Cant Let Go GO PL

by Barbara Freethy

  "We didn't love each other enough," he said simply, realizing that was probably the truest thing he'd told her.

  "I'm sorry it didn't work out."

  "I'm not. I'm glad we figured that out before we made things permanent. How about you, Annie? Ever made it close to the altar?"

  "No. I've had a couple of boyfriends. One lasted about two years in my early twenties. Nothing dramatic broke us up. We just realized we weren't that awesome together. We were more likely to bring out the worst in each other than the best."

  He was continually taken aback by how candid Annie was. He wished he could be as honest with her.

  "Hey, there's a sign for the Christmas tree farm," she said. "It's the next left."

  He turned off the main highway and took a side road to the farm. They parked in a dirt lot and then got out of the car.

  The sun was shining more brightly now, bringing a warmth to the sea air. They picked up a saw at the counter and then Annie suggested they go toward the back where the bigger trees were. He wasn't that picky about trees and would have been happy to chop down the first one that seemed fairly symmetrical, but Annie clearly had other ideas.

  "It doesn't have to be perfect," he told her.

  "Not perfect but perfectly right," she said with a smile. "Let's keep looking."

  They spent several more minutes roaming through lines of trees. Annie might not be judgmental about people, but when it came to Christmas trees, she had a lot of opinions. One was too short, another too thin, one was lopsided, another had sagging branches. He didn’t think he'd ever spent so much time studying trees. But he wasn't going to complain, because it felt good to be out of the bar, and more importantly to be with her.

  Finally, she paused in front of a nine-foot tree. "What about this one?"

  "Looks good to me, but then so have the last dozen."

  She walked around the tree, viewing it from a few different directions. "I like it. I think we found our tree, Griffin."

  He wished he didn't like the way she'd said our so much. It made him think of spending Christmas with Annie. Images of the two of them decorating a tree in front of a roaring fire with Christmas music on in the background shot through his head, and he was truly stunned that his brain had gone there. He'd never had that kind of idyllic Christmas. Why he would even consider he could have it with her was beyond him.

  He really needed to get Annie out of his life fast. She was making him want things he'd never had and things he never could have.

  He hadn't had this problem before. He'd always been able to compartmentalize his life, but Annie's bright light was spilling into every dark corner of his life, and while he knew what to do about it, he just didn't know if he could. It had been a long time since he'd felt connected to anyone. Surprisingly, it felt pretty good. Almost normal. Almost…

  "Griffin," Annie said, waving her hand in a questioning motion. "What are you waiting for? This tree isn't going to chop itself down."

  "Right." He put his mind on the task at hand. He'd get rid of Annie later—much later.

  After cutting down the tree, an attendant helped them wrap it and tie it to the rack on top of his SUV.

  As he drove out of the lot and north on Highway 1, he knew he wasn't ready to take her home because when he did, he would have to say goodbye and mean it. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

  "I am. Do you want to stop? Can we do that with the tree?"

  "I don't think anyone will steal it. There's a café down the road a few miles from here. But I don't want to keep you from prepping for your interview tomorrow."

  "I can do that tonight. I'd love to have lunch."

  "Okay, good." A moment later, he turned in to the parking lot in front of the Fantastic Fish Shack.

  "They're not shy about their food proclamations," Annie said with a laugh as they got out of the car. "Is the fish fantastic?"

  "I've had fish tacos, fish and chips, a filet of cod sandwich, and a crab omelet, and they've all been good."

  "You come out here often." She gave him a questioning look.

  "I do. It's a great surfing spot." He opened the door for her. "After you."

  He followed Annie into the open, airy restaurant whose wall of windows overlooked the beach. A large aquarium ran the length of another wall and the décor was definitely ocean related.

  "Patio or inside?" the hostess asked.

  He tipped his head to Annie. "Your call. Will you be cold outside?"

  "No, I think it will be perfect."

  "We'll take the patio."

  The hostess picked up some menus and led them outside. It was almost three, late for lunch, so there was only one other couple outside enjoying their meal.

  "Wow, another spectacular view," Annie said, taking a seat by the rail, while he sat down across from her. She glanced back at him. "Everywhere I look these days, I see the ocean."

  "It never gets old."

  "It doesn't. I can see why you like this beach. It's very isolated," she added with a teasing smile.

  He couldn't help but smile back at her. As much as he tried to keep a solid line between them, Annie kept crossing over it. He wanted to lean across the table and kiss the smile right off her lips, but then what?

  He knew the answer, but he also knew he couldn't go there. So, maybe it was a good thing there was a table between them.

  Annie's cheeks heated up with pink, and he didn't think it was completely due to the sun.

  "You're staring," she told him.

  "How can I not? You're beautiful, Annie."

  Her lips parted as her gaze widened. "Well…I wasn't expecting you to say that." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then looked down at the menu, clearly uncomfortable with his words.

  He liked that she was flustered by his comment, that she didn't even know how pretty she was. He couldn't remember going out with a woman who was such a mix of sexy and sweet. He wanted to help her off with her clothes and wrap her up in his arms.

  With his body hardening uncomfortably, he also directed his attention to the menu, the words blurring in front of his eyes.

