His cousin snorted a laugh. “Busy couple weeks for you, wasn’t it?”
“You could say that.” Griffin shook his head, too. Hell, the last couple of weeks were sort of a blur. He’d been so far off his normal stride, he was stumbling now, trying to get back to it. At least that was what he told himself. It wasn’t, he assured himself, that he didn’t want to go back to the way things were.
Of course he did. What he was feeling now was residual lust, that’s all. He’d get over it. He always got over the current woman in his life when he was ready to move on. And he was ready, damn it.
First, though, he had to deal with his cousin and whatever family crap was going to rain down on him. “So,” he asked, “you come to fight?”
“That was my original thought,” Rafe said as he folded his arms over his chest. “But I’m over it.” He looked at Griffin. “The question is, are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Over it. Nicole, I mean.”
“I will be.” He sounded certain. Too bad he wasn’t feeling it.
“Yeah,” Rafe said with a chuckle. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Y’know,” Griffin pointed out, “the way you almost screwed up your chance with Katie doesn’t exactly make you the big relationship expert of the family.”
“Key word there being almost,” Rafe said and stood up. “I’m not going to give you advice. Hell, you wouldn’t listen even if I did.”
“True.”
“I am going to tell you if you walk away you’ll be kicking yourself for the rest of your life.”
Griffin’s head snapped up and he fixed a narrowed gaze on his cousin. “Stay out of this, Rafe. Seriously.”
He held up both hands. “Oh, I’m out. Trust me. You’re on your own here.”
“Good.” Annoyance flared to life inside him, and Griffin stood up, too.
“Now, I’m going home to have some of the dark chocolate and meringue cookies Katie was making when I left.” He grinned. “Which you, by the way, will never taste.”
“Bastard.”
“Damn straight.” Whistling, Rafe left the office, and as he went out, Janice scuttled in, carrying a manila file folder.
“Here are the details on the museum job.”
“Thanks,” Griffin muttered and snatched the file from her. She left a moment later, and Griffin was alone again.
He really hated being alone.
*
He left work early.
No point in being there if he couldn’t damn well think. Instead, he went to the beach. Yeah, he hated crowds, but lately he’d discovered he hated being alone more.
The sea wind rushed at him as he walked along the ocean’s edge, bare feet just brushing past the lacy slide of the water onto the sand. The sun was hot, the sand damp and chill, and the sounds and smells around him invaded in a rush.
He saw a couple of kids playing in the sand and remembered making castles for Connor to knock down. He caught the scent of hot dogs on a grill and remembered barbecues in the backyard. He determinedly walked past a young couple so wrapped up in the kiss enveloping them, they were oblivious to everyone else. And he remembered kissing Nicole.
Remembered the taste of her, the scent of her, the soft sigh of her breath on his neck when she leaned into him. He remembered how she felt in his arms and how empty those same arms felt now that she was out of his life.
Griffin pushed one hand through his hair and muttered, “This isn’t working. None of it is.”
She was burned into his brain, his heart.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” he demanded of no one.
Someone shrieked, and Griffin whipped around to watch a woman get tossed into the water by her boyfriend. Laughter pealed out and he gritted his teeth against the envy that washed over him.
He didn’t think about it, just acted. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed a number and waited. When she answered, the mere sound of her voice lit up his insides.
“Nicole?”
There was a long pause. “Griffin. Hi.”
Well, she could have sounded less enthusiastic. If he’d offered her a bouquet of poison ivy. Had he really expected her to greet him with nothing but welcome? Hell, he was lucky she hadn’t hung up yet. Calling her was a bad idea, he told himself, but he couldn’t regret it. Turning, he stared out at the sunlight glinting on the surface of the water.
They’d made a deal, right? That she would work for his company. So he had a right to call her to talk details. That’s all this was. Business.
“Yeah. I wanted to know if you were serious about working off the deductible on the kitchen.”
Another long pause. Hell, this was tough on a man’s pride.
“Of course I was. I told you I don’t need you to buy things for me.”
“Yeah,” he said, cutting her off as a kid raced by, splashing water into the breezy air. “I remember. So the deal is, we’ve got the museum security job coming up and since you’re already familiar with the proposal, I thought you could start with that. Work out the numbers on payroll for the guards, say, in four-and six-hour shifts.”
“Fine.”
He imagined her sitting in her new kitchen in a splash of sunlight, her eyes narrowed in thought. Maybe Connor was in the room, too, playing at her feet. Then he pushed those images aside and focused on the matter at hand.
“How’s Connor?” he blurted.
“Connor’s fine,” she said tightly, and he could hear the tension in her voice. “I’m fine.”
“Good to hear.” What the hell else could he say? He’s the one who had opened up this chasm between them. But in his defense, he thought wildly, splitting up had been their deal all along. So he pushed aside regrets. “Okay then. I’ll have Janice overnight you the plans and you can get to work.”
He was good at thinking on his feet, he silently commended himself. He’d only come up with this idea a few minutes ago and it was spilling from him like he’d been working it out for days. “I’ll need a complete write-up on the expenses by the end of the week.”
“You’ll have it,” she said firmly. “Is that it?”
No, he thought. There was more. There was admitting that he couldn’t sleep without her curled up beside him. That he woke up craving the taste of her more than his first cup of coffee. That breathing was disappointing because her peach scent didn’t flavor every breath.