It was too much and everything she’d ever imagined all at once. Desire spiraled and then splintered, sending shock waves of pleasure through every cell. A few seconds later Griffin stiffened, then moaned his release, and she wrapped her arms more tightly around him, loving the gift of sharing this moment.
Loving him, although she understood at some intrinsic level that it was too soon to utter the words.
So she concentrated on breathing normally and smoothed the hair away from his forehead, beaded with sweat from his exertion. He levered himself up on his elbows, cool air rushing across her skin as he stared down at her.
“Amazing,” he whispered, his gaze intense on hers, and Maggie was grateful he felt the same way she did.
Then disappointment snaked around her gut, not at him but herself. What did it say about her that she was grateful a man thought she was decent in bed? Not much, unfortunately.
“What?” he asked, one finger skimming over the line she knew had formed between her eyes. “Tell me that was good for you.”
She frowned harder at his words. “Are you joking? You have to know how good you are. I can’t imagine you’ve made it this far without hearing it at least a thousand times.”
He shifted so he was next to her on the bed, propped up on an elbow. “A thousand may be pushing it,” he said with a grimace. “Besides that, what happened between us wasn’t just me, Maggie. It was you, too. Both of us together. I know enough to understand how special our chemistry is. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said softly. Chemistry. Physical chemistry. Was that what he thought made this so mind-blowing?
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. “It feels like something shifted between us just now and not for the better.”
She shook her head, leaned in and kissed him. “Of course not. You did everything right. More right than I realized was possible.”
“Good. I’ll be right back.” He rolled away from her, grabbed his boxers and headed toward the far end of the studio apartment. She could see the bathroom through an open door. He closed it and she heard the sound of running water.
She stretched across the bed and reached down to grab a discarded T-shirt, pulling it over her head and then snuggling into the covers. She felt surrounded by Griffin in this bed, enveloped in his scent, her body still warm and pliant from the pleasure he’d given her. But the dull ache in her chest wouldn’t ease. Fear and doubt crept in and tried to crowd out everything good about this moment.
As Griffin returned to the bed, Maggie did her best to put all of that aside. Everyone wore a mask, she told herself, and it was dangerous to let him see what was behind hers. She’d played a role for so long, how could she stop now?
“Oh, great,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest. “You’re dressed.”
She snorted. Unladylike and probably the opposite of what a man wanted to hear from a woman in his bed, but she couldn’t help it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, for one...” His big hands skimmed along her waist and hips, then moved under the shirt. “The sight of you in my shirt is beyond sexy.” He kissed her and even though she’d thought her body completely satisfied, need and desire rose to the surface once again. “And two, I’ve decided my new favorite hobby is undressing you.” He shifted her, gently prodding her legs open. “Now I get another chance.”
She made a little noise of satisfaction, which seemed to be exactly the reaction he wanted. Within minutes they were both naked and sweaty again, and Maggie buried her fears and doubts under the satisfaction she found in Griffin’s arms.
Chapter Ten
The scent of freshly brewed coffee woke Maggie the next morning. She blinked and pushed the hair out of her face, glancing at the unfamiliar ceiling above her.
“This is why I need more than one room. Sorry I woke you.”
She sat up at the sound of Griffin’s voice, pulling the covers with her.
“I’m naked,” she whispered, then clasped a hand over her mouth when a strangled giggle escaped.
“Which is funny because?” Griffin asked the question as he approached the bed, holding out a mug of steaming coffee to her. He wore a Harvest Vineyards T-shirt and low-slung basketball shorts. His dark hair was tousled and a rough shadow covered his jaw. It was difficult to believe he could be hotter than he’d looked in the tux—or in his birthday suit for that matter—but Maggie thought he’d never been more handsome than at this moment.
Maybe it was the affection in his eyes as he looked at her. “Well?” he prompted.
She shrugged, reaching for the coffee with one hand and using the other to keep the sheet tightly clasped above her breasts. “I don’t sleep naked,” she said with another giggle.
“As I remember,” he told her, sitting on the edge of the bed, “there wasn’t a lot of sleeping.”
“Right.” Maggie sipped from the coffee mug, then glanced at the clock. “I should go. It’s bad enough I’m going to be doing the walk of shame into my dad’s house. I don’t want to be out here if anyone stops by.” She rolled her eyes. “Like your mother.”
Griffin leaned in and kissed her. He tasted of coffee and toothpaste and her body immediately heated. “No shame, although you’re motivating me to get my own place.”
“Me, too.” She sighed and rested her forehead against his. “I wish we could stay in bed all day.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard in ages.”
She shifted away when he moved closer. “Don’t tempt me.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he told her with a laugh.
“But now you have to turn away,” she said, shoving at his chest. “I need to get dressed.”
“A reverse striptease.” One thick brow lifted. “Sounds intriguing.”
“No way.” She placed the mug on the nightstand. “Thank you again for last night.”