  The waitress set down two glasses of ice water, and he drained half of his in one gulp.

  "I'm going to have the crab salad," Annie said.

  "I'll do the same," he added, as they handed their menus to the waitress.

  "I feel like we're playing hooky," Annie said. "Hanging at the beach in the middle of the day on a Thursday afternoon."

  "You should enjoy your free time while you can."

  "I know. As stressful as it is not to have a job, I have enjoyed having some time to myself. The last ten years have been really busy: school, work, more school, more work."

  "Everyone needs to regroup now and then."

  "Which you obviously did when you went into the bar business. How did you come up with the name Barrel Enterprises? Is it for a wine barrel?"

  "No," he said with a small laugh. "Barrel is also a surfing term. It's the space inside a breaking wave. When you're in the barrel, you can be completely hidden from view. It's a difficult but thrilling ride."

  "That makes more sense. Is Vinnie a surfer, too? I can't quite picture him on the waves. He's so—solid."

  "He mostly likes to paddle out, hang out on his board, and then when he's over it, he paddles back in. So, he does have a board, and he does go out, but I rarely see him catch a wave."

  "Isn't that the most fun of all?"

  "It's definitely fun, and I love it. But there is also something peaceful about just being out on the water, away from the shore, from reality. Vinnie seems to enjoy that the most. But he doesn't spend a lot of time out there. He's good for twenty or thirty minutes, and then he's bored. I could stay out there for hours."

  She nodded. "You definitely like solitude."

  He shrugged. "I can't deny that."

  "You told me earlier that you met Vinnie through friends? He's a bit older than you, isn't he?"

  "He's forty-five, so eleven years older than
me."

  "Wait, you just told me your age—thirty-four. Another detail slips past your defenses."

  He smiled at the triumphant gleam in her eyes. "My age has never been a secret."

  "Unlike every other part of your life."

  "You're just nosy, Annie."

  "Well, I can't deny that," she said, repeating his words. "But I prefer to use words like curious, interested, attentive."

  Her smile warmed him all the way through. He loved how willing she was to admit to her faults, even if she did want to cover them up with prettier words. "I'll bet you do."

  She rested her arms on the table as she gave him a thoughtful look. "I think this is the most relaxed I've ever seen you."

  "I'm tired from cutting down the tree."

  She rolled her eyes. "That was super easy."

  "Hey, I was the one doing the work; you were just directing."

  "Well, we make a good team." She gave him a mischievous grin. "I'm the brains; you're the brawn."

  "I'm good with that," he said, feeling as relaxed as she'd just mentioned. It felt like centuries since he'd embarked on some light-hearted flirting with a beautiful woman—a woman he felt like he could be himself with. Although, that was part of the problem. Annie reminded him of who he used to be, and he couldn't be that person again.

  "Oh, you're good with it," Annie said with a gleam in her eyes. "Or we can make it good with another little kiss."

  "That would definitely work," he agreed.

  "But…" She tipped her head toward the approaching waitress, who was bringing their food. "I think it will have to wait."

  "We will wait," he agreed. "But when it happens—it won't be a little kiss."

  Heat ran through her gaze and warmed her cheeks, but she remained silent as she sat back in her seat and the waitress set their food on the table. He'd probably just made a promise he shouldn't keep. But he knew he would.

  "This looks perfect," Annie said, changing the subject as she picked up her fork.

  "Hopefully fantastic."

  "I'm counting on that."

  He dug into thick pieces of crab, avocado and tomato with hungry delight. It had been hours since his very skimpy breakfast of oatmeal and an orange.

  "I hope Megan's trial goes well tomorrow," Annie said, several minutes later. "I keep thinking about her. Do you ever hear what happens to people after they leave?"

  "I don't ask."

  "You're not curious about them? Because I'm dying to know what's going to happen to Megan after she does whatever she has to do. I really want her to be safe. I want her to have a life."

  "Hopefully, she will, but you can't give that life to her."

  "Maybe I could help. I genuinely liked her."

  "She liked you, too. But you have to let her go. This was just a stopover in her life. She's not coming back."

  "Couldn't she come back if she wanted to—once she's safe?"

  "Of course. I always tell people that, but when they're at the Depot, they're not themselves. They're just pretending. And they usually are happy to be done with the pretense, to be back in their old life."

  "Megan isn't her name, is it?"

  "No. And before you ask—I don't know her real name. I'm not keeping it from you."

  "That I believe." She paused. "By the way, this fish is as fantastic as the sign proclaimed."

  "I'm so glad the restaurant didn't let you down."

  "It was definitely not false advertising." She wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Are you going to decorate the tree when we get back?"

  "I'll do that tomorrow morning when we're closed."

  "You're going to need a lot of ornaments."

  "I have some, but I'm probably going to have to get more," he agreed.

  "Maybe I could contribute. I have a big box of ornaments that I'm not going to use this year, and most of them are handmade. They would add a nice, warm touch to the tree, unless you're going for something more sophisticated."

  "You should use them yourself, Annie. Put up your own tree."

  "Not this year. I'd rather let you borrow them."

  "What if they break or someone takes one? I wouldn't feel right about it."

