“Oh, Griffin.” She set her hands on his face, unable to stop herself. His skin was warm, his whiskers prickly, and she recognized every curve on his jaw. “How many times do I need to tell you?” She put one hand on his chest, over his heart. “This is what I fell in love with. Your heart. That’s it. Nothing else. Just this.”
Griffin bowed his head, and his shoulders shook with emotion.
Clare kissed the top of his head, and then laid her cheek against his hair. It felt so right to be with him again. To hold him.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her, resting his face against her chest, almost like a small lost boy. Only he was a strong, powerful man, with a life and a future so enormous that he would never be able to stop long enough to fit her in.
She kissed his head again. “Griffin, I need to go home. Katie’s waiting for me.”
He lifted his head but didn’t loosen his grip on her. “I’m the one who’s been waiting for you, Clare. I need you.”
“Oh, no.” She pushed him back. “No.”
Confusion flickered across his handsome face. “But you just said you loved me.”
“I do, I do.” She slipped under his arm and moved away from him, needing space. “But it was a lie.”
His face hardened. “It was a lie that you loved me?”
“No! I would never lie about that, I swear!” Clare protested.
“Then what’s the lie?”
“That I was okay with what we had.” At his puzzled expression, she tried to explain. “I said I would take you for a few days, that whatever you could give me was enough, and I could let you go. But I can’t do that.” She hugged herself, the words breaking her in half. “I can’t open my heart to you and know that your soul is calling you elsewhere. I can’t take another day or another night with you, and know you’re leaving or that your attention is two hundred miles south,” she said softly. “I want the fairytale, and I can’t accept anything less.”
Griffin leaned against the hood of her car, his arms folded across his chest. “What’s your fairytale, Clare? What do you wish for in your Prince Charming?”
“What do I wish for?” She looked up at the stars, at the way they lit up the sky. “That’s what I wish for.” She gestured to the expanse of twinkling darkness. “A love so huge and so powerful, that it sweeps across everything. It’s always there. It’s fuller than a heart can hold, so it spills out into the world and fills everything around it with more love. It’s there when I fall asleep. It’s there when I wake up.” She met Griffin’s gaze. “It’s there every time I breathe in, every time I breathe out, and with every beat of my heart.”
“That’s it?”
She stared at him in disbelief. “That’s a lot, Griffin. That’s everything.”
A slow, tremendous smile filled his lovely face, and he held out his hand. “Come.”
She shoved her hands into her front pockets.
He laughed softly and dropped his hand. “Here’s the thing, Clare. I don’t know how to be a dad. I don’t know how to be a husband. I’ve pretty much failed at both. I don’t know when to hug or when to get ice cream in the middle of the night, or any of that.”
Something began to stir inside her. Was it hope? No, no, not hope. Please not hope. She folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “So, what’s your point?”
“My point, Clare, is that there’s one thing I can do. I didn’t know I could, but you showed me that I can.”
“And what’s that?”
He met her gaze. “Love.”
Tears filled her eyes. “No, don’t, Griffin. I can’t—”
He began walking toward her. “But you have to promise to believe in me. Because when you look at me like I’m this amazing man, I seem to do what’s right. I know when to hold you, or when to tell you to toughen up. As long as you love me like that—”
“Stop it!” She scrambled backward as he reached for her. “I can’t handle a man who wants to be somewhere else—”
“I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
She backed into the side of his ridiculous truck, and there was nowhere else to go as he approached her. “Griffin—”
“I want to be right here.” He stopped in front of her. “I want to be with you. And Katie. And Brooke.”
“But—”
“I don’t want to go back to Boston,” he said. “I don’t want to go back to my condo.” He took her hand and went down on his knee.
She stared at him. “Don’t—”
“Clare Gray,” he said. “I was dead when I came up here, and you opened my heart. A man would be a damned fool to walk away, and I am one of the smartest damn people I know.”
“Please don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she whispered. “Please. I can’t let myself love you and then have you leave in six months. I can’t do that.”
“You don’t have to.” He tugged her hand, and she eased down to her knees in front of him. He held up his finger to tell her to wait, then he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He put it on speaker phone and then dialed. She saw from the display that he was calling his business partner.