“Which part?” He tapped a finger on his chin, as if in deep contemplation mode. “When you were on to—”
“Defusing the situation at the fund-raiser. You rescued me.”
He shook his head. “I’ve already told you I’m not the hero type, and you’re strong enough that you don’t need rescuing. But I’m happy to be in your corner. Always.”
“I love you,” she whispered without thinking, then wished the floor would swallow her up. “I’m sorry,” she added immediately. “I didn’t mean it.” She pressed a hand to her flaming cheek. “Well, I meant it, but I didn’t mean to say it out loud. Not now. You don’t have to say anything back. It’s too much—”
“No apologies.” Griffin leaned in for a soft kiss, then lifted his head to look at her. “You are the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, Maggie.”
She returned his smile, although a sharp twinge lanced her heart when he didn’t say those three words back. But he’d claimed her at the gala, in front of both their families and most of the town. That counted for something. A lot.
“I’ll go start the car,” he told her as he straightened. “But next time I’m holding you hostage in bed all day.”
She rubbed at her chest when he walked away, then quickly got dressed. The words she’d uttered and his reaction to them replayed over and over in her mind. Was she confusing great sex with true emotion?
No.
She wouldn’t believe that. Even if Griffin couldn’t say the words yet, she knew he cared about her. She believed it was even more than that. It had to be. Their connection was too strong for any other explanation.
They talked about inconsequential things as he drove her to her father’s house. Normally she loved their easy banter, but this morning it felt stilted, like they were filling the silence to avoid her premature declaration.
She forced another smile when he pulled to a stop at the curb.
“I’ll call you later,”
he told her, leaning over the center console for one last kiss.
“Okay,” she whispered and let herself out of the car, hurrying up the front walk in the soft light of morning. The street was empty and she said a silent prayer that none of her dad’s neighbors were glancing out their windows this early.
The house remained quiet and she managed a quick shower and change of clothes before anyone woke. Her father was in the kitchen when she came back down the stairs.
“Late night?” he asked, raising a brow.
“Yeah,” she agreed, reaching for the coffeepot. “You know how it goes.”
He gave a noncommittal grunt in response. “I didn’t see you at the event after the first dance.”
“I slipped out for some air,” she told him. “It got a little intense.”
“I’m sure you’ll be receiving a call from Georgia as soon as she remembers—”
“It’s fine,” Maggie lied. “At some point this town will get sick of talking about me.”
“You’re a Spencer,” her dad said with a humorless laugh. “I doubt it.”
“You manage to stay off the radar.”
“Look at what it cost me.” He pressed his hands to the counter. “I relied on your mother to do most of the heavy lifting as far as parenting, and when she died, a lot of that responsibility transferred to you. I didn’t know how to deal with life in this town other than to hole up in my studio.”
“You did the best you could,” she told him.
“Which was pretty inadequate.”
“Dad.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “I’m trying to do better. In the spirit of my more active dad role...” He picked up a flyer from the counter and held it out to her. “We’re having a family fun day today.”
“The pumpkin patch,” she murmured, taking the slip of paper from him.
“It’s got a corn maze, too,” he said with a nod.
“I’m not going through a corn maze,” Morgan announced as she came into the kitchen. “It freaks me out.”
“Scaredy-cat,” Ben said, following on her heels.
“You’re both going,” Jim announced, pointing between the two of them. “And you’re going to like it. We’re bonding.”
Maggie thought about adding her two cents about how he was a decade too late for this kind of forced family fun, but at the hopeful, almost pleading look her father shot her, she couldn’t manage it.
“The pumpkin farm is outside Corvallis,” she told her brother and sister. “We can have breakfast at Annie’s Cafe on the way.”
“Seriously?” Morgan asked with an eye roll. “You think this is a good idea?”
“Sure.” Maggie forced a cheery tone. “It will be a new family tradition.”
Morgan snorted. “It’s a little late for traditions.”
“It’s never too late,” Maggie said with more confidence than she felt.
“And no cell phones,” their father announced, earning disbelieving sounds of protest from each of them. “No arguments. We’re going old-school like your old man.”
“You’ll survive,” Maggie said, feeling like she needed to support her dad when he was trying so hard. “Cell phones in the basket on the table. You’ll be reunited with them again when we’re back home. Go get dressed. We leave in fifteen minutes.”
Both Morgan and Ben grumbled but dutifully placed their cell phones into the wicker basket in the center of the table that held mail and other odds and ends from their daily lives.
“I’m going to change into sneakers,” Maggie told her dad. “Then I’ll be ready.”
“Cell phone,” he responded.
“Oh.” She frowned, pulling the device from her back pocket. “I was hoping you didn’t actually mean me.”
“I mean all of us.” He plucked his from the counter and put it with the others.
Maggie’s fingers tightened around hers. “I’m in the middle of a campaign, Dad.”
“It’s Sunday.”
She fidgeted under his stare. “I have to follow up with some things from last night.”
“They’ll wait,” he said calmly.
