You’re Still The One by Erika Kelly

Chapter Eight

As they neared his cottage,Griffin knew they couldn’t leave the conversation unfinished. “You’re right. I shouldn’t make assumptions about your feelings. I’m sorry I said that.”

“It’s not like I blame you. If I saw pictures of you on your honeymoon…” For one moment, she had a look of absolute desolation. “But you know something?” She sounded resigned. “I think we were doomed no matter how much we loved each other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the oldest in your family, and I’m the youngest in mine. And like you said, we’re two sides of the same coin. You look out for the people you love by trying to control everything. And my way is to go balls to the wall. You’re keeping them safe and warm, while I’m throwing them a blow-out party.”

“Stella, you are the party. You’re the focal point in any group. You’re the brightest light and the warmest heart, and I will always love you…”

“You just can’t trust me.” Her eyes glistened, and her bottom lip trembled.

He barely shook his head because this conversation made it all too real. Whatever hope might still simmer inside him had just died. “No, I can’t.”

“Okay…” She blinked back the tears and tilted her chin. “Good talk.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s good. Really. We got it all out there, and now we know where we both stand.”

“Now we know.” But he was sure it rang as hollow to her as it did to him.

As he rounded the bend, he saw the familiar black SUV parked in his spot. “Shit.”

“Why are they back?” Stella leaned forward. “Don’t tell me they’ve already heard about the training center? They can’t be that well-connected. So help me, God, if they try to keep him out of this class…”

Affection surged right through the dread of seeing the Pilsons. Because Stella would never be intimidated by the Hanging Judge of Calamity or the former mayor. She’d go to the mat for a boy she’d just met.

“We’re about to find out.” He parked and cut the engine.

“Okay.” She reached for her fancy leather purse on the back seat. “How do you want to play this?”

With her leaning halfway across the console, he could see into those warm hazel eyes and down the gaping neckline of her blouse to the plump mounds of cleavage. Sensation roared inside him.

This fucking chemistry between them…he just didn’t know what the hell to do about it. “We’re not playing anything. We’ll hear what they have to say and go from there.”

“I meant this is your last chance to get out of being engaged to me. We haven’t actually lied to anyone but them yet, so…”

“It seems to be working. Let’s just play it by ear.” He reached for the handle, but she grabbed his arm and pulled.

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“You want to pull this off, kiss me.”

“I’m not going in there with a fucking hard-on, Stella.”

“I know.” She grinned, all sultry and hot. “It took the whole ride home to get the last one to go down.”

He laughed. “Stop looking at my dick, and maybe it won’t last so long.”

She grinned, looking at his lap. “It’s literally like a third person in this truck. Now, come on, let’s get into character.”

Alarms went off in his head, but the draw of this woman was too strong, and he leaned in, slowly, taking in the sassy arch of her brows and the adorable dimples in her cheek, and then…he moved in close enough for their lips to brush.

What should’ve been nothing more than a staged kiss of affection set his pulse pounding. The world disappeared, as he fell into the slow dance of their tongues, the clasp of her hand at the back of his neck, and the sexy little moan that preceded the surrender of her body against his chest.

He kissed an apology into her mouth, sorry for being gruff and cold to her, sorry for making her feel she was anything but beautiful, sexy, smart, and the most caring, loving person he’d ever known.

He kissed the woman who owned his heart. Kissed her with a mind full of memories and a heart full of want.

Setting a hand on his chest, she pushed him away. “It’s special for us, right? It’s not just my imagination?”

“Nope.” He caught her wrist, moving in for another kiss. “There’s nothing better.”

But she yanked her hand away. “Stop trusting a photograph over me, and you might just get another one.” Throwing him a saucy look, she threw open the door and left him sitting alone in the truck.

As he sat there, the engine ticking, his blood pumping, he wondered if, when Peyton got back, and he was no longer responsible for Austin, he and Stella might have a chance for happiness together.

What would a little drama matter then? And if things went sideways again, well, he’d gotten over her once, he could get over her again.

Hadhe gotten over her, though?

I’m still single, I still ache for her…

Yeah, that’d be a hard no.

Right now, though, he had to deal with the judge. As soon as he got out, he joined the Pilsons and Stella on the walkway of his cottage.

“Hello.” Mrs. Pilson looked between them with concern. “Where’s Austin?” She gestured to the truck.

“We’re making enchiladas tonight, and we didn’t have avocado, so we ran out to the store,” Stella said.