“What—”
He pressed his finger to her lips as Phillip’s voice slurred out into the night. “Griff? You down here already? I’ve got your seat all ready and a bottle of champagne waiting for you—”
“I’m out,” Griffin said.
“Out of what?”
“In Your Face.”
Clare sucked in her breath, certain she’d heard wrong. “What?”
“What?” Phillip said, all amusement gone. “What the hell are you talking about? We’re signing papers in eight hours—”
“I’m staying in Birch Crossing. I’m going to marry Clare, I’m buying the local general store, and I’m going to learn how to be a dad to two teenage daughters.” He looked at Clare. “And maybe have a son, too.”
Phillip swore. “But—”
Griffin hung up and tossed the phone over his shoulder. He grinned. “So, yeah, don’t say you won’t marry me, because I’ve thrown away all my other options.”
She was too stunned to react. “I don’t understand. That’s your dream.”
“No.” He took her hands. “You’re my dream. What you bring into my life, that’s my dream. I just didn’t know how to get there, and you showed me the way. Marry me, Clare Gray. Marry me right now, so that neither of us has to go another moment without each other ever again.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
He didn’t seem to believe her, as he simply raised his eyebrows, and gathered her into his arms. “And why is that?”
“Because you never said you loved me. I can’t marry a man who doesn’t love me.”
He smiled and stroked her hair back from her face. “My dear, sweet, Clare, I love you more than my heart can hold. I love you more than all the stars in the sky, and I love you for the beauty of your soul, the lightness of your spirit, and for the way my entire being comes alive when you focus those beautiful blue eyes on me and tell me that you love me.”
And then he kissed her, the most beautiful, most magical, the most wonderful kiss that had ever been, and she knew that the young girl who had given up magical fantasies at age eighteen, had finally had her dreams come true.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I will marry you.”
Norm’s hat was exactly where it belonged.
Griffin grinned as he caught sight of one of the town’s old timers setting a cold bottle of Birch’s Best on Norm’s stool beside his old, worn hat. In the month since Norm’s passing, there had been a cold beer on that stool every minute of the day that Wright’s was open.
As it should be.
Griffin shut the door to the storage room with his foot and walked into the main section of the store, holding the box he’d gone in there to retrieve.
Sam White, one of Norm’s buddies, slammed his hand down on Griffin’s shoulder. “Griff! Didya hear the news?”
Griffin grinned. “I sure did. Three baby loons from the pair by your place. It’s been, what, eighteen years, since a nesting pair on this lake has had three chicks?”
“Nineteen years, Griff! Nineteen! It’s a sign that new life is coming to the region, I’m telling you. You gotta come see them. It’s a damned record.” Sam leaned forward, his Pirates baseball cap askew on his head. “All the local artists are hanging out in my woods painting them. You should see this old gal.” He waggled his bushy eyebrows, giving Griffin a lecherous look. “She may be close to seventy, but she’s got a spring in her step enough to make an old man sit up and take notice.” He raised his brows, vulnerability flashing in his weathered face. “You think I oughta go for it?”
Griffin grinned. “How many times has she come by to paint?”
“Been there every day for a week. She’s done at least ten paintings so far.”
Griffin raised his brows. “Sam. How many paintings of the same damn birds does she have to do before you figure it out?”
The older man’s eyes widened, and then he got a big shit-eating grin on his wrinkled face. “You think?”
“I do.” Griffin jerked his head toward the deli. “Ophelia!”
His deli manager waved a spatula at him, a hot pink scarf from Astrid tied in her hair. It was a new look for her, but Astrid had insisted that Ophelia could pull it off, and she’d been right. It seemed to give Ophelia even more attitude than she used to have, and he was damned glad to see the exuberance shining in her eyes. The woman’s inner strength was awe-inspiring, and the whole town had rallied around her. The gal hadn’t spent an evening alone in her apartment in the last month, and she was getting a killer reputation around the bridge table. “Your omelet’s coming, Griffin, and you’re getting ham this time. You’re too damn skinny!”
