Bittersweet (True North, #1)

by Sarina Bowen

“Look,” he said. “I have a feeling I know why your man at BPG doesn’t have his calls answered too often. His prices are probably bullshit, right? So his new plan is to send a hot sorority girl in a halter top and short skirt to dazzle the poor hicks who grow his food. Your guy thinks I’m a big enough idiot that a nice rack and a bright smile will blind me for long enough to agree to sell apples for a buck a pound.”

“Did you call me Grouchy Griff a minute ago?”

Call her. That’s the thing—I had called her after our tryst. Even the younger, stupider version of me hadn’t missed the fact that she and I had amazing chemistry. So I’d called to invite her out to dinner. But apparently she decided I wasn’t worth the effort. My call went unreturned.

Griffin walked up to the fence and reached down, scratching the pig between his ears. “Hey, Tauntaun,” he dropped his voice to a near whisper. “Hey, guy. You’ve been a good boy. Thank you.”

I was taller than the wall, so we ended up staring into each other’s eyes even as she lifted her top over her head and tossed it aside. Arousal tightened my body everywhere. I knew I needed to look away. But her eyes held mine, like a taunt. She reached behind her body, her shoulders jumping as she unclasped a hidden bra. Jesus Christ.

Hearing a noise in the hallway, I lifted my chin to listen. A moment later Griff appeared, still wearing his towel. With one quick yank he cast it aside. Then I watched in surprise as he lifted the quilt and nudged me. “Move over, baby.”

His body relaxed even further as he got comfortable. His thumb stroked my skin, leaving shivers in its wake. I risked a sweep of my hand across his ribs, and he twitched. “Sorry,” I said immediately. The low, unfamiliar rumble I heard next turned out to be a chuckle. “S’okay,” he whispered. “Just ticklish.” That was charming and unexpected. So of course I had to do it again. I never did have any impulse control. My fingertips traced lightly down his chest until he twitched again and then grabbed my hand. “Enough of that, princess.” He kissed my palm and then placed it firmly in the middle of his chest. I stretched to kiss his cheek, my face skimming through the surprisingly soft beard on the way to finding his smooth skin. He made a soft grunt of surprise and then sighed. His arms tightened around me. The moment was unexpectedly tender. Nothing like the awkward dismount from a drunken college hookup. He was so warm and solid beneath me. I could touch him all night long and never get bored. “Goodnight, Griff,” I whispered into the dark. “Goodnight, baby,” he rasped. “Sleep now.” And I did.

“Hey. Not so fast.” Before I had a chance to react, Griff had moved around the car door and into my personal space. Given our height difference, my eyes were at beard level. His full lips said, “I get a chance to say goodbye, right?” I swallowed hard, because I hate goodbyes. If there was such a thing as goodbye-a-phobia, I definitely had a bad case. Griff’s big body came closer, the warmth of it engulfing me. With two of his thick fingers, he tilted my chin up to meet his gaze. “Hey,” he whispered. “You okay?” His brown eyes searched my expression. “Of course,” I bit out. Then his mouth was on mine, his lips full and warm. I wrapped my arms around him without waiting for an invitation. And he kissed me slowly and deeply, while I clung to him like a well-made mayonnaise on a spoon. His tongue made a hungry pass over mine, and I knew I’d be tasting him all the way home to Boston. When he pulled back, I wasn’t ready. “That’s just a little something to remember me by,” he whispered. As if I could forget. “Later,” I said, trying to keep things light. And why did that seem so hard all of a sudden? “Goodbye,” he corrected, backing away. Right. I got into the car and started the engine while Griff watched, an unreadable expression on his face. He folded his brawny arms across his chest as I turned around. He gave me a single wave, and then I headed the other way, down the drive and out of his life.

The conversation went on, but I was fixated on Griff’s touch. Those naughty fingers brushed my leg again, but only the outside. Maybe I really was “Tawdry” because I regretted shoving him away from me. Unbidden, my leg drifted ever so slightly closer to him beneath the table. Griff chuckled quietly, then skimmed his palm over my bare knee again. I stopped breathing.

I was trying to subtly tuck away my aching dick and zip my shorts, when she scooped up the fucking winter squash and set it at my knee. “Be a dear and carry this into the house, will you? I know you hate it when I carry things.” She gave me a cheeky grin I would have liked to wipe off her face with my tongue. Then I carried that fucking squash in front of my crotch all the way indoors.

Sifting my fingers through her soft hair, I had the loopy, impractical idea that we might just belong together for keeps.

“Hello,” I said walking toward her car. She turned her chin up to look at me, an appraising look on her face. “Hi there.” “Thought I might hear from you before now,” I said slowly. Audrey squinted at me. “The contracts department hasn’t given me any paperwork for you yet.” I stared her down. “Ah, well. Guess there’s no reason you’d stop by, then. What was I thinking?”

“Hi Mom,” I said, setting the rice down on the table. “I like Audrey. A lot.”

