when Griffin’s grandparents had returned to Ireland to raise the baby—who grew up to become Griffin’s father—but she knew Griffin had been born and raised there, apparently never knowing of his real ancestry. Melody found that odd, given just how different he looked from the other Gallaghers. Surely there had been some speculation.
The joke around Randolph County was that there must be a Gallagher baby factory somewhere that popped them out on a conveyer belt, each meeting the same specific Gallagher baby criteria. The resemblance amongst them all, down to the last cousin—and there were endless numbers of them—was uncanny. Dark hair, flashing blue eyes, charming grin, above average height and build, all of which held true whether they were male or female.
While Griffin was certainly impressive enough in the latter two departments, he was neither dark-haired nor blue-eyed. In fact, it was his close-cropped sandy blond hair, slightly darker brows, and thickly lashed, pale-toalmost translucent green eyes that had caught her off guard when she’d come bustling out of the back.
He looked lean and rugged, even in a perfectly cut suit and overcoat that had likely set him back more than she cleared in a month. His face was hard and angular, giving him the almost brutish air of someone who could hold his own in a brawl. The slight bump on the bridge of his nose indicated he probably had. Then he’d smiled, and there had been a surprising twinkle in his eyes, an unexpected sensual curve to those chiseled, hard lips, all combining to transform him from street tough to fallen angel. One with a very tarnished halo, who would no doubt try to tempt her into any number of unwise adventures.
After losing an entire morning’s work when her cooling racks had collapsed, she’d already been thrown for a loop, more concerned about replacing the crushed cupcakes for the Hamilton Senior Center centennial birthday celebration than rushing to see to the immediate needs of whoever was in the front of her shop.
To discover him behind the counter, and worse, finding herself hopelessly caught up in those ethereal eyes of his, and the naughty promises his smile was making ... not to mention that absurdly sexy accent hanging in the air between them . . . well, it was no surprise she’d taken refuge in the anger and frustration she’d already built up toward him, even though their paths had never crossed. It seemed a lot safer than allowing herself to think, even for one tiny second, that she might be attracted to the man whose very presence in her little town was a threat to everything she held dear.
Ever since the discovery of the diary, the town of Hamilton couldn’t stop buzzing about whether Lionel would recognize Trudy’s descendant as a true heir to the massive Hamilton empire. Trevor had come back long enough to help Sean and Holly verify the story in the diary, eventually connecting Griffin with Lionel and reiterating his desire to live his life on his own terms. Last Melody had heard, he was doing quite well with that plan. He lived in North Carolina with his wife of several years, Emma. In fact, Trevor and Emma had just added to their menagerie of rescue animals with a bouncing baby boy.
Melody smiled at the thought as she brushed flour off the front of her jacket, thinking it nice that people followed their dreams and found happiness in their successes. She’d thought she’d done that very thing when she’d left Hamilton as a high-minded seventeen-year-old, intent on earning a law degree and living her life in the fast-paced, oh-so-current world of the nation’s capital. By the time she’d entered law school, the grandmother who’d raised her was gone, and Hamilton was merely a fond memory of a childhood left behind for bigger and better things.
Melody snorted at that. Bigger maybe, but better, not so much. She’d lasted four years post graduation in the toxic hell that was life as a DC tax law litigator. Staring at her thirtieth birthday, worried about having the soul sucked directly out of her, she’d realized she needed a new dream.
She’d initially been lured back to Hamilton by her best childhood friend, Bernadette, the only one she’d remained in contact with over the years. Bernie had begged her to come and lend her tax and legal expertise in setting up Bernie’s new bakery business. So Melody had taken her first vacation since ... ever, deciding she could use the