Chapter 21

“Good morning. How’s my favorite baby?”

Nate carries Morgan down the hall in one hand and his messenger bag in his other hand, passing her to me with a huge grin on his face.

“She’s your favorite baby?”

I kiss her chubby cheek. Her mouth opens into a big smile. “Yes. I have no children of my own yet, no nieces or nephews, no friends who have named me Godmother to their children. So … how did the rest of the night go?”

He grabs his usual to-go cup of coffee. “Perfect. She didn’t wake up once. I think it must be the formula. There’s enough to last the day. I’ll pick up more on my way home.”

“Have you found someone to watch her when I’m gone?”

Nate eyes me over the black lid to his cup, taking a cautious sip. “My parents will watch her until Monday. My mom can be physically limited, but hopefully her knowledge mixed with my dad’s physical abilities will be the equivalent of one capable adult.”

Why do I feel so guilty?

“And next week?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”

“You have class.”

He nods. “I do.”

“You can’t take her.”

“This is true.” He sticks an apple in his messenger bag and latches it.

“I’m sorry. I really wish there was something I could do.”

“Not your child. Not your problem.” The tight smile on his face doesn’t help my guilt.

“Still …” My lips twist into a painful frown.

“Not. Your. Problem.” Nate kisses Morgan on the head.

“It feels like my problem.” I follow him to the back door.

He shakes his head and chuckles. “She’s not your—”

“I know, I know … stop saying she’s not my child. I get it. But I care about her, and I don’t want some stranger watching her or you losing your job because you’re trying to teach a class with a baby attached to your chest.”

“What do you want me to say?” He turns.

I cradle Morgan to me. This little girl needs me. I feel it in a way that’s hard to explain. “I don’t know,” I whisper, the guilt bearing down until my chest aches.

“Do you want me to ask you to stay home to watch her?”

My gaze falls to Morgan. I can’t look at him, not when he’s looking at me with those eyes that feel as familiar as my own. “Do you want to ask me to stay home to watch her?”

“Yes.”

My heart pauses for a breath—a silent gasp. I asked the question, but I didn’t expect a one-word answer delivered with such raw honesty.

And when our eyes meet, there’s not a flash of regret.

“But I won’t.”

Dear heart, you can start beating again.

“And I won’t tell you that it’s unnerving to think of you on the back of a motorcycle for hundreds of miles or surrounded by a bunch of beer-chugging men who get off on objectifying women.”

“Nate …” I need to respond, but he’s robbed every thought that makes any sense.

“I guess…” his eyes avert away from mine as his teeth trap the corner of his lower lip “…it’s just what I think your father—any good father—would say to his daughter.”

Would my father approve of me going to a motorcycle rally with Griffin? Absolutely not. But he’s not here. I’m an adult. And Griffin loves me. I trust him with my heart and my life. He makes me feel safe, even when I don’t know why I have this desperate need to feel safe. Yet, I do.

“Griffin would never let anything happen to me.”

Nate studies me. “A man on a bike amid SUVs and semitrucks doesn’t have a lot of control. He’s at fate’s mercy.”

“Aren’t we all at fate’s mercy?”

Nate flinches. It’s slight, but I see it. And the regret grips my heart.

“That was terrible. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.” He opens the back door.

Nate is a single father because fate lacked any sort of mercy the day Morgan came into this world and Jenna left it. Why did I have to remind him of that?

“Have a good day.”

My lips pull into a tiny, painful grin. “You too.”

The door closes. My familiar stranger breaks my heart every day. When I’m home, all I want is to fall into the world of Griffin Calloway—love’s muse. But when I’m here, with Morgan gazing up at me, so innocent and helpless, I feel like something incomprehensible has led me to her.

I can’t risk losing Griffin, searching for something that may never be found, but I also can’t let this go. Part of me belongs to this unknown.

“Let’s get some floor time … in your daddy’s room.”

