cover the needles spiking out of Knox’s voice. The obsession with his vino collection straddled the line between enthusiastic and nutso. As evidenced by the way he’d tricked out one end of the basement into a room lined with stone and wood and even elaborate niches with candelabras. When all was said and done, the wine got drunk and pissed out, after all.
“Yep.” Did Knox really expect him to go the wine-in-a-box route for the first time he took Chloe to bed?
Knox moved around the high black marble table where they did tastings. Stroked a finger lovingly over the label of the Portuguese bottle Griff had half out of the rack, then pushed it back in. “The row of bottles that I hand-carried home from wineries all across the world.”
“You didn’t strap them to your back and row across the Atlantic in a skiff, for Christ’s sake.” Griff knew Knox didn’t care about any of them drinking the expensive stuff. He probably just wanted to tell some long-winded story about why the one Griff chose was the best wine ever.
“You could’ve asked.”
“Didn’t think you were still home.” And hey, they were four floors below Knox’s suite. So…“How’d you know I was down here?”
“Jerry told me.”
Big kiss ass. “I knew he liked you better than me.”
“I do pay his salary.” He gave a few more bottles infinitesimal turns. “What are you looking for?”
If Griff knew that, he wouldn’t still be down here. He ran a finger under the collar of his dark green tee. Was it tight? Did Jerry shrink it? He pushed up the sleeves of the blue sport coat. It wasn’t nerves. It was just hot down here. The air must be set to hothouse instead of a perfectly chilled 54 degrees. “Something not too heavy. So you can sip it without food. But still interesting.”
“Ah. Got it. You want something in the drop-your-panties varietal.” Knox smirked knowingly at him.
Exactly. But he couldn’t let Knox get away with saying that. So he gave him a light punch in the arm. Well, mostly light. “Have a little respect. I thought you liked Chloe.”
“I do. A lot, actually. But she’s not here right now—and I also like yanking your chain. Tonight you’re going to go where no man has gone before, aye, Captain?”
Quoting Star Trek was…damn funny. Not helpful, though. “Only if you clear out and give us some privacy.”
“Here.” He thrust a bottle at Griffin. “Champagne is ubiquitous. A sparkling red is still special, but approachable.”
“Thanks.” They closed the iron gate on the wine cellar behind them and walked back through the length of the game room. For once, the Xbox didn’t lure him even a little. Griffin had better fun in store for tonight. Maybe. Hopefully. There was probably at least a fifty percent chance that nerves would make her choke and scrap his carefully laid plans.
He took in Knox’s all-black look. “Going clubbing tonight?”
“Of course. Monday nights? Hooking up is easier than shooting fish in a barrel. Should be some tourists in for the Cherry Blossom Festival, too. Nice to add a little variety to the mix.”
“Just don’t bring ’em back here.” Knox and his skank du jour parading through the house would be a definite mood killer.
Knox stopped him at the foot of the stairs. “Seriously, Griff, don’t screw this up. Chloe deserves a great memory, no matter what happens to you two down the road.”
Talk about a mood killer. Or would that be a cockblocker? Either way, Griffin didn’t need to be reminded of the massive life import the next few hours might have on Chloe. The weight of it on his shoulders had probably already made him an inch shorter.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Better you than me, buddy.” Knox gave him a commiserating clap on the back as they headed up the stairs to the kitchen. “And hey, Jerry told me about what you asked him to arrange.” He snickered. “You know what you are, Montgomery?”
Griff was starting to feel like an idiot for living in essentially a grown-up frat house with his best friends. He didn’t need Knox hanging around, badgering him tonight of all nights. Especially not with Chloe due any second. Focus was the name of the game. “Word on the street’s that I’m a gen-u-ine hero.”
“Sure. Whatever. You’re also a cheese pussy.” Knox’s words echoed off the stainless steel appliances, bounced around on the long marble island, and landed right at Chloe’s feet.
She looked hot. Jeans that might as well be painted on, a white blazer Griff intended to peel her out of as soon as possible, and some clingy, drapey purple top that in no way should impede his wandering hands. Chloe also looked uncomfortable. Confused.