Griffin didn’t bother to argue. It was an argument he knew he’d never win. “Sam needs to go woo a girl. Can you put together a picnic basket for him?”
Ophelia whistled loudly. “That old coot is too ornery to fit a woman in his life, but if it gets him out of our hair, then it’s worth a try.” She gestured at him. “Get over here, Sam, and tell me about her so I can set you up right.”
Sam slugged Griffin on the shoulder, straightened the collar of his tee shirt, and then hauled ass across the crowded store toward the deli.
Griffin grinned, then headed back toward the register. He set the carton on the counter in front of Heather Burns, the woman he’d gotten formula for that night a month ago when Norm had died. “Joey is in size three diapers now, right?”
Heather smiled at him, her face so much less stressed than it had been that night. “I was just going to ask you to order size threes!”
Griffin winked as he rang up her order. “Harry told me that the size twos were getting tight, so I figured you’d need them soon. It was easy to toss them into my order last week.”
“You’re the best.” She blew him a kiss as she hurried out of the store, her arms full.
The line of customers taken care of for the moment, Griffin did what had become such habit over the last month and checked out the table in the corner. The familiar sight filled him with such a sense of rightness.
Clare and Astrid were huddled up with her computer, working on her website. Sitting at the same table were Brooke and Katie, and he could see their colored drawings of new ideas for cupcakes.
As he watched them, Clare looked up. The moment her eyes met his, the chaos and bustle of the room melted away, until it was just them, just her, a connection that would hold him forever. She smiled at him, and lightly laid her hand over her heart. Griffin’s throat tightened, and he gave her a single nod, just for her, for no one else. Tonight was date night at the Finch Grill, and he couldn’t wait to lose himself in her without the chaos of the town around them.
Brooke looked at Clare, then turned around to see what she was looking at. When she saw Griffin watching them, her face brightened and she waved at him. “Come see, Dad! You should see our displays! They look awesome.”
Griffin grinned. “Yeah, sure.” He started to head over there, and then the front door flew open and Jackson strode in, wearing his customary jeans and boots.
He waved a cardboard tube at Griffin. “Here are the latest plans for the addition you want me to build onto Wright’s. We need to move the cupcake display more to the left to make room for the tables, and I adjusted the ceiling height to allow more space for Emma’s paintings and the ceiling fans.”
Anticipation coiled through Griffin. He took the plans out of the tube and spread them over the counter. He nodded with satisfaction as he saw what Jackson had done. The amount of knowledge Jackson had acquired during his years of construction was impressive, and his talent with designs was even better than Griffin had suspected after his first visit to Jackson’s house. The nursery Jackson had designed and built had been incredible, and Griffin had known immediately that it was Jackson who needed to design Clare’s store. “Damn, you’re good man.”
Jackson grinned. “I know. How about that, huh?”
Griffin studied the drawings. “When we finish with the cupcake shop, I want you to design and build an addition to the farmhouse next. We need a master suite, and Brooke needs her own room, even though she and Katie are enjoying their sleepovers when Brooke stays over.”
Jackson nodded. “I’ll check with my boss and see when we can fit it in.”
Griffin shook his head. “No. You need to build it. Your vision is what I want, not his.”
Interest flashed in Jackson’s eyes. “I thought having me build the addition to Wright’s myself was a one-time-thing.”
Griffin shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to push the soon-to-be-dad too far. Not yet. But he
knew Jackson’s talents wouldn’t remain a secret once people saw what he was doing with the store’s addition. “One more project. That’s all. You game?”
Jackson shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I can fit it in. Got a few more months before the baby arrives and I could use the extra cash” He thudded his hand on Griffin’s shoulder. “Thanks for the extra work. I appreciate it.”
“It’s not charity. You’re the best, and I want the best.” Griffin rolled up the plans to take them to Clare. “Do you have time to go over these now?”
“Nope.” Jackson winked. “Trish is waiting in the truck for me. We’re going shopping for paint colors for the nursery. I want blue, she wants green.” His grin widened. “It’s gonna be a battle. Wish me luck.”
Griffin smiled. “It’s just paint, Jackson. Let her win.”