Maggie sighed, then gingerly placed her phone on top of the others. “You’re not joking about this family bonding stuff.”
“It’s as strange for me as it is for you,” he assured her. Then he wrapped an arm around her shoulder for a quick hug. “Getting away will be good for all of us. We need a break.”
She couldn’t argue so she reached up and kissed his cheek. “My goal for the day is to beat Ben through the corn maze.”
He laughed. “Good luck with that.”
* * *
Maggie not only failed to beat her brother through the corn maze, she’d gotten so lost that Ben had to retrieve her. She might never live down her lack of direction, but the laughs were worth the grief she took.
The day had been perfect. With no real-life distractions, the four of them had fun as a family. They took turns trading stories of Halloweens past and all the last-minute costumes Jim had put together for them.
Planning was definitely not his strong suit, although the spontaneous family outing—even though it seemed a little late in coming—had to be one of his better ideas.
They’d stopped for breakfast at one of Maggie’s favorite diners on the way, then ate hot dogs and roasted s’mores over the bonfire at the pumpkin patch. There were farm animals to pet and a hayride, and Maggie had as much fun as any of the little kids milling about. Sipping apple cider, she watched the families with young children, imagining what it would be like to someday bring her own sons or daughters to the pumpkin patch. She imagined a little boy with big green eyes and rumpled hair, then sucked in a breath, choking on the juice.
Griffin hadn’t even been able to say he loved her back and already she was imagining kids who looked like him. She needed to slow down in a big way.
She concentrated on the moment and her family. The ride home in the golden light of the fall afternoon was picturesque, and it felt like weeks’ worth of emotional baggage had been lifted from her shoulders.
Until they pulled up to the house.
“What’s Grammy’s car doing here?” Ben asked warily.
Morgan groaned. “She’s on the porch waiting for us.”
Maggie’s stomach lurched. “I have a feeling she’s waiting for me.”
“I’m sure she hasn’t been here long,” her father said, reaching over to pat her leg. “The timing is probably a coincidence.”
“We could keep driving,” Morgan suggested in an overly bright tone.
“It’s fine, Mo-Mo.” He parked next to the white Lexus in the driveway and Vivian was already halfway across the yard by the time Maggie climbed out of the front seat.
“Where have you been?” She pointed at Maggie. “Why are none of you picking up your phones?”
“We went to a pumpkin patch,” Jim said with a smile, coming to stand next to Maggie. “And left our phones at the house. Come to think of it, I should have asked you to join us on the outing. We got an extra pumpkin so you can come over for carving later this—”
“Did you know about it?” Grammy demanded, coming to stand in front of Maggie, eyes blazing. “Did Griffin tell you first?”
“Tell me what?” Maggie forced her features to remain even.
“The planned expansion at Harvest,” her grandmother said through clenched teeth. “A boutique inn and reception hall. It’s a full-out assault on the Miriam Inn and our events center. They’re trying to cripple our business. They’re out to ruin us.”
“Mom,” Jim said calmly, “let’s go in the house and discuss this. I’m sure it isn’t as bad as you’re making it seem.”
“Did you know?” Vivian repeated the question to Maggie.
“No,” Maggie admitted. “I have no idea what you’re talkin
g about.”
Grammy studied her for several long seconds, then finally nodded. “At least you haven’t betrayed me completely, despite some of the questionable decisions you’ve been making in town recently.”
Maggie swallowed, licked her dry lips. “I’ve been trying to do what’s right for the community,” she argued, hating that her voice trembled. “The whole community.”
Vivian sniffed. “You need to remember on which side your bread is buttered, young lady.”
“I never understood that saying,” Jim murmured.
“Grammy, don’t threaten Maggie.” Morgan crossed her arms over her chest and took a step forward.
“No sass from you.” Grammy’s focus switched to her younger granddaughter. “You’re a child. You don’t understand the workings of Stonecreek the way I do.” She threw up her hands. “None of you get it. I’ve devoted my whole life to this town...to this family.”
“We know that, Mom,” Jim said quietly. “We appreciate everything you’ve done but—”
“They’re trying to usurp our position,” Grammy said, her voice cracking. She looked away like she needed a moment to compose herself. “I promised my father that I’d make him proud.” Her gaze swung back to Maggie. “He hated that I wasn’t a boy. He thought I’d never make anything of myself because I was too weak.” She wiped hard at her cheeks. “But I showed him. I married your granddad and with the Spencer family’s backing, the Miriam became far more than it had ever been with my father running it. I made him proud, although he was hard-pressed to admit it until the day he died.”
She looked at each of them. “I won’t have all of our success—my accomplishments—undone by that family of upstarts. People who forget their place.”
“Grammy.” Maggie placed a gentle hand on her grandmother’s thin shoulder. “Everyone knows how much you’ve done for Stonecreek, but things aren’t like they used to be. I’m sure the plan at Harvest Vineyards isn’t going to ruin your business.”
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