I cracked an eye open. No sand and surf. There was only smoke billowing from my SUV’s hood. I let my head fall back to the wheel. It had been overheating more and more recently. I knew what was wrong, but I’d put off taking it to the mechanic. The thought of one more unexpected bill had tears burning the backs of my eyes.
I’d had a long talk with Coach Hughes today, and she wanted Mia in the gym five times a week. Mia was begging to go. And there was even a family willing to let her carpool with them to Shelter Island so I didn’t have to haul the other kids with me to take Mia to practice. I wanted so badly to find a way to make it happen for her. Hell, I’d sell plasma if I had to. If she had what it took to get a college scholarship, it could change everything for her. Not to mention, nothing lit Mia up like when she was tumbling.
I let out a sigh and watched the smoke continue billowing from my engine. Eventually, it would stop. Then I would deal with it. One thing at a time.
The sound of a vehicle approaching had me checking my rearview mirror. A familiar truck pulled to the side of the road behind me. Tipping my head heavenward, I silently begged the Universe to swallow me whole. Why did this man have to witness so many of my embarrassing moments? The burn at the backs of my eyes grew stronger as Griffin climbed out of his truck.
I watched as his long legs ate up the distance separating us. Everything about him said he was in control and command. I took a deep, steadying breath, willing my emotions to go on lockdown. I unbuckled my seat belt and pushed open the door. “Hey,” I greeted as I slid out of the SUV.
Griffin scowled at my older-than-dirt SUV. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing levity into my voice. “Big Bertha here just decided to overheat on me.”
I didn’t even get a flicker of a smile with my Big Bertha comment. Instead, Griffin rounded the vehicle to get a better look at the smoke. “I’ll call a tow.”
“No!” I tempered my tone. “No. Thank you. I just need to wait for it to stop smoking before I can open the hood. I’ve got antifreeze in the back.”
Griffin’s expression hardened even further. “It’s not safe for you to drive like this. Or for you to open the hood without work gloves. You got some of those?”
I licked my lips, cursing the fact that I didn’t even have a towel in my SUV. “No. But I can just wait.”
“Or you could call a mechanic,” Griffin argued.
I bristled at his tone. “Look, I’ve dealt with this countless times before. I know what to do. It’s not a permanent fix, but it’ll work good enough for now. I’ll get the heater hose repaired when I can.”
Griffin tipped his head back as if praying for patience. “I have gloves in my truck.”
“We still have to wait for it to stop smoking. You’ll be late for whatever it is you were going to do. There’s no need for you to sit around here with me.” Because I couldn’t take Griffin’s probing stare—the one that seemed to see everything. I already knew that my life was a mess, that I was barely hanging on by a thread. I didn’t want anyone else witnessing my disaster.
“I’m not leaving you on the side of the road alone,” he growled.
“Okay, then.” Apparently, that finely tuned moral compass didn’t allow for damsels in distress. The thing was, while I was in distress, I was far from a damsel.
Griffin strode back to his truck, each step an attack on the ground. He wrenched open the cab door and rustled around for something. After a minute, he slammed the door closed and walked back in my direction, a pair of gloves in hand.
I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze away from his broad shoulders and scowling face. Instead, I chose to survey my still-smoking vehicle. The white billows were a little less now. But Big Bertha showed no signs of stopping altogether.
“Where are the kids?”
I looked back at Griffin. It was the first question he had ever asked me. I’d been making his sandwiches and trying to pry smiles out of him for years, but this was the first thing he’d ever actually inquired about. I had a hunch it was a self-protection thing. If he didn’t ask questions of anyone, maybe they’d return the favor. “Will’s at football practice. Mia has gymnastics. And Ava is hanging with Kenna at her office. I was just on my way to pick her up, actually.” I threw a glare at my SUV, mentally cursing it six ways from Sunday.
Griffin nodded. “Busy family.”
“Two-thirds of the tiny terrors really like their activities.”
“How’d they earn that name?”
Griffin’s lips twitched on the question. God, I was a sucker for that flicker of movement. I cleared my throat, forcing my gaze away from his mouth. “I started calling Will a tiny terror from the day my mom brought him home from the hospital, and he kept me up half the night. The nickname just kind of stuck.”
“How do they feel about it?”
I turned to face Griffin fully. “What’s with all the questions all of a sudden?”
He gave a careless shrug. “We’ve got time to kill.”
I stole a quick glance at the hood of my vehicle. Smoke still seeped out a bit. “Fine. Question for a question.” Griffin stayed silent for a moment, and I raised a brow in challenge.
“Fair’s fair, I guess.”
I did my best to hide my grin. There were only about a million things I wanted to know about the mysterious man who ventured into my store a few times a week. But I knew I had to choose carefully. If I got too personal too quickly, he’d shut this down in a flash. “What’s your favorite vegetable?”
Griffin blinked a few times. “That’s what you’re going with?”
I shrugged. “Inquiring minds want to know.”
“Corn, I guess.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Corn barely counts as a vegetable.”
Griffin’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a vegetable.”
“Fine. Give me another one.”
He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Asparagus. That counts as two questions, by the way.”
I was suddenly thinking of all the ways I could work asparagus into the menu at The General Store, planning on researching recipes, pulling out old favorites. I gave myself a mental shake. I did not need to be planning anything around this man. “All right. Your turn. Ask away.”
“How old were you when you got custody of your siblings?”
I did my best to keep my smile firmly in place. “Twenty-one.” Still a baby myself in so many ways. I’d had no idea what I was getting myself into. If it hadn’t been for the Shelter Island Child Alliance, I would’ve been up shit creek without a paddle. They helped me with parenting classes and a million other kinds of support.
Griffin let out a low whistle. “So young.”
“I was all they had left.”
“They’re lucky to have you.”
“They are.” I wasn’t the perfect guardian, but I also knew that no one would’ve tried harder than I did to give the children in their care a good life. I eyed the man in front of me. A faint scar bisected one eyebrow and his cheek, but somehow, it only added to his beauty, made it more real. “How’s the house coming along?”
Griffin blinked a few times as if surprised that I knew he was working on the massive farmhouse on the opposite end of the island. But everyone knew. There had long been hushed conversations about what a shame it was that the home had fallen into such disrepair. When Griffin returned to Anchor, everyone had expected him to hire a contractor to get the place in shape. Islanders had been shocked when word got around that Griffin was doing the work himself. No one else had set foot in the home since the first few months he was here.