Page 62 of About Tomorrow

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He had always been my choice, but until now, I hadn’t realized I was his. My not knowing why or how he felt led me to not trust him.

“The night Griff came here, he said he’d seen you at the bar. A girl was in your lap.” I had to get that out. It was the only other thing standing between me truly being able to trust Creed.

“And he came straight here and told you that?”

I nodded.

Creed shook his head with a scowl. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

I liked Griff’s mother and she wasn’t a bitch, but I didn’t think that was the point to his cursing. I kept my mouth closed and waited.

“Sailor, that was Rachel. She was flying out of Boston the next morning and was at the bar to hear me play before she left. She had sat in my lap because it kept the girls who were coming over away from me. I’d been asked to sign several body parts that night and Rachel fixed the problem.”

Griff hadn’t lied. He just hadn’t known the truth. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you before.”

“He’s not perfect. He’s a nice guy, but he’s also self-absorbed and selfish.”

I didn’t feel the need to defend Griff. He wasn’t a part of our equation anymore. Yes, he’d saved me when I needed saving but that was a chapter in my life that was now closed. He wasn’t the guy I had loved anymore. I would always care for Griff. He’d been an important part of my life for four years. But that was over now.

“Stay with me?” I asked him.

“With you is the only place I have ever wanted to be,” he replied.

Twenty-nine

November 28, 2019

The kitchen was a mess and I had made it that way. Determined to bake something for Thanksgiving dinner at Creed’s mother’s house had caused me more stress than I expected. I had gone through all of Gran’s Thanksgiving recipes and settled on pecan pie. I didn’t know how difficult pecan pie could be or how hard it was to find pecans at the store. Apparently, there was a shortage.

Pulling out the pecan pie from the oven, I sighed in relief that this one had turned out good. I’d burned the last one because I had misread the directions and set the oven too hot.

“Smells good,” Creed said, as he walked into the kitchen door from getting more firewood. He’d been going over to get firewood from his house more and more. We spent most of our time at Gran’s house and I required more heat than he did.

“This one worked!” I exclaimed as I sat it down on a pot holder.

“Is it vegan?” he asked me.

I glanced back at him over my shoulder. His hair was windblown and the stubble on his jawline gave him a rugged sexy look. “Yes,” I replied.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said with an amused grin.

“Vegan pecan pie is just as good as regular,” I told him, although I wasn’t exactly sure that was true. I’d never had Gran’s pecan pie. The holidays she’d come to visit us, she never had the chance to cook or bake. My mother had everything catered.

“You saying pecan will distract anyone from the taste if it’s bad,” he said then and sat the wood down in the holder by the stove.

“YOU are the one saying it wrong,” I told him.

He raised his eyebrows when he turned to look back at me. “Oh really? You do realize New England is where Thanksgiving started.”

I was almost positive they didn’t have pecan pie on the first Thanksgiving. Creed walked over to me and pulled me against him. He smelled incredible and because of that I could overlook the fact he was cold. I shivered but snuggled closer to him.

“You do know the way y’all say it is kind of gross,” I teased, scrunching my nose in distaste. “PEE-can? Seriously? I doubt our ancestors called them that.”

He chuckled then and bent down to kiss the tip of my nose. “That’s fine. Take your pick-AHN pie and make sure to call it that for my family’s amusement.”

“It’s pee-KAHN” I corrected him.

He began trailing kisses from my temple down to my jawline and pecan pie didn’t seem very important anymore. “I like the way you talk,” he whispered near my ear. “I always have.”

I shivered again but not from the cold. He was warm now and his hands were moving down my back to cover my bottom.

“Seems to be,” he said, as he began tugging up my hoodie. “I like every fucking thing about you.”

I lifted my arms up and he removed my top then he shrugged out of his jacket and pulled me back against him again. “I can’t do much without thinking about you,” he said, then his mouth covered mine and I went on my tiptoes, so I could reach him better.


Tags: Abbi Glines Romance