Griffin PRE-ORDER July 28, 2025

Chapter 1: Griffin

"Theo, I'm not waiting another fucking minute!" I called up the stairs. No answer. I pounded up the creaky steps, making sure to hit each of the squeakiest ones with extra weight. Crusoe and Theo had stayed up late partying in the basement. When my cousin Theo wasn't working, he was riding bikes, playing video games and fucking women. Our other cousin Crusoe usually skipped the work part and went straight to video games and women. He occasionally came out to the construction site to work, but he preferred to stay attached to his game controller and whatever nice pair of tits he had visiting at the moment. Theo and Crusoe were best friends and my two roommates at the Shack. The Shack was an old beach house that had seen more than its share of coastal squalls and gale force windstorms, yet it still stood, slightly crooked and bearing all the scars of mother nature. We'd been renting it cheaply from the owner for a few years. Even though the house was crummy, it was big. But lately, it wasn't big enough for me. My two roommates and their constant gaming parties down in the basement were starting to get on my nerves. 

I reached Theo's door and decided I'd waited long enough for him that I was past the politeness of a knock. I knew exactly what I'd find inside and was not disappointed. In fact, impressed might have been a better word. Theo was on his stomach, fast asleep, his arm draped over the side of the mattress. A woman had her arm and leg draped across his naked body. Next to her was another woman with dyed purple hair and a giant dragon tattoo on her back. And a third woman was stretched out across the bottom of the mattress. She'd managed to win the sheet tug-of-war and was wrapped in it like a mummy. A blanket and two pillows lay on the floor between piles of clothes and shoes. 

I walked over to the bed and yanked Theo's head up by his long hair. "Ouch, fuck, what are you doing?" The women started to stir. The one draped over Theo's body turned over to her other side with a grouchy groan. 

"I'm leaving for work. You know—the place where you go so you can have money to live. You said your car battery was dead and that you needed a ride, but that ride is leaving in two minutes." 

Theo growled in anger and pushed to sitting. 

"Cover your junk. I just ate breakfast," I said.

Theo reached around blindly for a sheet to cover himself, but the sheet was still wrapped around the blonde mummy at the end of the bed. I spun around and grabbed the first thing I could reach. It was a black, lacy bra. I threw it at him. He snatched it from the air and dropped it on his balls. 

There was hardly any light in the room, but Theo squinted up at me as if I was shining an interrogation beam at him. "Can you give me twenty? I need to shower away this haze in my head."

I shook my head. "Nope. You're on your own." I turned to leave.

"Ah, come on, Fin. Okay, ten. Ten minutes."

I lifted my middle finger at him and walked out. 

"Thanks a lot, asshole," I heard him mutter as I reached the stairs.

I'd waited for Theo, and now, I was running late myself. My dad, Colt Stone, owned Stone Construction. He'd built the business from literally a tool box and some good skills. As a kid, I used to sit in the garage and watch him build stuff, and I knew then that I'd follow in the old man's footsteps. Working for your dad came with both challenges and bonuses, but we'd found a good working relationship. He worked hard to not be too big of a bossy asshole, and I worked hard to not be a nepo baby slacker. Dad had landed a big contract building a set of condos inland from the coast. It meant a longer commute, but it also meant steady work for at least a year. 

Dad rang as soon as I climbed into the truck. "Just leaving," I said.

"You're leaving late."

"Yeah, talk to Theo about that."

"Well, since I caught you still in Trayton, I need you to stop off at Brew and Scones. Stella is packing us up a box of scones. Thought I'd try and make us at least look civil to the new office manager. She starts today."

"Yeah, all right. See you soon." I dialed Theo. He answered grumpily.

"What, are you gonna rub it in now? I can't find a ride. Might have to ride my bike." Female voices floated around behind him. 

"You're going to ride your bike on the freeway?" I drove down the dirt driveway. Years ago, the path would have been covered in heavy gravel, but after decades of weather and vehicles, the gravel had either washed away or had been ground to sand. 

"No, I'll take roads. Should be there right about lunchtime."

"Yeah, yeah, put away the tiny fucking violin. I've got to stop by and get some scones from LaLa. Apparently, Dad wants to put on a show and convince the new office manager that we aren't a bunch of sweat-soaked heathens. I'll get the scones and then come back here to pick up your sorry ass. I swear, Theo, I'm just going to roll past the house, and you'd better fly out that fucking door and into the truck before I turn down the driveway."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be ready. See you soon."

I headed to the pier. Brew and Scones was a small shop midway down the pier. My cousin, Stella, twin sister of my cousin Jaxon, was working at the shop while she was earning her degree in archaeology. 

It was still early. The crisp fall weather made a morning walk on the pier, even for a scone and coffee, less inviting, so parking was easy. A row of the usuals, old guys who sat most mornings with their poles lined up on the railing waiting for a bite, filled one side of the pier. They spent a lot more time bullshitting and guzzling coffee than catching fish. 

A row of rock pigeons sat along the opposite railing waiting for scone crumbs. A few white gulls meandered up and down the planks looking for the same. A woman walked out of the scone shop with a paper bag and a cup of coffee. I'd never seen her before, but she had an amazing ass wrapped in tight jeans, and the rest of her was pretty spectacular too. Thick mahogany-brown hair was cropped short on her head, and big brown eyes took up most of her face. She glanced my way, smiled politely and walked over to the railing to stare out at the rippling ocean while she ate her scone. 