Morgan’s arms flail. She’s excited about it too. My bare feet pad down the shiny wood floor toward the open door at the end of the hall. Nate used to keep his door closed; now he leaves it open. It feels like an invitation. He wanted me to see those photos last night. He gave me permission to snoop. Maybe this is his way of helping me figure this out.

The camera no longer phases me. I lay Morgan on her mobile play mat and retrieve the box of photos from Nate’s closet.

“My god …” I pull out picture after picture and arrange them on the floor beside Morgan’s mat. They’re so vivid in my mind—holidays, hockey games, the tree house, the lake. My hands move them in order; I’m not sure how they know—how I know—but I do. When I’m done, there are six pictures that I don’t recognize, but they are of Nate. He’s older than my memory recalls, maybe in his twenties.

“Nate …” I stop on a black and white portrait of him with his shirt off, maybe on a beach. He’s looking off into the distance like he’s lost or even a little broken. There’s a darker tint to his wavy hair, maybe from the water, and a trimmed beard shadows his jaw. A smattering of hair covers his defined chest. He’s … beautiful.

“Were you thinking of Daisy?” I whisper. This photo … I can’t stop staring at it. I’ve never seen such a deep expression on the face of another human. “I’m not her.”

But I wish I were. I can only imagine how incredible it must have been to be loved by Nate. Will I ever make a mark on Griffin like the one Daisy made on Nate? If I died today, would Griffin mourn me for the rest of his life? Would he find another to love and name his daughter after me?

I chuckle. “I hope not.” One Swayze is enough.

Morgan starts to fuss.

“Are you hungry? Or just tired of floor time?” I set the beach photo aside and gather the other pictures, returning them to the box, but my gaze returns to that photo. I want to be there on that beach with him. I want to run my hands through those windblown locks and look into those soulful eyes until I feel exactly what he was feeling in that moment. With my back to the camera in the corner, I slip the photo into my pocket. I will return it—eventually.

“This is so messed-up,” I mumble, returning the box to the closet shelf. “Okay, fussy pants, let’s get you fed.” She feels warm when I press my lips to her forehead. “What’s going on? Do you not feel well?”

Morgan drinks less than half of her bottle before she falls asleep, warm—too warm. I take her temperature. 102 degrees.

Swayze: Morgan has a 102 temp.

Professor: Eating?

Swayze: Not quite half her bottle.

Professor: Crying?

Swayze: Sleeping.

Professor: I’ll call John.

Five or so minutes later I get another text.

Professor: Let her sleep. See if she eats when she wakes. Retake her temp and let me know. I can come home if you need me.

Swayze: We’re good for now. I’m not worried. I just wanted you to know.

Professor: Thank you.

*

“Hey.” Nate drops his messenger bag on the counter.

I look up from my book, hot as hell from a small heater sleeping on my chest most of the day. “Hi.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Still 102. But she took the rest of her bottle and part of another one.”

He nods, resting his hand on the top of her head. I can’t look at him without seeing the Nate in the photo stashed away in my pocket.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I blink and avert my gaze from his eyes. It’s impossible not to look into his eyes and wonder what he was thinking when that picture was taken. “Yeah. Just … hot.”

“I’m sure.” He eases her from my chest, and she fusses a bit before falling back to sleep in his arms. “Thank you.”

I lift my stiff body out of the chair. “No apology necessary. Rocking sick babies is part of the job. I’ve done it many times before.”

He rests his cheek on top of her head. It’s precious and heartbreaking. She needs her mom and he needs his wife.

“Still …” Those soulful eyes find my gaze and a sad smile tugs at his mouth. “I feel bad that I wasn’t here.”

“You can’t be everywhere and everything to her always.”

“Well…” he rubs circles on her back “…I’m glad you were here. In fact, I have an offer for you.”

Sliding my bag over my shoulder, my head tilts to the side. “What’s that?”

“I’m in a bind. A big one with school starting next week and my parents leaving town. Would you consider staying home if I offered you a five thousand dollar bonus?”

“Excuse me?”