“Really? Austin helped you cook?” Mrs. Pilson sounded surprised but pleased.

“He sure did,” Stella said.

“How nice,” the older woman said. “Okay, well, we just wanted to talk to him about Thanksgiving. I assume you’ll spend it with your families, and of course, Austin will be with us.”

“We haven’t discussed our holiday plans yet,” Stella said. “But we’ll talk about it tonight after dinner and get back to you, okay?”

“We’d prefer to discuss it with him ourselves.” Judge Pilson started up the walkway. “We’ve got plans that need to be finalized now.”

His wife tugged on his coat. “They’re about to sit down to dinner. We can come back.” She smiled at them. “The holidays are for families, and with his father away, I’m sure you understand why it’s important he needs us more than ever.”

“Like Stella said, we haven’t worked it out yet. We’ve got a lot to celebrate this year.” Griffin nodded, a sign the conversation was done.

“All the more reason for him to be with us,” Mrs. Pilson said. “You two can toast to your good news, and Austin will get to be with the extended family he so rarely gets to see. You understand.”

“I do. And we’ll discuss it.” He started for the cabin.

The judge fell into place behind him. “We’d like to check on him before we go.”

“Check on him?” What the fuck’s he insinuating now?

“That’s right. You’ve left him alone in a hotel.”

Griffin stopped. “My parents own this place. He’s perfectly safe here.”

“Regardless of who owns it, it’s a hotel with strangers coming and going.” The judge tipped his chin to the cottage. “This is no place for a fourteen-year-old to live.”

“Oh, this is temporary,” Stella said. “The house we were buying fell through, and so now we’re homeless. But we’ve got some other places we’re interested in.”

She did not just say that.I’m not buying a damn house. As soon as Peyton came home, Griffin would move back into his apartment over the shop. He worked so many hours, it only made sense.

But there was no denying how happy the idea made them. “That’s wonderful.” Relief relaxed Mrs. Pilson’s features, making him wonder if he’d gotten her motivations all wrong. Maybe she really did want what’s best for Austin. “What part of town are you looking at?”

Fuck my life. He couldn’t stand the lies. They always backfired, and the truth always came out.

“We’ve narrowed it down to a few favorites, but we’re not sure.” Stella linked her arm through his. “We might just rent until we find our dream house.”

The hell we will.

And why was she giving specifics?

“None of them are on 191, are they?” Mrs. Pilson asked. “That’s a dangerous road.”

He’d never house-hunted a day in his life. He didn’t have a clue about neighborhoods.

But, of course, Stella stepped right in. “Would you like to see the listings?”

“Oh, I’d love that. Thank you so much, Stella.” Mrs. Pilson looked tickled.

While Griffin wanted to shout at her. What listings? What the hell are you talking about?

“Let me go grab them. In the meantime, you go on inside.” With a big grin, Stella shuddered. “It’s freezing. Honey, get the enchiladas out of the oven, okay? Make them a hot cup of tea or coffee. I’ll be right back.”

Did she just call me honey?

“Oh, no, don’t bother with us. We’ll only stay a minute while you’re getting the listings, but then we’ll let you sit down to dinner.” The woman couldn’t have been more delighted.

Grumpy as hell, Griffin led them to the cottage. Where was she going to get fake listings? If she drove into town and talked to a realtor, it could take an hour or more. He wasn’t entertaining these people that long.

Before he opened the door, he turned to them and said, “I don’t want to discuss Thanksgiving right now. As I said, we need to discuss it with Austin first.” He wouldn’t let them ambush the boy.

The judge gave him a barely perceivable nod.

Griffin entered the warm cottage. “Austin, your grandparents are here.” While the boy was nowhere to be found, the enchiladas were sitting on a trivet on the counter. Responsible kid. “He’s probably in his room doing homework.”

The judge started down the hallway.

“Hang on. I’ll get him.” Griffin strode ahead of him and knocked on Austin’s door. “Hey, your grandparents are here. Come out and say hello.”

A long, tense moment passed before the door opened, and a sulky teenager ambled out. His expression said, Do I have to?

Yep.

“Austin.” The judge greeted him with a warm, kind smile. “How are you?”

It was painful to watch the stern and commanding man try to have a relationship with the boy when he couldn’t get out of his own way. He couldn’t seem to set down his gavel or do anything other than direct, teach, control. He didn’t seem to know how to just love.

Wait a minute.

Holy shit.

