“No, you need to rest. You also need to hire some help around here.” He doesn’t let go of me and his steps don’t falter as he climbs the small staircase leading to my apartment.
“I have a local woman, Melissa, coming in to work with me. What are you doing?” If I could move, I would, but there’s no way I can get my pregnant body out of his grip, and the longer I’m in it, the more comfortable it’s feeling.
“Putting you to bed.” He hits the landing and pauses. I look around to see what he’s seeing. My small studio is open plan. It’s just me, so it's not like I need much. My bed in the corner, a few cupboards, a small kitchenette, and then off to one side is the small bathroom with a shower. The one I’m already struggling to fit into. It’s not much, but it’s more than adequate.
“I don’t need to sleep yet.” But like my body is fighting against me, my mouth opens involuntarily, and a small yawn escapes.
“Yeah, sweetness, doesn’t look like it.”
Eyes wide, I look at him and blink. There’s that name again. I thought for sure I imagined it earlier. Maybe I’m already asleep. Maybe I’m dreaming. It’s my rampant hormones again, making me think I’m hearing these soft words from a sexy, gruff man who’s manhandling my pregnant body like he’s put on this earth for that exact purpose.
“I have to bake.” My words come out strong, yet as he lays my body onto my bed, I immediately sink into the soft, old mattress and know I’m not going to get out of it in a hurry.
“Sleep. Doctor’s orders. I’ll work downstairs, and I’ll lock up when I leave.” He pulls a blanket over me before he turns and walks straight back out. I watch his back disappear and then hear his boots hit each step on his way down. I’m lost for words. I’m not his responsibility, and we’re not friends. But today when I needed someone, he was there.
I lie there, looking at the ceiling, caressing my bump. I have a feeling Griffin is like a caramel. Hard on the outside, gooey on the inside. His eyes are brown, the same color as the candy too. I take a few deep breaths, trying to de-stress. Griffin and Hudson are right. I do need to rest.
“We’ll be fine, baby. Just fine…” I tell my cherub, rubbing my tummy, and as my eyes slowly close, I start to dream of a hard but gooey caramel.
My eyes ping open, and I’m immediately awake as the light from beneath the curtains shines in on my face.
“Urghh.” I start to sit up, the endeavor taking a little longer than usual. I’m already puffing before my feet hit the floor. I look at the clock, seeing it’s four a.m. and need to blink a few times. I slept for twelve hours? How is that even possible?
“Wow, you’re really taking all my energy these last few weeks, aren’t you, baby?” I rub my belly as I head to the shower to get ready for the day.
I’ve always been an early riser. For years, I worked the early shift at one of the local Williamstown bakeries, which was located right near the church. Waking at four, baking all morning, offering fresh delights for everyone on their way to work or home from church. I think it’s the quiet of it that I like so much. Before anyone else is awake, before the world starts, I get to work in my own little world, putting all my attention into the dough. But that was before I lost my job the minute the community discovered I was having a baby out of wedlock.
Once I’m fresh and clean, I throw on some clothes, put my hair back, and start my trek downstairs. I hit the kitchen, seeing the lights still on, and frown. As my eyes canvass the room, my head rears back. Right in the middle is now a long, professional stainless-steel bench, with custom-made cupboards underneath. My ingredients have been sorted and stacked, my baking trays are all itemized in size in what looks to be a customized rack, and all the drop sheets from the painting yesterday have been removed, and the floor mopped.
“Oh… my goodness…”
Griffin must have done it all. I reach out and grab my apron, putting it on as I walk tentatively through the space in awe. I run my fingers across the stainless steel. My kitchen now looks like a fully functional professional bakery. The only spot left is the small section to the side, where I plan to put the baby while I work.
He must’ve worked all night, and this is above and beyond anything I was expecting. My stomach flutters, but I blame it on my baby.
Inspired from my thoughts of him last night, I’ve decided to make some sweet caramels for the party. It was nice of Hudson to invite me. I know Tanner was welcoming, and Griffin is amazing, so I’m starting to think this small town is just inclusive like that. And I need to repay everyone for their kindness. Starting with the birthday party today.
I step out toward the front door, to ensure Griffin locked up after he left last night, but I take a few steps and stall. Because there on the floor, with a rolled-up sweater under his head, is Griffin.
He slept on the floor. He stayed with me for the entire night.
There goes that flutter again.
8
Griffin
My neck and back are killing me, and as I roll over, I remember why. I slept on a hardwood floor for a few hours, right here in the bakery.
“Arghhhh.” Moaning, I start to wake, sitting and stretching a little, smelling the sweet aromas of freshly baked goods wafting from the kitchen. It’s the kind of smell love makes. From someone who spends time perfecting. That same sweet scent I breathe in whenever Savannah is nearby. It clings to her hair and her skin, like she’s brushed herself with sugar before stepping into the world, subtly giving off a sweetness I really shouldn’t be touching.
Rubbing my eyes, I swallow, trying to moisten my dry throat. I’m still tired after a big few days both here and in Sundown Valley. Standing gingerly, feeling older than my years, I walk toward the noise and smells of the kitchen, my night flooding back to me. I spent hours getting it ready for her. The kitchen, the retail space. All she needs to do is sort her things and she can open. I also didn’t want to leave her. Not alone. At night. Not after her needing the doctor. It scared me, seeing her double over in pain and knowing she doesn’t have anyone else. I sped to the hospital so fast; I’m surprised I didn’t take out someone on the way.
I pause in the doorway to watch her. She looks vibrant as always. Her delicious curves are food for my eyes. She’s been busy, clearly up for a while if the rows of cupcakes are anything to go by. I’m glad she hired some help, because I have no idea how she was going to manage all this when the baby is born.
She works quietly, yet diligently, not noticing me as she moves through the kitchen like she was born to do it. My eyes flick to the clock on the wall. Six a.m. Barely light out.
“Morning.” No point in hiding. She obviously saw me sleeping.