“If I had another option, I wouldn’t ask. I feel like a dick. This isn’t a finer moment for me, but I’m imploring you to stay. Take the money and use it for another trip when I’m not in such a desperate predicament.”

“Nate, I …”

“I know I said it’s not your problem. And if you say no, then I’ll have to … I don’t know … figure something out. This isn’t an attempt to make it your problem. I’m just offering you a lot of money—on top of your regular salary—to stay. Think of it as a business offer.”

Five grand. That’s a lot of money considering the inheritance from my father has dwindled since paying Dr. Greyson, paying off my car, and the new computer I purchased six months ago. Five grand in savings. Five grand to help do some more renovations around Griffin’s house. Maybe a new sofa. His is an old hand-me-down like mine.

Griffin. I don’t know how he would feel about this. He’s been looking forward to this trip all summer. But … five grand.

“I’d have to talk with Griffin. We’re supposed to leave tomorrow. Five thousand dollars isn’t worth my relationship. If I talk to him and he’s not on board, I just …”

Nate shakes his head. “I understand. I’m not asking you to ruin your relationship to bail me out of this mess. Call me after you talk to him.”

“I will.” I rock forward onto my toes and press a kiss to Morgan’s rosy cheek. “Feel better, baby.” My eyes shift upward, meeting his gaze. Fuck. This is the look. He’s giving me the same look that’s on his face in the photo. My spine prickles, turning to ice. “I looked at the photos,” I mutter, my mouth just inches from his, separated by Morgan’s tiny head.

He blinks several times. The depth to his eyes go on forever. It engulfs me. I can barely breathe.

“I know.” He wets his lips while his gaze drops a mere inch, settling on my mouth.

I step back with such a jerk, my feet stumble to keep me upright. Nate can’t look at my mouth. It’s not his to look at like that.

“You okay?” A smile curls his lips.

I misread that. He wasn’t looking at my mouth. He wasn’t thinking of kissing me. Gah! I’m an idiot. “Yeah. I’m good. I’ll uh … call you.” My hand comes up in a nervous wave. Who waves to someone standing two feet in front of them?

“Okay.” His eyes narrow but his grin remains.

*

Griffin looks up from his motorcycle, giving it a final wipe down. The chrome shines like it’s brand new. But nothing shines quite like his smile.

“You should be home packing.” He flips the rag over his shoulder and gives me his sexy once-over.

“About that …”

“Yes?” He prowls toward me, backing me into his workbench.

The look in his eyes says take off your clothes. I’ve seen it many times. I usually like that look. But the garage door is open, and he’s right, I should be home packing. Maybe I’m off today. I misread Nate’s look, perhaps I’m misreading Griffin’s.

Taking off my clothes might be the right idea. Soften him up with sex. He used it to make me agreeable this morning; maybe I can work my own manipulative magic.

“Shut the garage door.” I give him my sexiest expression while my right hand teases his denim just below the button to his jeans.

He peaks a single brow then glances down at my hand. “You hungry, Swayz?”

I bite my bottom lip and nod.

“You want me to shut the garage door?” His eyes pull into a slight squint.

I nod, rubbing him more.

“Are you going to get on your knees for me?”

I nod, tugging on the button to his jeans.

“Right here?”

“Uh-huh.”

Griffin steps back, fastening the button I just undid. “Spill.”

“Spill?”

“You have never seduced me in my garage … in the daylight. We’re leaving for a week where I’ll spend every night buried inside of you. Clean clothes wait for you to pack them. Your mom’s expecting you to stop by her house to say goodbye before you go to bed tonight. I’m not questioning you craving my cock.” He smirks. “I’m just calling you out. This isn’t how you go about it.”

“Maybe it is.” I make a last ditch effort to make my lion purr before dropping the news. Stepping toward him, I reach for his jeans again.

With a headshake, he steps back, denying me. “You like to tease, but you’re not the girl who does this without me telling you to do it. Control is not your thing. So just cut the fake seduction crap and tell me.”

I blow out a long breath and step back to lean against the workbench. “Fine. But let me finish before you lose your shit.”

