He leans forward, elbows resting on the table. His fingers tap absently against his glass of water before he finally speaks again. “Talk to me. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”
“I don’t want kids,” I blurt.
The topic can be a deal breaker for a lot of people. Ever since the pregnancy test, I’ve wondered if he wants children. It’s not that I don’t like kids, I just never saw them for myself. I’m content with my store and my simple lifestyle.
“Good.” He doesn’t hesitate. He takes a drink of water before setting the glass down with a clink. “Never saw myself as father material anyway. My line of work doesn’t exactly foster a kid friendly environment.” His fingers drum on the table before he meets my gaze again. “You and me? We’re enough. More than enough, alright?”
Relief washes over me. “Okay.” I pause. “Would you ever be open to getting a vasectomy? You know, later on when we’ve been together for a while?”
I told him I want to take things slow. I feel like it’s presumptuous of me to ask. But I’m not a fan of hormonal birth control methods and how they make me feel.
He chokes on his water, nearly spitting it out before thumping a fist against his chest with a cough. “Sunshine, I’d let you book the appointment tomorrow if you wanted.” He raisesan eyebrow and grins. “Hell, I’ll let you drive me there so I can bitch about the ice pack on the way home.”
Georgia returns with two massive milkshakes, rolling her eyes at Griffin’s coughing fit. “You good over here?”
He waves her off and grabs his chocolate shake like nothing happened. “Peachy. Just discussin’ future investments.”
“He said this place has bacon cheeseburgers to die for. I’d like mine well done, please.” I smile warmly at her, while trying not to laugh at Griffin’s antics.
“One well done bacon cheeseburger for the lady.” She smiles, scribbling on her notepad with a practiced flick of her wrist. “And let me guess, you want yours still mooin’ like last time?”
He smirks and tips his milkshake at her. “You know me too well, Georgia.”
She rolls her eyes, chuckling as she tucks the notepad in her apron pocket. “Be back in twenty. Try not to scare off your date while I’m gone, Griff.”
He waits until she’s out of earshot to lean back over the table. His voice drops to a low timbre that makes my stomach flip. “So, you plannin’ to hold my hand durin’ this hypothetical vasectomy? Or just laugh at my sufferin’ from the waitin’ room?”
“If you want me to. You held my hand today so it’s only fair.” I take a sip of my milkshake and let out a small moan of approval. “Oh wow, this is really good.”
He watches me over the rim of his glass as he takes a long sip of his own. His eyes darken. “Never thought I’d be jealous of a fuckin’ milkshake.” He sets it down and takes my hand, pulling it closer. “But here I am.”
I roll my eyes and worry my lip ring between my teeth. There’s so many things we’ve never talked about. So much I don’t know about him. I’m getting first date jitters when he’s already been in my pants. I take another sip and avoid looking at him.
His hand tightens around mine. “You doin’ alright over there?” His brow furrows, maybe thinking I’m dealing with the aftershocks of the afternoon. “You don’t have to put on a brave face for me, Wildflower. You know that.”
I huff out a nervous laugh. “I’ve known you for two weeks but feel like I don’t ‘know’ you. And you never ask personal questions so I don’t get the chance to reciprocate. Past the fact that you’re a bounty hunter who speaks multiple languages, owns a cabin in the mountains, and can take down two grown men in the blink of an eye—I’m running blind. So no, I don’t know that.”
He holds my gaze steadily, tracing soft circles on my hand. When I finish talking he scoffs, lets go of my hand and leans forward, bracing his forearms on the edge of the table. “You know enough. You know that I’ve been chasin’ scumbags and catchin’ ‘em for over fourteen years. You know how I take my coffee and how I like my burgers. You know that I sleep better with you curled up against me. That I can’t get enough of that goddamn laugh, even though I barely get to hear it. You know that I’d walk through fire for you.”
“I didn’t know the thing about the laugh,” I say quietly, caught off guard by his confession. I pull my hand back and put it in my lap. “But I don’t know anything about your family, if you’ve ever been married, where you grew up, how you got that scar below your collarbone, how you met Jax and Bishop.”
His jaw flexes briefly, letting me know his answers aren’t going to be pretty. He sighs, choosing his words carefully. “Parents were addicts. Foster system in Texas after that. Never saw them again. Never cared to.” He rubs the outside of his milkshake glass. “Married? No. Jax was with me back in the Marines. Only reason I got outta that life with a pulse instead of six-feet-under.” His hand drifts up to press against the scar beneath his collarbone. “Got this one at twenty-four, chasin’some fucker through Detroit, who thought stabbin’ me would make me let go.” A grin cuts across his face. “It didn’t.”
He taps the table. “Bishop found me thirteen years ago bleedin’ out in an alley after a job went sideways. Took one look at me and said, ‘Kid, you got two choices: die stupid or live smarter.’ Guess you know which one I picked.” Quieter now, his tone cautionary. “You want more? You ask. But fair warnin’, most of my stories aren’t gonna help you sleep at night.”
A lifetime of darkness casts those shadows around his shoulders. Not something bad that happened once. But one thing after another. When Jax said he had the market cornered, he wasn’t kidding. Something inside me aches openly for what he’s gone through. I ask for background and end up with two instances where he was left bleeding out. From the scars I’ve seen on his body, I know there are more. The way he opened up and gave me a peek into his past makes me want to return the favor. I never talk about what I’ve been through. I don’t feel the need for the false pity and empty comfort that usually comes from sharing the darker parts of yourself. I don’t want to offer him that. So I offer a piece of me instead.
“My parents died five years ago in a car accident. They were on their way home from a movie when a drunk driver ran them off the road. I used the insurance money to buy the building for Moonglow. It’s why my store means so much to me. It’s all I have left of them.”
“Thank you for trustin’ me with all that.” He reaches over, takes my hand and raises it to his lips. “I know it’s not easy.”
“I don’t talk about it a lot. But I can’t ask you to bare your soul without showing you a bit of mine, can I?” I sit back and sigh. I know relationships come next and I’m not proud of my choices.
He senses my hesitation and goes first. “Last serious relationship was eight years ago.” He shrugs. “Some diplomat'sdaughter who thought she could ‘fix’ me. Lasted six months before she realized I wasn’t a stray puppy.” His smirk returns but this time it’s self-deprecating. “Had my fair share of distractions since then. But nothin’ that stuck.” He pauses. “‘Til you.”
I shake my head. “Give it time.”
I’m still not convinced this is real, even though he shows me in so many little ways. Hell, he’s shown me in a lot of big ways, too. But, it’s one of those things that feels too good to be true. Where’s the other shoe? And how many times do I hurt this man’s feelings before I stop waiting for it to drop.
