“That I am,” I confirm, all playfulness gone.
Griffin’s eyes assess me, and not in an appreciative way. He looks like he’s determining how to best approach a cornered animal, and I’m sure that’s what I look like.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Raven.”
He says it so matter-of-factly. I know it’s meant to reassure me, and it’s said in a way that makes me feel like he doesn’t mean just now. He’s telling me that he would never hurt me.
How long has it been since anyone said that to me?
Never.
Clients didn’t care to calm me down or put me at ease. They paid for their time with me. They could do whatever they wanted. Even when I was locked up, I was never told I wouldn’t be hurt.
Part of my brain is screaming at me to grab Noah and run. Fuck my plan and what I came here to do. Noah’s safety and well-being will always come first.
But a much louder part of me is telling me that I can trust Griffin. He may ruin my panties every time he gets close, but he would never raise his hand toward me with the intention to do harm.
Letting out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, I nod. If he opened his arms right now, there’s a ninety percent chance that I’d run right to him and welcome the embrace. I’m so damn tired, but I can’t let that be the reason I let my guard down completely.
“Let me help you, please,” Griffin pleads.
Bringing back some of my sarcasm to ease the tension, I quirk a brow. “Do you magically have cell service?”
He scoffs, feeling my apprehension begin to deflate. “No, but I have a hitch, a tow bar, and chains so we can get you and your son out of this heat.”
His mention of the sun reminds me that I’m probably already sunburnt.
Great.
“Do you have what we need to change the tire instead? I think that would be easier,” I suggest.
“I left my jack at home.” Griffin shrugs.
I sigh. “Okay. A tow would be great. Thank you.”
Even though I’ve calmed down, Griffin still walks toward me with caution. When he gets to my side, he peers inside. Noah looks at Griffin like any curious child who has been through a shitshow would. Skeptically.
“Who are you?” Noah’s distrust is obvious.
Griffin’s eyes soften as his gaze roams over Noah. I suddenly know what he sees. Noah’s scar. I stiffen, waiting for the shameful comments.
Instead, Griffin holds his hand out to Noah. “I’m Griffin. What’s your name?” Each muscle in my body slowly melts.
Griffin Montgomery, everyone. Sexy as hell and good with kids.
Lord, help me and my panties, please.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GRIFFIN
She’s a mom. Fuck. Raven is a mother. She had sex, got pregnant, and made a whole fucking human in her body.
Why does the thought of her having sex with another man make my blood boil? I have no claim over her, and I’m not a caveman.
When I stumbled upon a car on the side of the road with its hazard lights blinking, I didn’t think I’d find Raven. Not to mention the fact that she’s wearing a pair of jeans that look like they were tailor-made to show off her ass in a way that makes me want to get my hands on it.
Noah puffs his chest up at my gesture, wanting to meet my sign of respect with robustness. He puts his hand in mine and replies, “I’m Noah.” He studies me further. “You look like my friend.”