His posture stiffens.

Great.

“Nate didn’t realize we had this trip. I told Rachael, but she must have forgotten to tell him, assuming she would still be here to cover in my absence. His parents leave for vacation Monday and his mom’s not in the best health anyway. And classes start Monday for Nate. He’s the professor, he can’t miss the first week of school. He has no one else.”

“Swayze—”

“Let me finish.” I’m breathless. Anticipating his reaction has my heart in an arrhythmia. “I told him earlier this week, I couldn’t stay. He knows it’s not my problem to solve. I’m not going to lose my job if I go with you. But …” Dang! I’m sweating.

Griffin plants his hands on his hips and leans toward me with a scowl that could freeze the sun. “But what?”

“He’s desperate. Today he offered me a five grand bonus if I stay home to watch Morgan.” I hold up a flat hand. “I didn’t say yes.”

“So you said no?”

“I said I needed to talk to you first.”

“Well, then let’s talk.”

I wring my hands together, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “If you want me to go—”

He barks out a laugh. “I invited you. That means I want you to go. But here we are talking about you not going, so the real question is do you want to go?”

“You know I do.”

“Then what’s there to talk about?”

“Did you hear me say he offered me five thousand dollars to stay?”

Griffin rubs his hand over his face, keeping the other one planted on his hip. “So I need to come in with a better offer for you to go?”

“No! Jeez …” My fingers thread through my hair, tugging at it while I take a deep breath. “It’s a lot of money. We could buy some new furniture for your—our place. We could take another trip. Go to Hawaii or something.”

“I can’t believe this has come down to money.” He looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head.

“It’s not just the money. Nate has no one else. And Morgan’s running a temperature. And—”

“Just stay.” Griffin turns and continues polishing his bike.

“If you want me to go—”

“For the love of God, woman!” He wads up the rag and tosses it aside. “What do you want from me?”

I flinch. “If I stay, will you be mad?”

He huffs out a sigh. “I’ll be bummed.”

“Is that mad?”

“Don’t do this shit to me, Swayz.”

“I don’t want to lose you over this.”

“It’s not an ultimatum. In fact, you’re uninvited. There. Happy? Now you don’t have to make the choice.”

“I’m uninvited?”

“Yes.” He stalks toward the house.

“So if I decide to go, you’re no longer going to take me?”

“That’s correct.”

“You can’t be serious.” I catch the screen door before it shuts behind him.

“Dead serious.” Griffin grabs a bottle of green juice out of the fridge and tosses the cap in the garbage can.

Watching Morgan gives me a sense of maturity. When I’m with her I feel ten years older. I become who I need to be for her, like I sucked it up and channeled the mature Swayze to give Nate support last night at the pediatrician’s office. But right now, I don’t feel a day over my actual age. The urge to stomp my feet and argue just for the sake of arguing is almost too strong to deny.

“Speak. Don’t just stand there digging your nails into your palms.” Griffin taunts me with his aloof but arrogant attitude.

I relax my hands. “I know it’s unfair and immature, but I want you to want me to stay. I wish you knew Nate and Morgan like I do. If you did, I think you would see how much they need me right now. You’re a compassionate guy.”

“Well, I don’t know them. But I do want you to stay. Lord knows you’d be a fucked-up case of doom and gloom the whole trip worrying about them.”

“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

He chugs the rest of the juice and tosses the bottle in the recycling bin. “Well…” he chuckles “…that’s just too damn bad. I’m human. You can’t expect me to act like I’m not just because you think I’m a ‘compassionate guy.’ I’m not going to give you my blessing to stay home.”

I nod. There’s nothing more to say. He’s right. I’m asking too much. “I should get home.”

Griffin stares at me with no response.

“Unless you want me to stay tonight … but if you’re mad, then maybe you don’t want me to stay.”

“Shit…” he shakes his head “…you sound so fucking insecure right now.”

