Chapter 11

Anya

Once I settle into the front seat of Griffin's truck, I lean back in the seat, looking out the window. I wonder what Tripp is doing getting in trouble with the police.

Sure, he's been hanging out with the wrong crowd, and coming home late at night, but I figured it was like every eighteen-year-old who isn't serious about anything in life.

"I'll bring you back for your car later," Griffin says as he pulls onto the road to lead us back to town.

"Thank you," I whisper. I know Griffin wants to talk about what happened in the lake, but I can't bring myself to even think about it. "You're a fixer," I say, barely audible.

"What?" he asks.

I turn to face him. "You're a fixer. You always have been." I don't know much about Griffin's life, but I do know how he's always been the one to fix things when we were younger.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've always been the one to fix things. Look at my brothers, every time they fight you're the voice of reason to calm them all down, fixing the issues between them. Remember when Millie opened her bookstore? You were the one to gather everyone in town to help her fix the place up."

"Everyone but Tripp showed up," Griffin says, remembering back to that sunny afternoon.

I laugh lightly, remembering what Tripp said. "Tripp said he'd get hives being around that many books."

Griffin laughs. "So, I fix things, that doesn't mean I didn't want to kiss you."

My chest gets all warm and fuzzy, but I try to keep my wits about me. "It kind of does. You knew I was upset about trying to kiss you, and you wanted to fix it. It's fine. We shouldn't be kissing anyways because we work together," I say, knowing that nothing good can come from kissing Griffin.

It's not like he'd ever want to date me.

Griffin doesn't say anything to what I said, and I guess it's better that way. I look out the window again, watching the passing greenery blur before me. My thoughts turn to Tripp, and I worry my bottom lip between my teeth.

Griffin's hand lands on my thigh, and it sends a jolt of electricity traveling up my spine. "I'm sure he'll be okay."

"I feel like he's never going to grow up. Like he has some sort of death wish or something."

Griffin removes his hand, and I instantly miss the warmth of it. "He's just taking longer to grow up than the rest of us."

"It's because my mother spoils him," I say with a smile, and I think about Griffin. I don't know much about his home life growing up. Except that he was at our house more than his own. "What about you?" I ask him.

"What about me?"

"Did your mother spoil you?"

Griffin's dark eyes meet mine quickly before he focuses back on the road. But in that moment I see a lifetime of pain hidden behind his irises. It makes me regret my question.

"You don't have to tell me," I say, wishing I could erase this quiet moment stretching between us.

"How much of my life has Callum told you?"

"He's told me nothing. In case you haven't noticed, Callum and I aren't what you'd call close."

Griffin blows out a deep breath. "Growing up wasn't easy in my house. My mother tried, but she cared more about keeping my father happy than about me."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

Griffin's hand lands back on my thigh, and I reach down and rest my hand over his, hoping he'll continue telling me about his life. "My father was an asshole. Well, he still is. I haven't seen him in years and that's how I like it."

"I think I've maybe seen your dad once in my whole life."

Griffin's father toils away at the lumber yard situated on the outskirts of our small town, his presence casting a shadow over our community. Despite the lack of formal introductions, his reputation precedes him. "Yeah, you're fortunate not to cross paths with him. He's not the most pleasant person," Griffin confides in me.

"I'm sorry," I respond, feeling a pang of empathy for Griffin. "It makes sense now why you spent so much time at our place."

"Callum never questioned it. He just welcomed me in whenever he could," Griffin shares, a hint of gratitude coloring his voice.

I can't help but smile. "It's reassuring to know that Cal does have a heart. I was beginning to wonder."

Griffin chuckles softly, the warmth of his touch seeping through my jeans as his thumb draws gentle circles. "I honestly can't fathom where I'd be without Callum. Probably six feet under or behind bars. That's why I'd go to the ends of the earth for your family."

His tender gesture leaves me feeling light-headed, prompting me to shift my fingers to trace the contours of his hand. "I'm grateful he was able to be that support for you. Have you spoken to your parents recently?"

Griffin removes his hand, placing it back on the wheel so he can make a turn toward the police station. "Last time I talked to them was before I left for culinary school. My father told me I was being an ungrateful piece of shit leaving like I was, and that I needed to get a job and help out with the bills around the house." Griffin swings into the parking lot, pulling his truck into a spot. He kills the ignition, and turns to face me. "I felt bad for leaving. For a long time I felt I should have helped my parents pay bills, but I felt I could help them more if I made something of myself." He hangs his head low. "I don't know," he blows out.

I want to hug him. Something inside me explodes with emotion as I sit here and stare at him. He's really quite gorgeous, but it's more than that. There's this vulnerability there that makes me want to reach out and touch him in some way. "I'm glad you left," I tell him, happy he went to make something of himself. "You love cooking."

His eyes crash into mine. "I do love it."

My heart squeezes in my chest, having his full attention on me. It makes me want to lean in and kiss him again, but I know that's not the answer.

This man has done everything he can for our family. He feels like he owes us in some small way, and I'm sure that's why he felt he needed to make things right with me.

I can't lay that on him.

I shouldn't have tried to come onto him. I'm an asshole.

"You're a good man," I tell him, because it's true.

Something flickers behind his eyes as he stares at me. "Let's go and get your brother."

"Will you do one thing for me?" I ask him.

"Sure. You know I'd do anything for you."

I smile, my heart doing that flippity-flop thing it always seems to do in Griffin's presence. "Please keep me from killing him."