Am I like that?

At that moment, Stella’s comment about him protecting the people he loved hit him in the solar plexus. It rang true. Was he so busy making sure nothing went wrong that he hadn’t made Austin feel loved? Wanted?

That would suck. And he had a horrible feeling it might be true.

Because it was Stella who’d taken him to the training center and arranged lessons with Will. It was Stella who’d gotten him to open up about his grandparents.

He’d have to do something about that.

Following Austin into the living area, he made a quick scan of the small but very nice space. He wasn’t worried about a mess, but he did look at it through their eyes and couldn’t see a damn thing wrong. “Can I make you some coffee?”

“We won’t stay long,” Judge Pilson said.

“We’ll just take a quick peek at the houses and then let you eat.” Mrs. Pilson followed her grandson into the kitchen. “I heard you helped make dinner tonight.”

Austin reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of milk.

“Austin.” The judge’s tone was scolding. “Answer your grandmother when she speaks to you.”

“I didn’t know you liked cooking. You can help me make Thanksgiving dinner.” Mrs. Pilson smiled warmly at him as if Griffin hadn’t specifically asked them not to bring it up.

Anyone could see the boy stiffen, and yet Mrs. Pilson kept on talking like nothing was wrong. “Do you remember our neighbors, the Gregorys? Their grandchildren are in town, and they’ve got a boy your age, so that will be fun for the two of you to play together. They’d like to ride the gondola to the top of the mountain and use the hot springs, so I want to make sure you bring your swimsuit.”

Austin’s clear discomfort got Griffin moving to his side. “As I told you, we’re not sure about our plans yet.”

The judge sent him a hard look.

Jesus, I’m a grown man, and he makes me feel like I’ve been caught driving a stolen car. But he held firm for Austin’s sake.“We’ll talk about it and let you know by this weekend.”

“Oh, you know holidays are special family time,” Mrs. Pilson said. “And with his father so far away, he needs to be with us.”

“Traditions are important,” the judge said. “They connect you to your history, build strong bonds, and reinforce that you belong. And Austin belongs with us.”

Maybe if the judge had smiled or if his tone held even a hint of warmth, Austin might’ve relaxed. If he’d said, Hey, it won’t be the same without you. Or We’re making your favorite spicy hot chocolate.

Instead, Austin looked like bugs were crawling up his legs.

“Okay, well, have a seat. Austin and I are going to finish up the salad.” He’d started it, but he’d done a half-ass job. He’d have Austin cut up a tomato or something. “Stella won’t be long.” Not that he knew what she was doing. Would she come back in and say she couldn’t find them and then go into great detail about some imaginary listings?

That was the thing about her. With her dazzling personality, she could convince you of anything.

You wanted to believe her. You wanted to be her friend.

And then she’d do something stupid and leave you reeling.

“How did you and Stella meet?” Mrs. Pilson came into the kitchen, taking in the open bag of shredded cheese, the can of olives, the dark liquid spilled onto the counter.

Griffin set Austin up with a knife and the tomato. “I’m the same age as her sister, and Lulu used to cook in my dad’s kitchen back in high school.” At least he could answer this stuff honestly.

“And you’ve been together all this time?” Mrs. Pilson seemed surprised.

“No, like she said, it’s been on and off.”

“I see. How lovely. I assume you’ll want kids of your own?”

Kids? He’d never given the idea much thought. But just the idea of having children with her sent a jolt of excitement rocketing through him.

Because it implied a future.

With Stella.

And there was no one else he wanted to spend his life with. “Absolutely.”

“Well, that’s nice. She’s quite a catch.”

“Stella’s the best.” He couldn’t stop the flood of affection.

“She comes from an exemplary family,” Mr. Pilson said. “They’re quite active in philanthropy.”

“Yes, they are.”

The door flew open, and Stella burst in with her dazzling smile and a hand full of papers. “Who-ee, it’s cold out there. I can’t believe we’re going to get more snow. It’s not even December yet.” She handed over the documents, before wrapping her arm around Griffin’s waist and leaning against him. “Those are what we call our ‘safeties.’ They’re in our budget. The last three are the rentals we’re looking at.”

Mrs. Pilson scanned the listings.

“Real estate’s expensive in Calamity,” Mr. Pilson said.

“It is, but we both have good, secure jobs.” She reached up to play with the hair at the back of his neck.