The hair on the back of my neck bristles. “Don’t be such a jerk. If I sound insecure it’s because I love you. And loving someone the way I love you is kind of scary, and scared people can sound insecure because nothing makes you feel more vulnerable than putting your heart on the line.”

He studies me, every piece of my heart stripped raw, bared to him in a bed of insecurities. I’ve never pretended to be something I’m not with Griffin. It’s all of me or nothing at all. We both know it without needing to say the words.

Griffin steps closer. His hand slides behind my head. “I love you for staying. I hate you for not going. But your heart isn’t on the line. Your heart’s just … mine. And I take care of what’s mine.”

Chocolate. Wine. Tampons. Chips.

I could have been anywhere the day I met my grocery store guy. Ten minutes later. Five minutes earlier. A different line. A million other tweaks of fate could have changed the course of my life.

Fate.

God.

A higher power.

Or maybe just damn good luck.

After calling Nate to let him know I’m not going, I stay the night with Griffin. If I’m going to move in with him, I can’t run away every time we have an argument.

“I’m leaving, baby.” He kisses me on the head.

My eyes fight the need for more sleep. It’s four in the morning.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll call you when we stop for breakfast in a few hours.”

“No.” I grab his hand. “I want to see you off.”

“Everyone’s waiting outside for me.”

“I’m up.” My head feels like a bowling ball atop my shoulders as I stand.

Griffin grabs one of his sweatshirts and shoves it over my head, leaving the hoodie covering my matted hair. My arms swim in the long sleeves, but it covers my panties enough to keep his friends from seeing more than they should.

“I’m sure your neighbors love the four a.m. rumble of six Harley engines revving up.”

Griffin chuckles. “I’m sure.” He takes my hand as we step outside.

“Swayze …” One of the guys whistles.

I give him the middle finger and a small smile.

“Feisty.” He winks and blows me a kiss.

“Shut it, Frank.” Griffin glares at his long-haired friend with a creepy smirk.

“Brave girl.” Meg, his boss’s new girlfriend, shakes her head from the back of Jett’s bike. “No way in hell I’d let Jett go without me. Too many skanks ready to jump anything that moves. And your boy Griffin will draw a lot of attention. Lots of willing bodies ready to keep him warm at night. Lots of booze. Lots of—”

“Meg, no disrespect, but shut the fuck up.” Griffin slides on his gloves and pulls me into his chest. “Stop, Swayz.”

I think I might vomit. This is a bad idea. I should go too. “I lied.” I stare at his chest because I can’t keep my composure looking into his eyes. “If you cheat on me, I won’t cut your dick off. I’ll hate you forever. I don’t want to hate you forever.”

He tips my chin up.

Don’t cry.

“I’m not cheating on you.”

“But you’re mad that I’m not going. And there will be lots of alcohol. And women with big boobs, and they’re going to want you. Look at you … of course they’re going to do everything they can do to get into your—”

He silences me with a deep kiss, framing my face with his hands, pulling me to him so that I have to stand on my tippy toes, bracing myself with his arms. God … if he kisses another woman like he’s kissing me, I’ll die. My heart will self-combust into nothing but ash.

His buddies whistle and hoot like the idiots they are.

“I can’t breathe,” I whisper past the lump in my throat. It’s not just the women. It’s the long trip on a motorcycle. Nate was right. Griffin is at the mercy of every other vehicle on the road. Stupid people texting, driving under the influence, sleep-deprived truckers, and rain-slick roads.

“I’ll call you every night as long as I have a signal.”

I nod slowly, blinking away my fears.

“And if I don’t call, it means I don’t have a good connection. That’s all it means. Nothing more. Okay?”

“I love you.” My voice dies on the last syllable.

“Love you too.” He gives me one last kiss and mounts his bike.

Without me.

I think of Morgan and Nate, but it doesn’t help. There’s too much fear strangling my heart. Maybe later my altruism will ease my worry, but right now, I hurt all over.

Engines rumble. Lights beam. My world rolls onto the street, shifts gears, and takes off with a final wave.