  "Most of them are not breakable, they're just fun." She paused. "My mom used to give each of us kids an ornament every Christmas. It was often about what we were doing at the time, a sport, or playing a musical instrument or dancing, something that would fit us personally. She took a lot of care in doing it. When we turned eighteen, she gave us each our eighteen ornaments and said they'd be our starter set for our trees as adults."

  Annie's childhood sounded wonderful and nothing like his own. "You definitely don't want to put those ornaments on my bar tree."

  "I wasn't going to give you those. They're…special."

  He saw a glittering light of moisture in her eyes. "Something about Christmas makes you a little sad. What is it?"

  "Hey, you have your secrets; I have mine."

  "I guess I can't argue with that." But he found himself wanting to know what had brought the surprising tears to her eyes. Unfortunately, for the first time in forever, Annie didn't seem inclined to share.

  She sat back as the waitress asked them if they wanted anything else.

  As Annie gave a negative shake of her head, he said, "We'll take the check."

  "Here you go." The waitress handed him the check and then cleared their plates.

  He put down some cash and then looked at Annie, who was gazing out at the ocean, lost in thought. "Annie?"

  She turned back to him. "I guess I feel a little sad this year because I'm rootless. I'm living in an apartment that isn't mine. I don't have a job. Putting up a tree just doesn't feel right. I'm kind of a loser at the moment."

  "That's not true."

  "My siblings are so on top of their games, living their lives, doing important things, and I'm stuck." She let out a breath. "And obviously I am not good at keeping my thoughts to myself. It's just that I don't have a lot of people to talk to right now. I'm sure I'm really attractive with my pathetic loser talk right now."

  "You're not a loser. You're just gearing up for the next step. And I wish you could be unattractive, because that would make things a lot simpler."

  "You always want things to be simple, but hardly anything is."

  "That's true."

  Her gaze met his. "What are we doing, Griffin?"

  He drew in a breath at her blunt question. "I don't know."

  "You run hot and cold with me. I never know which Griffin I'm going to get."

  "I'm sorry about that. Here's the thing, Annie—I'm not looking for a relationship. I don't want to be responsible for someone else's happiness. I don't want to worry about them or have them worry about me. I don't want to lead you on."

  She swallowed hard, looking a bit hurt at his words, but she gave a nod.

  "I get it, Griffin. I'm not looking for a relationship, either. I don't even know where I'm going to be next week or six months from now. And for the record, I never asked you for anything. Men like to assume women all want the same thing, but that's not necessarily true. Sometimes, it's just about having a little fun. You're not against fun, are you?" she challenged, new fire in her green eyes.

  "I'm definitely not against fun," he said dryly. "As long as it doesn't come with strings. And you are the kind of woman who usually comes with strings."

  She lifted her arms in the air. "No strings here. How about we walk on the beach before we go back to the bar? I see some stairs over there. Or is that too much of a commitment for you?"

  "I'm going to regret putting my cards on the table, aren't I?"

  "I guess we'll find out."

  Thirteen

  They walked on the beach for almost thirty minutes, not talking much, and if they did talk, it wasn't about anything too important. That was fine with Annie. Things had gotten a little too serious at the restaurant. Although, she appreciated Griffin putting his cards on the table and at least admitting there was so
mething brewing between them, she hadn't cared for his immediate dismissal about any possible relationship. But she didn't want to make herself a liar for saying she didn't care about the long-term potential, so she was going to keep things cool, see what happened.

  There were a lot of variables in her life right now, and until she knew where she was going to work and live, thinking about a serious relationship was not a good idea anyway.

  But fun was a different story, and she was enjoying her day with Griffin. He had relaxed, opened up a little, smiled more than once, flirted and teased. And while he didn't talk as much as she would like, he was a good listener. He was supportive and interested, and even though he still kept a wall of privacy around himself, she was starting to feel like there was a friendship building, along with all the sparks.

  When they reached an outcropping of rocks, barring them from going any farther, they turned back around. But she wasn't quite ready to return to the car. She dropped her shoes on the ground, having preferred to walk barefoot on the beach rather than ruin her ankle boots. "Let's sit for a minute."

  Griffin joined her on the sand, stretching out his legs in front of him.

  She looked up and down the expanse of beach. "There's absolutely no one around. It feels a little odd."

  "I like it."

  "Big surprise," she said dryly.

  He tipped his head. "We're very different, Annie. You love being around people. I like being alone."

  "It probably has something to do with the way we grew up. I shared a bedroom with my twin sisters until I was thirteen."

  "What changed then?"

  "My oldest brother Dylan went to college. He was not thrilled when I took down all his sports posters and put up my art, but he had to deal."

  "You must have driven your brothers crazy."

  "Oh, and my sisters, too," she said with a laugh. "I think that's the middle child's job, right?"

  "I wouldn't know. It must have been really loud growing up in your house."

  "Super loud," she agreed. "But now it feels like that time went by in a flash. Ian was the quietest of the bunch. He only got into trouble when he started conducting experiments in the garage and almost blew up the house. Did I tell you he's a genius?"

  "You said something about that. What kind of science does he do?"