For one brilliant moment, it wasn’t a lie. Maybe it was because of that spectacular kiss in the truck a few minutes ago, or maybe she just fit back into his life so seamlessly, but it didn’t feel like they were pretending.

Her body belonged up against his, and her hands should live in his hair, making him feel loved, wanted, and on fire. Nothing could stop his arm from wrapping around her, the heat of her skin an irresistible draw.

As they rambled on about the house that didn’t exist, Griffin lowered his hand, slid it under her shirt, and skimmed her lower back. Sensory memories slammed him.

The slide of his palm on the back of her thigh, the dip of her waist and flare of her hip. He’d kissed a path from the curve of her neck all the way down to her toes, not missing a single patch of smooth skin. He knew the sensitive spots that made her writhe, and the erotic ones that made her neck arch.

And right then, it took every ounce of restraint not to slide his hand up her back and around to her chest, feel the bounce and weight of her breast, the hard nipple begging to be pinched.

Fuck, but he wanted to be alone with her.

“Ideally, I’d love to have an office in my home.”

So he could spank her ass red for coming up with more lies.

“I’ll keep working when we have kids, but I want to cut back my hours, and I’d love to actually do as much work from home as possible. That means a bigger house, but Griffin’s handy, so we can get a fixer-upper and do most of the updating ourselves.”

What a convincing liar she is.

Mrs. Pilson set the papers down. She glanced to her husband, and they shared a look of silent communication. “This is wonderful.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “You have no idea how much peace of mind this gives us. When Peyton left our grandson in the care of a twenty-eight-year-old bachelor who runs a motorcycle shop…” She gave him a look that said, I’m sure you understand. “We had our concerns.”

“The most significant impact on a child’s behavior is the community around him,” Mr. Pilson said. “Children might rebel against their parents, but with cousins, aunts, uncles, and church families around them, they’re less inclined to stray off course.”

Which course is that?he wanted to ask. The one you set for him?

“I think you know we only want the very best for our grandson.” Mrs. Pilson set her hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You know that, right? Everything we do comes from our love for you.” She turned to the happy, fake couple. “But with Stella and her family involved, we can rest easier.”

“Well, that’s very nice to hear.” Stella started toward the door.

Like sheep, they followed. They probably had no idea they’d just ceded control to her.

At the door, the judge turned to Austin. “We’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”

With Austin silent and stiff beside him, there wasn’t a chance Griffin could let the power play slide. “I’ll get back to you with our plans.”

Mrs. Pilson smiled at Stella. “I know the house on Blossom Lane. It’s on a cul-de-sac and not far from town. It’s a lovely neighborhood and the perfect home to raise a family. They’re renting it out for now, but a little bird told me they might consider selling in the not-too-distant future. Act quickly, or it’ll be gone.”

Stella beamed her warm smile. “We plan on it.”

“Take care, dear.” She patted Stella’s arm.

And with that, they left the cottage.

“I’m hungry.” Austin went back to the kitchen, leaving them alone.

For a long moment, they both just stared at the door.

“Well.” Stella raised her brows. “I don’t think I gave you enough credit for the way you’ve handled them. They’re…a lot to deal with.”

“Yeah, but I really wish you hadn’t lied about the house.”

“Oh, my God, seriously? They backed off. Like, all the way off.”

His annoyance only impressed on him how much he wanted to trust her. But that’s just the chemistry. It was hard to keep his hands off her. “You’re right.”

“I thought they just wanted him, period. Like, to make up for the daughter they lost. But I think they really do want what’s best for him.”

They want him away from me. But whatever. They had backed off. “Looks like it.”

“Honestly, if my grandson were living with my son’s friend instead of me? In the same town? I’d be hurt.”

He would be, too. “Yep.”

“You’re giving me these clipped answers. Are you seriously that mad at me about the house?”

He leaned in. “You’re building a house of cards with all these lies, and it’s going to come crashing down. You have to stop this.”

“You don’t have to actually buy one, but why not rent a place for a year? I mean, come on, you’re going to be twenty-nine in May, and you’re still living in an apartment over the shop like you did when you were nineteen. At least while Austin’s living with you, give him a real home in a real neighborhood. Maybe part of the reason he’s not making friends is because he’s living out of a suitcase. Maybe it’ll feel less like he’s waiting for his dad to come home if he feels settled somewhere.”

She made a good point. He started for the kitchen. “Maybe.”

“So…do you want to go house hunting?”

“No, Stella. I absolutely don’t want to go house hunting.”