I smile. “Triple espresso?”
He raises his cup. “And unsalted butter on mine.”
“Ugh,” I scrunch my nose. “You have no sense of adventure.”
“Excuse me. I held a three-toed sloth yesterday. I amall aboutadventure.”
“How are you not sore everywhere?” I ask, feeling like I’m a million years old.
“I work out.” He flexes, and I toss a pillow at him. “And Iamsore. Thank God we only have brunch today because I’m going to take a page out of Clay’s book and have a nap after your family leaves.” He gives me a seductive side-eye.
“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, it’s not a nap. It’s an Afternoon Delight.”
“I’ll have one of those too.” He raises his eyebrows.
“We go one night without doing the nasty, and you can’t handle it.”
“I know,” he says, acting shocked. “Seriously though. Have you enjoyed having them here?”
“It’s the first time since I ran away from Landon that I’ve really talked to my sister. It was hard having Celeste mad at me for marrying you, but she gets it now. She likes you. That’s all that matters.”
I take a bite of my bagel. It hits the spot. “This is perfect.”
“Good,” Griffin says. “So does Landon know what happened?”
“I guess my sister told him because his mental health was suffering. He thought I was suicidal.”
“Please,” Griffin scoffs. “My girl might be a runner, but she’s a survivor. She’s not taking herself out of the game.” He squeezes my knee.
I laugh. “I think she told him something along those lines.”
“I hope she told him you’re married to a billionaire.” He puffs out his chest.
“Are you?” I ask. I honestly don’t know.
“Yeah. In assets and investments, yes.” He laughs. “You’re funny. You care so little about my money you didn’t even ask until we’d been married two weeks.”
“A girl has to be polite,” I drawl in a Southern accent.
“Impressive.” He sips his coffee. “I don’t know what she told him exactly. Strange numbers keep popping up on my phone, but I block them. Honestly, I haven’t thought much about him.”
“I hope I’m the reason.” He makes a silly, smarmy face that makes me burst into laughter.
“You definitely are.”
There’s a knock at the door.
“It’s Celeste,” my sister calls out. “I’m making pancakes. How many for you guys?”
“The chefs must love having them here,” I whisper.
“I’m not sureloveis the word I’d use,” Griffin mutters. He raises his voice. “You go ahead and serve the family, Celeste. Selena and I have had breakfast.”
“Okay. They’ll be extra if you want some later.”
“Thank you,” he calls back.
I hear her retreat. I feel a little guilty hiding away in our room.
