“So what’s the scoop with you two? Do you think you’ll keep seeing each other after you move?”
“I don’t know. The truth is, I would like to, but I’m not sure he feels the same way.”
“Have you asked him?”
I shook my head. “No. I feel weird about it. He’s so adamant about his rules and his independence. He made it pretty clear up front he is not a relationship kind of guy. I’m afraid it would freak him out.”
Cheyenne was silent for a moment. We reached the park adjacent to the harbor and took a seat on a bench in the shade. “What about you?” she asked as we unwrapped our sandwiches. “Are you looking for a committed relationship?”
“Down the road, sure. But I wanted to get on my feet first, you know? Establish myself. But . . . meeting Griffin has changed things.”
“How so?”
“I’ve just never met anyone like him. He’s a real man, with real problems, but he faces them. He works so damn hard every single day. He worries constantly about losing the business his father and grandfather built, and he’s willing to bust his ass to keep it. What he won’t do is lie or cheat or skimp. You have to admire that.”
“He’s always been honest,” agreed Cheyenne. “And he does believe in hard work. Our dad was the same. Not a lazy bone in his body.”
“And he’s been through a war, you know? That’s incredible to me. He served his country during a war.”
“He sure did.” Cheyenne’s voice was proud. “And I bet he didn’t tell you about his Silver Star Medal.”
“No. I don’t even know what that is,” I confessed.
“It’s a medal he earned for heroism. He never talks about it, but it was a big deal in our family. It was the only time I ever saw my dad cry.”
My own throat tightened. “He never told me about it. But that’s the kind of thing I mean. Most guys I knew in my past life couldn’t stop talking about themselves. Their money. Their cars. Their mutual funds. Their connections. And it’s all bullshit. None of it matters.”
“Yeah, Griff’s a cocky bastard, but not in that way.” She laughed. “And he definitely doesn’t have any mutual funds.”
“He doesn’t need them. He has so much more to offer.” I sighed. “Plus he’s hot. Sorry—I know he’s your brother—but he’s really, really fucking hot.”
“Ewwww.”
“I know, I know. I’ll spare you the details. But he’s got that body, and those eyes, and those big hands, and he’s so generous. He knows exactly how to—”
“I thought you were sparing me the details,” Cheyenne said, holding up a hand.
I laughed. “Sorry. I get carried away thinking about him.”
“I can tell.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes. Then she said something that surprised me.
“Griffin has a really big heart. He doesn’t show it to everyone, and God knows he can be a stubborn, temperamental asshole, but underneath that tough exterior, I agree with you. He’s one of the good guys. He just doesn’t let people in very easily.” She thought for a moment. “I don’t know if it was what happened with Kayla or my dad dying or what, but he sort of shut down after all that.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “I’ve watched him grow more and more closed off over the last few years, almost like he’s scared to feel things.”
I took a bite of my wrap without tasting it.
“But he’s definitely different with you.”
I swallowed so quickly I almost choked. “What?”
“He’s different with you. In the last week, I’ve seen him laugh more than he has all year. And smile more. And I can see the way he treats you—all hovering and protective. I mean, inviting you to stay at his apartment like that? It’s insane!”
“He just asked me to stay a few more days,” I confessed. “He said even if the parts for my car arrive today as expected, he won’t have time to work on it.”
“See? He would never do that for anyone else. He’d bust his ass to get that car fixed and have his place to himself again. You’re special to him.” She laughed. “No wonder my mother is so upset you’re leaving.”
“I’m not going that far,” I said, my heart thumping joyfully at everything she was saying. But was it true?
We finished our lunches, watching kids on the playground equipment and moms pushing strollers and boats moving in and out of the harbor. Several people stopped to say hello to Cheyenne and ask after Darlene, or introduce themselves to me and say they’d heard great things about my baking, and a couple kids shyly approached “Miss Dempsey” and said they hoped she’d be their teacher next year.
“This really is a sweet little town,” I said, sticking my napkin and sandwich wrapper in the bag.
Cheyenne nodded. “It is. I mean, you do get sick of the same people all the time when you’re young, and I definitely couldn’t wait to go off to college and travel and make new friends. I wasn’t even sure I’d come back.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “But by the time I was ready to find a job and pick a place to live, I missed it. And I couldn’t imagine finding anywhere else that would really feel like home. I just feel . . . right in my skin here, you know? It’s peaceful. It’s friendly. It’s safe.”
I nudged her foot with mine. “And the law enforcement is especially good-looking.”
She sighed. “It really is.”
“I still think you should ask him out,” I said as we started walking back up Main Street.
“No way. I’m too scared.”
“Even if it’s just as friends,” I said. “Come on, you two have known each other for so long. And I bet he’s lonely sometimes. Couldn’t you just go have dinner or something?”
“Sure we could.”
“So ask him. I bet he’d say yes.”
“He probably would. It’s not the asking I’m afraid of.”
I looked over at her. “Then what is it?”
“Falling in love with someone I can’t have,” she said, “someone that can never belong to me. If we start spending time together, even if it’s just as friends, I know I’ll be head over heels in no time at all. I know I’ll give in if he just wanted sex with no strings attached. I know I’ll wind up crying in my pillow just like I did when I was fourteen. Remember that scene in Grease when Olivia Newton-John sings Hopelessly Devoted to You while imagining John Travolta’s face in that stupid pond?”
“Yeah,” I said, trying not to laugh.
“Well, that was pretty much me all through high school. I don’t want to go back there.” She shook her head as we crossed a side street. “It’s bad enough I’m twenty-nine years old, living next door to him again, sleeping in my old bed and having all the same stupid dreams I had about him back then. It’s like I’m stuck in this loop and can’t get out.”
“I’m sorry.” I put my arm around her shoulders. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”