Page 37 of Harts & Hurts

“Where are we going?”

“I’m not telling you. It’s a surprise.”

I closed my mouth and let the musical stylings of the old-school R&B jams coming from the radio be the only sounds in the truck. I sat back and closed my eyes. I felt so relaxed—full, content, happy, and relaxed. “Griff?”

“What’s up?”

“I don’t really care where you’re taking me. Just . . . thank you for taking me. Thank you for planning whatever you have planned. It’s really thoughtful.”

His opened hand landed on my thigh, and he squeezed. “Saying shit like that is gonna get you taken out at least once a week. You’re welcome. You deserve it. You deserve to be spoiled and catered to. You give your whole self to Melrose . . . and to me. We appreciate you. We need you to feel that.”

“Felt.” I whispered barely loud enough for my own ears to hear.

Jackson Island wasn’t large, so it wasn’t long before we made it from the commercial, more touristy area to the business district. Griffin slowed the truck down, hit the turn signal, and pulled into the parking lot of a building. There were other vehicles in the parking lot but not many.

I sat up and looked around. “Where are we?”

He parked with a grin on his face, jumped out of the driver’s seat, and walked around to my side. “Let’s go, lil’ mama.”

I took his hand and stepped out of the truck. As we walked toward the building, the sign came into view. Design House South Carolina presents Structure & Soul at Jackson Island. “Design House? Are you even serious right now?” The volume and excitement in my voice rose with each word.

“Yeah.” Griffin’s expression had the nerve to be sheepish, as if he wasn’t making my every dream come true by bringing me to a Design House exhibit. “The description on the website said something like this is supposed to be a living, immersive playground for design enthusiasts.”

“The website is right!” The wide grin on my face had my cheeks aching. “Oh my goodness. Design House travels from state-to-state, city-to-city, setting up spaces . . . exhibits centered around what’s new, popular, and trending in artistic design for homes. I’ve always wanted to attend an exhibit, but I’ve never gotten around to doing it.” I turned toward him, but I didn’t stop walking toward the door of the building. I actually wanted to take off running toward it, but I fought to keep my cool. “What made you do this?”

“Brooklyn. You remember her? She’s Cameron’s wife.”

“Of course, I remember her. She helped me get Melrose set up at the community center.”

“Right. She came by the studio the other day to drop something off for him, and she mentioned it to me in passing because she knows you’re working on the main house. I looked it up online and thought it would be something you would like.” He shrugged his shoulders. “So, I bought the tickets.”

“The more time I spend around you, the more I see similarities between you and Fisher. I might just have to forgive your mama. I mean, I’m not her biggest fan, but I can admit that she raised some good sons.”

“Thanks. Did you know my brother well?”

“Um, kind of. They lived in Norfolk when I was in college at Hale-Williams. Sometimes, I just needed to get off campus. I would end up at their apartment. Fisher was always so kind to me. You know, he was the first member of your family that I knew beyond a surface level. I mean, I went through twelve years of schooling with your sister, Marissa. No shade, but that girl is . . .” I wanted to be honest with him and say she was a bitch. At the same time, I wouldn’t really appreciate somebody calling Amberlyn a bitch to my face, so I decided to use diplomacy. “Marissa can be an acquired taste, and I never got there. I have always—and I mean always—found her somewhat . . . hateful.”

He chuckled. “I can see that.”

“But Fisher was always so pleasant. He was innately kind. He never treated me like a pesky little sister. He always seemed glad to see me show up at their door and sad to see me leave.”

“Fish loved family. You were his family. I think when he got with Ashlynn, he felt like he had to give up our family, to a certain extent.” He sighed. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear it, but it’s done my heart good, hearing that both you and your mom accepted him into your family.”

“We absolutely loved Fisher. He was an honorary Melrose. Don’t tell your mother.”

We both laughed as Griffin held the door for me so I could enter Structure & Soul. The two of us stepped into what was essentially a humongous warehouse that had been partitioned off to create rooms. It was almost like a museum, where the exhibit spaces were rooms that had been transformed into the artist’s interpretation. The rooms had been decorated by some of the most notable designers to reside in the southeast region of the country. We stood in a short line to present our tickets and receive the information about the best way to experience the exhibits.

“It shouldn’t be too crowded, because this after-hours event was exclusively set up for design professionals and industry elites.”

I tried not to burst. Not only had he brought me to an event that I’d been wanting to see for the longest, but he’d also brought me on a night set apart for industry elites. “Wow.” It was all I could manage to say with so many thoughts and emotions running through me. “Thank you, Griff.”

He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You’re welcome.”

Once we’d given our tickets to the associate, she presented each of us with a brochure that outlined every room, every style, and every designer represented in the five-thousand-square-foot space.

“This is your world,” he told me. “You lead the way.”

I was practically giddy. “I’m about to get so many ideas. I’m so glad we haven’t started buying furniture yet, because I would probably want to change everything if I had. Let’s start here.” I took Griffin’s hand and led him to a bedroom done in the grandmillennial style.