But even if he did make things right with Garland, he knew it wouldn’t curb his desire to be a part of this family. Yet, Griffin knew belonging to the Holmeses was only a small part of what was driving him.
He wanted Indina. He’d wanted her for months. He wanted all of her, not just her body. Griffin dreaded even thinking about the conversation they must have, but it was their last night on the cruise. He refused to step foot off this ship without telling Indina where he stood.
It was all or nothing. Either she agreed to being more than just the occasional bed partner, or they broke things off completely.
Pain pierced his chest just at the thought of his time with her coming to an end, but Griffin could no longer stomach being used as just a means of getting off. If Indina could not see that they deserved to be an actual couple, then he was done.
Toby called Griffin over to finish a discussion they’d started with Jonathan earlier today about ideas he wanted to incorporate into the new club he was opening in New Orleans’s Warehouse District. A few minutes later, he noticed Indina rise from the chair where she’d been sitting most of the night. Her eyes connected with his. It was the first time she’d looked his way since they’d arrived in the lounge. Griffin didn’t know what to make of the despondent expression clouding her eyes. He heard her say to Monica that she was tired and turning in for the night before walking out of the lounge.
After another twenty minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore. He made a quick excuse about turning in early and made his way to their cabin. He walked in to find it empty.
Dammit.
He was just about to go back out and search for her when he caught sight of Indina’s feet propped up on the balcony railing. Relief crashed into him, but it was quickly replaced with a feeling of dread. It was time they had the conversation that had been months in the making.
Griffin walked over to the sliding glass door and pushed it further open. Indina sat with her hands folded over her stomach, her head tilted back. The slight breeze off the water blew the hair around her face. The soft crush of the waves against the ship’s hull provided an eloquent song to the portrait of serenity she presented.
But Griffin could tell it was just a facade. The tension lines bracketing her mouth betrayed what was really going on inside her head. He knew because he’d been dealing with those same feelings since they left the restaurant in Merida.
“We need to talk,” Griffin said.
She didn’t move. Didn’t open her eyes. If not for the small dip in her brow Griffin would have wondered if she’d heard him at all.
“We need to talk about what you said as we were leaving the restaurant this afternoon. I know you don’t want to discuss it. That’s why you’ve been in this sulky mood tonight, right?”
She remained silent for several moments more. His chest tightened with each second that ticked by. Finally, she raised her head and looked at him.
“A little,” she admitted. “I know what you’re going to say and I’m not sure I’m ready to hear it.”
“What am I going to say?”
The words came out in a whisper. “That you want a real relationship.”
“Would that really be so bad?” Griffin came farther out onto the veranda, taking the other chair. He clasped his hands together and stared out at the water. “You say it as if the thought of starting a real relationship with me is the scariest thing on earth.” He turned to her. “Why is that, Indina?”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. The tormented look in her eyes gutted him to the point where he nearly backed off, but Griffin steeled himself against the urge to halt the conversation. They were in the midst of a pivotal moment. There was no going back.
“I don’t know,” Indina finally answered. “I’m just…I don’t know how to feel about this, Griffin. I liked what we were doing before. I liked it because it was safe.”
“And you think being in a real relationship with me won’t be?”
“It hasn’t worked out for me in the past.”
He curbed the sudden impulse to lash out at her for comparing him to the men who’d hurt her before.
“I deserve a chance to prove that I’m better than the guys you’ve been with in the past,” Griffin said.
“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry. I just…” She held her hands out, pleading with him to understand. “What about all the things that could go wrong? What if we discover that we don’t work as a couple? How could we ever go back to just being friends?”
He stared at her for a moment before he said in a soft voice, “You do realize we aren’t friends now, don’t you?”
Instant shock registered in her light brown eyes.
“We are friends,” she said.
“No, we’re not. We’re coworkers who fuck on the weekends.”
Her entire body went rigid. Griffin started to apologize for his crudeness, but decided against it. Maybe the shocking language would get through to her since his subtle hints sure as hell hadn’t.
“Indina, before this weekend I didn’t know how many siblings you had. I didn’t know your favorite color, or that you liked bananas, or that you were a cheerleader in high school. I learned more about you in the past three days than I’d learned in over eight months of sleeping with you. Friends talk to each other about what’s going