I drove on until we reached Lake Morey. The public boat launch parking lot was empty, so I pulled in and killed the engine. “If you don’t want to watch aliens destroy the earth, we can just talk. Or go home and watch something else. I picked the drive-in because I wanted to spend some time with you.” Crickets chirped outside our open windows. I watched Audrey, but she kept her face turned away from me. “Is something wrong?” I asked quietly. “Should I take you home?” Her beautiful eyes darted toward me and then away again. “Nothing’s wrong, Griff. Not with you.” “With who, then?” I picked up her smooth hand from the truck’s bench seat and kissed it. “Tell me how to make you happy, and I’ll do it.”

“I really like you, Audrey.” “You mentioned that earlier.” When he chuckled, I bounced a little from the motion. “But you think it’s just for sex.”

“Wanting you makes it hard to ignore that I’ve been lonely. That maybe I need more than fourteen hours a day of hard labor and a bed in the bunkhouse. I need you in my bed. In my kitchen…” I snorted. My mother would stage a feminist intervention if she could hear that. Griff shook his head. “That came out wrong. But every time I see you in my kitchen you look happy as a clam. You smile, and you get this look on your face like you’re in the zone. It’s nice. Makes me want to throw you over my shoulder and haul you away with me.”

“Where else do you need me?” Mom would burst a vessel if she heard that, too. “Everywhere,” he growled. “Want you in the cider house, tasting the blends with me. Want you sitting beside me in church, when I take Mom on Sundays. But after that I’ll need you in the shower. Up against the wall…”

“Your bed or mine?” Griff asked. That woke me up. I lifted my head off his shoulder and tried to fill my lungs with oxygen. He wanted to spend the night?

Twelve hours later I awoke to a knock on my cabin door. I sat up fast, heart pounding. The room was bright with morning sunlight. And I was alone in the bed. “Hello?” I called out. The clock said eight. “Rise and shine, princess. Time for breakfast.” He banged on the door again. “I’ve milked fifty cows already. Wake up!”

“I can’t,” she’d said quietly. “I’m on my way back to the city. They’ve given me a five a.m. shift on the line at Bostonian Bakery for tomorrow morning.” It took a second to make sense of that announcement. But no matter how I turned the words over in my head, I came up with the same conclusion. “You left Vermont? Already?” “Yeah,” she said softly. Just like that, my happy vibe collapsed. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Princess! You back here somewhere?”

Whether it was convenient or not, Audrey and I just fit. We’d always been good together. It’s just that I’d never allowed myself to imagine a future where we shared everything. A bed. A home. A name.

And I knew she was my endgame.

“I just told you my five-year plan. What’s yours?” Easy question. “To get Daphne and Dylan through college.” “That’s not what I mean. What’s the beautiful part?” I gathered her hair in my hand and smoothed it off her shoulder, because I couldn’t stop touching her. “I’m holding it right here.” “Griffin,” she warned. Apparently I wasn’t allowed to say things like that.

“But I’d keep you here if I could. And I’m going to keep saying it, just in case you forget.”

“I liked you a lot, princess. But I did a shitty job convincing you.” I put an admiring hand over his brawny wrist and squeezed. “That was April or May of your senior year, right? We would have gotten a few good dates in, maybe. Then you moved to Green Bay. Timing has never been our forte, Griffin.”

“But if you get discouraged…if you need a day off from trying, I’ll be here where you can find me.”

“Baby, don’t cry,” I insisted. She raised her head, startled. “But…I…” She tried to take a deep breath, but she hiccuped instead. “Everything is wrecked.” I was over there in an instant, setting down the box and then scooping her up into my lap. “It sucks, what happened. But you and I will be fine.”

“As the saying goes, you’re supposed to do what you love.” I tapped my chest. “I’m it, baby.” She giggled through her tears. “I do kind of love you. A little bit.” My heart gave a squeeze. “Just a little bit? Because I’m falling for you big time.”

But, damn it, it was okay to want things. It was okay to change my mind and move to Vermont on a whim and skinny dip beside an organic apple orchard if I felt like it. I wanted that life, and I wanted this man. I wasn’t giving up. I was trading up.

“At the risk of freaking you out, because you don’t like it when I say these things…” He stole a glance at me and then returned his eyes to the road. “I love you, princess. You’re the sweet that balances out my natural tannins.”

I put my hand on his cheek, letting his beard tickle my palm. “I love you, too, Griff. All two-hundred stubborn pounds of you.” He tilted his head into my palm. “That’s all that matters. The rest will work out,” he promised. “Somehow.”

“Hey.” A few minutes later Griffin caught me standing there, mentally adding cute towels and a fluffy bath mat to the picture. “It’s not the Plaza…” “Stop. I want to live here with you. Shower sex is out. But that’s the only negative I can find.” “There’s still the outdoor shower, so we’re covered.” He set the boxes down and kissed me. “This place needs a new kitchen,” he said between kisses. “I can’t renovate until the cash flow improves. Sometime in the next millennium.” “I don’t care.” “You haven’t seen those ugly 1960s countertops.” Kiss. “But we can do some simple things.” Kiss. “We can paint.” Kiss. “You can choose the colors.” I gave him a long, slow kiss. The idea of making a home with Griffin was wonderful and so unexpected. I felt giddy just picturing it. “We’re gonna christen every room,” I breathed.