“Buy in?”
“On the whiskey. A new release called The Builder’s Arms. It’s something I’ve been asking him for years for. He’s never given me any indication that he would. Almost became a running joke.” I rub my face, still not believing it.
“Well, that sounds nice? I mean, you do have nice arms.” She bites into the pickle, looking at me adorningly. “Oh… so good…” She talks with her mouth full, and I grin at being able to satisfy her craving.
“He thinks I should be settling down. Putting down roots.”
She nods, pausing mid-bite. “What do you think?”
“I’d like to. Just not sure how. Not sure if I…” I take a deep breath, my heart rate escalating, fear creeping in on all sides.
“If you deserve it?” She finishes off exactly what I was thinking.
I lower my head. I can’t look at her. I feel so ashamed. Ashamed that I couldn’t save my brother. Ashamed that I couldn’t save my mother. Ashamed that I never was the man they needed me to be. Worried that I can’t be that man for her. “Yeah…” is all I can say.
“How did you become a builder?” She puts the jar and fork down on the nightstand and turns to fully face me.
I look up, not expecting that question. “I was a kid traveling through Whispers. Caught the bus here, trying to find something new. Running from the heat I had on me back home. I had some experience in construction, did a shop class every day in juvie, and had an eye for detail. Spent a few years working with a crew in Northern Missouri, where I learned to hammer a nail before I learned to read properly. At least my dad was good for something. Drunk most of the time, but his laboring work meant he passed down some skills to me. When I bounced around foster homes, I always had a pencil in my hand and was drawing. Not art or anything like that, but plans, designs. I liked the idea of designing and building houses for people. Especially since I didn’t really have one. Ended up here at a small bar on Main Street, which has now turned into the Whiteman’s Bar, and that’s where I met Tanner.”
“And all these years later, what do you think makes a house a home?”
Blinking wordlessly, I stare into her beautiful eyes. I build the walls, the ceilings, the gardens, the floors. I build pools, spas, hotels, bakeries…
“The one thing I’ve been waiting my whole life for… but never felt good enough to have,” I tell her, then almost hold my breath.
“What have you been waiting for, Griff?” she whispers, undeniable hope shining in her gaze.
“Someone like you,” I whisper back, and unable to wait a second longer, I reach out, cupping her face and bringing her lips to meet mine. I kiss her. Languidly. Wanting to savor this moment. As her soft lips touch mine, it feels like we’re suspended in time. Half of me can’t believe it. Can’t believe I’ve found a woman who matches me. That accepts me for who I am. The other half is scared. Scared I’ll mess this up. That my past will make it too hard for me to move forward, to accept that I’m worthy. But I know the truth. I’ll never feel worthy of this woman. And I also know I’ll never let her go. As I pull back slowly, I look at her, her eyes searching mine, and I grab her hand, our fingers entwining so effortlessly. Knowing it’s the truth. Knowing she’s what will help make my house a home. She and the baby.
“Well then…” She clears her throat. “We better go.” She starts to get up, breaking our moment, pulling the blanket off her as she shimmies to the edge of the bed.
I frown, totally confused as I look up at her. “Go? Go where?”
“The hospital. My water just broke.”
My heart stops beating before picking up speed.
“Your what?” I stand abruptly, panic making my insides curl.
“It appears this baby thought making a home with you, Griffin, was all it needed. Now it’s coming.”
“Oh shit.” I help her out of bed, feeling warm all over. “Sweetness?” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. My heart is thumping in my chest like it never has before. Fear. Excitement. Love. All overwhelming me yet fulfilling me in equal measures.
“It’s alright. We’ve got this,” she tells me, squeezing my hand tight. Giving me her strength. Her water just broke, she’s about to have a baby, and she’s comforting me?
I take a breath and settle myself. I need to step up. I have to be the man she needs. I couldn’t be one before, for my mom or my brother, but I’m not going to let her down.
“I’ve got you.” Kissing her head, I grab her bag and help her down the stairs before breaking every speed limit known to man on the way to Whispers Hospital.
26
Savannah
I didn’t know what to expect. But this is worse. Far worse. It’s not just pain; it’s pressure, heat, and I feel like I’m unraveling from the inside out.
“Okay, Savannah, the baby’s heartbeat is a little low.” Hudson’s voice is calm, but it has a hint of firmness to it I haven’t heard before. “It could just be a little sleepy, but you’re also not dilating how I expected either, so we’re going to transfer you to Williamstown. They’re better equipped for births that might need intervention.”
“No. Please…” I beg, resistance filtering through my body. I hear the heart rate monitors connected to me beep a little faster. I don’t want to go to Williamstown. I never want to go back there.