“Sorry to interrupt.” She waved a hand back at the door. “Your, um, majordomo let me in.”
“Just call him Jerry,” Griffin said swiftly. There’d been a debate when they first hired him about his title. Majordomo was stuffier than the inside of an airplane cabin at forty thousand feet. Manservant sounded like he gave them sexual favors. But it was Jerry himself who insisted on the term butler, no matter how much they all hated it. He wore it as a badge of honor. Griff thought it was intimidating as shit to guests, though. “And you’re not interrupting.”
She shook her head, sending her hair tumbling over her shoulders. “Pretty sure I must be, given what I just overheard.”
Knox straightened his tie, then bowed over Chloe’s hand as a greeting. Yeah, the guy needed to clear out now. “If you can cure Griffin of his cheese”—he paused, then seemed to rethink his next word—“wussiness, I’d see it as a personal favor.”
“Okay. I mean, I’ll do my best.”
“Have a lovely, or hopefully even memorable, night.” Doing a crap-ass job of hiding his laughter with a cough, Knox slipped out the back door.
Chloe stared after him. “I have questions.”
“I’m sure you do.” Griff did, too. The biggest one being how to derail Knox’s next important night as payback. Screw a fake rubber snake in the bed. He’d be willing to go find a real turtle for this. Slow-moving enough for Knox to catch, but real enough to freak out his date du jour.
She dug her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. Exactly where Griffin wished his hands were planted right now. “Does Knox know that we might be taking things to the, um, next level tonight?”
No point in lying. “Yeah. They all do. I had to be sure we had the house to ourselves.”
“Mmm.” Chloe left him hanging, wondering if she’d turn this into a thing, for long enough that he put the wine in a holder and peeled the foil off the top. “Well, considering you all thoroughly discussed my virginity with my permission, albeit under a pseudonym, on satellite radio, I suppose I can’t object to them being in the loop.”
See? Chloe was sensible. She didn’t burst into fits of temper like some women did. It was one of the too-numerous-to-count things he liked about her. A little extra reassurance wouldn’t be out of the question, though. Griff grabbed a dish towel to cover the cork. “The house is big enough we don’t run into one another too often, but I wanted to be sure it was just you and me.”
She went through an overexaggerated finger point: first at him, next at herself, and then at the doorway to the hall. “And Jerry?”
“Probably left as soon as he brought you back here.”
Chloe hitched herself up onto one of the white stools ringing the marble island. “He’s rather�
��large.”
Griffin laughed. Everyone reacted to Jerry that way. “He was a defensive end at the University of Maryland. Blew out his knee his first season in the NFL, and then blew all his money a year after that. Riley knew him from the gym. Guy offered to do anything for an honest day’s wage. We hired him to clean up some hurricane damage to the yard. A few months later, he was running the whole house. He’s great.”
“Speaking of the house…it’s enormous.”
Huh. Chloe made a lot of observations. Especially since he was still waiting for the usual hello/kiss combo from her to kick off the date. “It used to be a rectory. Got decommissioned, or whatever you call it. Once Knox made his first zillion dollars, he wanted to upgrade from our crappy apartments. So here we are.”
Griffin didn’t go into the details about how they had the bishop’s house next door, too. How they’d bumped out some walls with the extra lot and made the whole thing even bigger than it appeared from the front. Because he’d figured it out. Chloe was stalling.
Chloe, who had been throwing herself at him with increasing intensity ever since he’d slammed on the brakes. Chloe, who drove him crazy in all the best ways, trying to get him to speed things up. Now that the moment was here? Nerves must be getting the best of her. Good thing he’d already planned for that possibility. They’d waited this long. No way would he let her feel rushed this close to the goal.
“I hope that’s not more five-hundred-dollar champagne,” she said as he thumbed out the cork. “I feel like I need to donate to a charity to cosmically balance out what Knox picked for us to drink last night.”
“Guilt-free sparkling red. Costs less than parking at the Kennedy Center,” Griffin joked as he poured. But he didn’t hand her glass over. Instead, he centered a wooden board beneath a chrome-and-glass pendant light that looked like an upside-down car headlight. It held a fancy display of cheeses, honey, jam, and crackers.
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