Pieces of Us - Carrie Elks Page 0,12

and Aiden, partners of Ember’s friends.

Griff never minded who joined them. But it was nice catching up with his two oldest friends.

Even if one of them was singing “Baby Shark” in the floodlights outside the bar right now.

“Seriously, though. This Autumn. She’s single, right?” Jackson asked as the door closed behind Lucas.

Griff shrugged. “I’ve got no idea. I didn’t ask about her marital status when she was telling me about raising my rent.”

Jackson laughed. “Did she have a ring on her finger?”

“What am I? Some kind of stalker?” Griff shook his head. “She’s from New York, she’s pretty, smart, and successful. That’s all I got, except she’s too smart to date a loser like you.” He grinned at Jackson’s outraged expression.

“Takes one to know one.”

“Yup.” Griff took another mouthful of beer.

“So what else do you know?”

“About Autumn?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop asking. I know nothing.” Apart from the fact he couldn’t stop thinking about those heels. Nor about the way his skin heated up when she slid her delicate hand into his.

Or the way he’d spent last night thinking about her after seeing her on the pier, and how most of those thoughts carried an R rating.

“Well tomorrow’s the perfect chance to find out,” Jackson told him. “A whole day at sea with the woman who has sexy shoes. I’m almost jealous.”

Griff sighed loudly. “I told her not to wear the shoes.”

The early morning sun was beating down on the vivid blue ocean as Autumn made her way along Paxton’s Pier toward the large boat moored at the end. Everything she was wearing she’d picked up from Lorne’s Surf Shop yesterday. White tennis shoes and cut-off shorts, along with a tight grey tank beneath a cropped navy hoodie. Nothing she’d ever think of wearing in New York, not even in the blistering heat.

She hadn’t bothered to straighten her long, dark hair, either, figuring it would get blown into a frizzy mess anyway. Instead, she’d pulled it into a messy bun, with tendrils trailing down her slender neck.

Her dad would have a fit if he saw her like this. Lydia, on the other hand, would be jumping for joy.

There was already activity at the boat when she reached the metal gangplank that led from the pier to the boat deck. A young guy was carrying boxes of supplies onboard, and a teenage girl was scrubbing the wooden planks of the deck with a thick brush. Griff was nowhere to be seen. Autumn rolled her shoulders back and pinned a smile on her face before she stepped onto the mesh of the gangplank, trying not to feel completely out of place.

It was just for one day. To learn more about the whale watching business. Maybe she’d even be able to help.

“You okay there?” the guy asked as she stepped onto the deck. He was walking out of what looked like a cabin on the far end, his head tipped to the side as he took her in. “You’re a little early for the excursion. We don’t set off for a while yet.”

“I’m looking for Griff,” she told him. “I’m Autumn Paxton, I’m helping out today.”

The guy nodded his head. “Oh sure. He’s in the wheelhouse.”

The last time she’d stepped foot on a boat was for her friend’s wedding reception in Manhattan. That had been more of a cruiser, complete with waiters in white jackets and glasses of champagne as soon as she was onboard.

She hadn’t been wearing cut-offs and tennis shoes then, either. But she still had no idea where the wheelhouse was.

“Can you point me in the right direction?” she asked him, looking around the boat. It was bigger than it looked from afar.

“Up the ladder on the starboard side,” he told her, pointing at a wooden ladder that ran up the side of the cabin. “Hey, Griff,” he called out. “There’s somebody here to see you.”

Griff climbed down the ladder and Autumn swallowed hard. There was something so easy about him. It was like watching an animal in its natural habitat. There was no guile or false machismo. But you only had to look at him to know who was in charge.

And yeah, that thought sent a shiver down her spine.

His long, thick legs were clad in denim, right to the ankles, unlike her own cut-offs. A black t-shirt stretched across his muscled torso, with Angel Sands Whale Watching printed on the back. And a pair of sunglasses were casually atop his head. But it was the way he was smiling at her that