Griffin nodded, feeling his old self-confidence come rushing back. He’d been second-guessing himself when it came to Nicole for so long, it was a relief to finally see his path laid out in front of him. Hell, yes, they deserved the best. And he’d damn well make sure they got it.
“So?” Garrett asked. “You going to be at the palace for dinner tonight?”
Griffin grinned. “Hell, no, I’m going home. To Nicole.”
*
Nicole missed Griffin so much, it was a physical ache.
It had been days and nothing had changed. If anything, the pain kept growing, swelling inside her until she could hardly breathe. But it wasn’t only her pain she had to deal with.
Connor had been moping around in toddler misery. Every day he asked for Griffin and every day, she explained that Griffin had had to go away. Her son’s pain layered over hers until Nicole felt as though she was drowning.
Middle-of-the-night television was less than thrilling, but it beat lying in bed, trying futilely for sleep. She sat on the couch in her tank top and boxer-short PJs, flipping mindlessly through the channels until she came to an infomercial about psychics. For only five dollars a minute, you could have a stranger tell you how to fix your life.
But she didn’t need a psychic for that. What she needed was what she’d already lost.
Outside, the world was quiet, peaceful. Inside, the television sound was set to whisper. So when the doorbell rang, she jumped a foot off the couch and then hurried to the front door. She grabbed the phone on the way, just in case she needed to call 911. But then, what kind of mad-dog burglar would ring the bell?
She looked out the window at the front porch and her heart jolted hard into life when she saw Griffin standing there in the soft glow of the porch light.
Why was he here? What should she do? Ignore him? Open the door just so she could slam it?
He rang the bell again, and her decision was made. If Griffin kept that up, Connor would wake, and then she’d spend a half hour getting her son back to sleep.
Flipping the locks, she opened the door and looked up into blue eyes that locked on her like twin lasers. “Griffin, what do you want?”
“You.”
“What?” Impossible. She was dreaming again. It was the only explanation. In the snatches of sleep she’d managed to grab over the last few days, her mind had tortured her with dreams just like this one, dreams in which Griffin came back, begged her forgiveness—like a King would ever do that—and pledged his undying love. The dreams always ended the same way, too—with Nicole waking up, emptier than when she’d fallen asleep.
He slapped one hand to the door as if to prevent her from closing it. “Can I come in?”
So, then, no dream.
“I don’t think so,” she said, though it cost her. What she wanted was to throw herself into his arms and feel him hold her close again. She wanted to feel. To come out of this half-waking life she’d been living.
But at the heart of all of this, in spite of her wants and needs and wishes and dreams, lay one truth. Griffin hadn’t just walked away from her. He’d walked out on Connor. He’d broken her son’s heart, and she didn’t think she could forgive him for that.
“Okay,” he said quickly, “I can understand that. You’re pissed. You’ve got a right to be.”
“It’s way beyond pissed, Griffin,” she told him and felt her spine snap into place. “You disappeared. Connor’s been asking for you every day, and all I can tell him is that you had to go away.”
His jaw clenched, and he let his head fall back for a moment. “I know. And I’m sorry.”
“I heard you, you know,” she said, deliberately keeping her gaze locked on his. “That day on the beach when you told your brother you felt sorry for Connor. Well, he doesn’t need your pity. And neither do I.”
His head dropped to his chest before he looked at her again. “That was bull. I never felt sorry for Connor. Why the hell would I? He has everything. He has you.”
One small hurt washed away with his words. But it wasn’t enough yet.
“I’m sorry, Nicole. For so damn much.”
“I’m not the one you need to say that to. Well,” she corrected, “not the only one.”
“I know that, too,” he told her, meeting her gaze again. “The reason I came here now, in the middle of the night, was to make sure Connor was asleep. So if you tell me to go away, I will, and he’ll never have to know I was here.”
She flinched.
“But don’t tell me to go away,” he added quickly.
“Why shouldn’t I?” she asked warily.
He bent down to retrieve a large white bag that sat at his feet. She hadn’t noticed it before. No surprise, since she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him.
Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a small, green velvet box.
Nicole’s heart actually stopped. She slapped one hand to her chest as if to get it beating again. If this was a dream, she really didn’t want to wake up this time.
Opening the box, he showed her the ring inside. “A star sapphire,” he said. “Because it reminds me of your eyes. A deep, rich blue, but with stars and secrets hidden in their depths.”
“Griffin…” Shaking her head, she looked from the beautiful ring to his face, to his eyes, and what she saw there stole her breath.
This was way better than her dreams, Nicole thought. The promise, the love, the future she saw in his expression was more than her mind could ever have conjured.
“There’s more,” he said before she could say anything else. He dipped into the bag again and pulled out a fireman’s hat. “It’s for Connor,” he said unnecessarily. “He really loved sitting on that fire truck, so I thought…”
She reached out and took the hat from him, running her hands over the slick, plastic brim. It was bright red, with a shiny gold plastic badge, and Connor would love it. Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at the man watching her so stoically.
“Please let me in, Nicole,” he whispered.
How could she not? Even if she only wanted to cling to her anger and hurt, she would have been moved by this late-night visit. But she wanted so much more than to stay mired in pain.
Nodding, she stepped back, and once he was in the house, he closed the door, sealing them into the room together. He took the fire hat from her and set it down onto the nearest table.
The room was dark, lit only by the television and from the streetlights outside. Still clutching the ring box in one hand, Griffin reached out and used his free hand to stroke her cheek. The feel of his skin against hers again was magic, Nicole thought, and she fervently hoped that there was a forever here they could both grab hold of.