I nod, having only been to Williamstown a few times, so I see the appeal of Whispers.
“What about you? Local?”
I huff a little, because I don’t know the answer.
“Not born here. Not raised here. But I seem to aways be here,” I tell her honestly.
“Whispers seems to attract good people.” As she looks at me pointedly, my eyes meet hers.
“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”
She offers me a small smile, one that you wouldn’t think could penetrate my hardened chest, yet it does. As she tries to stifle another yawn, I lift my gaze above her head to the clock on the wall. It’s getting late. I could keep going for hours. I’m used to working around the clock. But something tells me this woman needs to rest. She’s beautiful but I can tell she’s weary.
“Tired?”
“Oh, sorry… I’ve been awake since five, and it’s catching up with me. I don’t sleep very well anymore.”
I frown. “Five a.m.?” I thought I was the only one up at that hour.
“Yeah, life of a baker!” She laughs lightly, shrugging her shoulders, and I nod. It makes sense.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. Early then.”
“Thank you, Griffin. Truly.” She looks around at what I’ve already achieved, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say her eyes are glassy. Women and tears, the two things I don’t do well with, so I grab my things and focus on heading out.
She shuffles closer as I start to edge toward the door. “Oh, before you leave, I know Tanner said he was paying you, but I want to as well.”
“I’m not accepting your money.” I won't even accept Tanner’s. I’m here. I’m capable. The constant work keeps my mind busy.
“I can pay in other ways,” she says with a smile.
My eyebrows hit my hairline.
Seeing my reaction, her words rush out. “Oh, I mean with pastries…” Her cheeks tint bright pink, and I grit my teeth, mentally telling my dick to stand down.
I remain silent as I look at the container she stretches out to me, filled with cinnamon rolls, and my throat dries. I’m not sure I can stomach it. But when I grab the container, her smile hits me straight in the chest.
“Oh, and here. I popped in an extra cupcake for later.”
I nod because I have no words. I secretly hope the cupcake tastes better, but I doubt it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I confirm, and she follows me to the door. Seeing this woman standing here on her own, in what’s effectively a worksite, has me feeling protective. “Lock up after I leave.”
She nods. “I will.” There’s something in her gaze that makes it hard to take another step away.
Snapping out of it, I head outside and load my truck. But unable to help myself, I pause and look back at her, where she’s still standing at the shop entrance, like a woman I sure as hell shouldn’t be looking at like I am.
I wait and watch as she closes the door, and once I hear the click of the lock, I jump into my truck and start the drive to my new place on Billionaire Boulevard.
The drive is quiet as I snake through the streets, my eyes moving from the road in front of me to the container next to me. Before I can think about it, I open it and shovel the dry and overly salted pastries into my mouth for the entire drive and force myself to like every single one of them.
Stomach be damned.
5
Savannah
“Miss Shepherd?”