Stella was filling a box with scones when I walked in. Stella and my sister, Jules, were the only two girls in the Stone cousin group. We'd all been calling Stella LaLa since she was a little girl, and the nickname stuck. Stella was one of those women who could step inside a crowded room and stop all the conversations. She never liked the attention, but there was no way for her to turn off that natural light that always seemed to follow her around. She could be wild and, at the same time, grounded. She was close to my sister, Jules, but there was no one she knew better than her twin, Jaxon. Jaxon used to live in the Shack, but he'd recently moved in with his girlfriend, Bridget. Lucky bastard escaped, and now it was just me and the two idiots. 

"Hey, Fin, I'm almost done with your order." 

Admittedly, my attention was still on the woman outside the window. I motioned with my head. "Who's that?" I asked.

Stella twisted around to see who I was talking about. She rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, one track—all of you—one fucking track, and I have no idea who she is. She just innocently walked her fantastic figure and face into the scone shop probably thinking she could eat a scone without getting ogled." 

I held up my hand to slow her tirade. "Whoa, sorry for asking. And is ogled a word?"

Another eye roll. "Considering how much time you guys spend doing it, you really should look it up. And sorry for the rant. I'm having—" She shook her head. "Never mind."

I moved closer to the counter. "LaLa? What's going on? Is it that asshole, Vincent, again?" Stella had gone out with the guy twice and decided he wasn't for her, but he was still bothering her. 

She didn't answer. 

"Look, Jax and I will drive over to his place—" Stella started shaking her head. "Just hear me out. We won't hurt him, but we'll let him know he needs to stay the fuck away from you. You know when Jax and I team up, we can be pretty damn persuasive."

Stella placed the box on the counter for me to take. "I'll handle it."

Theo, Jaxon, Crusoe, Cormac and I were hyper-protective when it came to Stella and Jules, but as they got older, they'd started to get annoyed by our constant vigilance. I couldn't blame them, but at the same time, I couldn't turn off that instinct to protect them and neither could the others. 

"You know all you have to do is say the word," I said.

"Jeez, now you sound like a mafia member. It's fine. I've got it handled."

"Yeah, you said, only both times that you said it, you didn't sound the least bit convincing."

"Your dad already paid for these." She pushed the box forward a few inches to remind me why I was there. "See you later."

"All right. And don't be mad, LaLa. You know it's just—"

"I know. Now go. You'll be late for work."

Chapter 2: Shay

A deep blue ocean rippled almost nervously under the pier. Or maybe it was just my own case of nerves. I took a bite of the blueberry scone. Crumbs dropped and took off like dust in the wind. The nearby pigeons immediately swooped down from the railing to clean up the mess. I glanced back to watch them eagerly vacuum up the crumbs and looked up just as the incredibly hot man walked out of the scone shop. Talk about a movie-star caliber face, and everything beneath the face was breathtaking too. He was wearing a black T-shirt under a flannel button down, but I could tell by the breadth of his shoulders and the way the shirt hugged his arms that he was built. 

One of the pigeons walked right up and tapped my shoe. I startled and laughed before purposely dropping a crumb down for the pushy bird. It was a mistake. Instantly, birds of every shape and size dropped from some invisible bird chute in the sky. Seconds later, I was surrounded by at least thirty nosy, greedy pigeons and gulls. I took a few steps forward to try and remove myself from the beaky circle, but they moved with me, all of their black, beady eyes focused on the scone in my hand. 

I frantically tossed out a few crumbs and realized I'd just made the classic "pouring water on a grease fire" mistake. More birds showed up. It seemed every feathered animal on the coast had heard word about the silly lady tossing out blueberry scone pieces. There just wasn't that much scone to go around, so some of the birds started moving in on me, determined to be the winner in the contest for a crumb. 

A gull tapped its long orange beak against my leg. I screamed and threw the entire scone up in the air. Flapping wings and angry squawks followed. I was trapped under a cloud of feathers, beaks and talons. I covered my head and crouched down. A large hand took hold of my arm. 

"Go on, get out of here, you scavengers," he said as he flailed his big arm. I tucked against him for shelter as he scared the last of them off. To say I felt embarrassed and ridiculous was an understatement. The beautiful woman running the scone shop had come out to see what the commotion was about. She shot a wry smile and head shake toward the man and went back inside.

When the last pair of wings had flapped away, I felt safe enough to emerge from the protective cocoon of his arm. My face was warm with a blush. "Apparently, birds like scones," I said in a nervous twitter. The birds had gone, and my frayed nerves were starting to smooth, but something about the man standing just inches from me had set off a storm of butterflies in my stomach. "Thank you for saving me from my Hitchcock nightmare."

His smile was as stellar as the rest of him. "My pleasure. Hitchcock?" he asked, confused.

"You know, the old-time, horror-flick producer." I lowered my chin to give it a doubled up look and pushed my stomach out. "Good evening," I said in the infamous Alfred Hitchcock baritone. I'd now embarrassed myself twice because he clearly had no idea who I was talking about. I waved my hand. "My mom and I used to watch black and white movies every Friday night, and there was this Hitchcock movie where the birds went nuts, and they attacked—well great, I'm rambling like a madwoman to add to my humiliation."

"I think it's the cutest fucking rambling I've ever heard, and for future reference, in case I'm not here next time, don't give them scones. As you witnessed, they have a very big greedy bird network, and one little woman with a scone is no match for them. I once watched a flock of gulls chase a woman all the way down the pier because she'd walked on eating a giant pretzel and had made the fatal mistake of dropping a piece." The man had incredible jewel-green eyes highlighted stunningly by black lashes. His thick black hair was brushed back off his clean-shaven face. "Well, if you're all right, then, I'm off to work." Another heartbreaking smile. "I'm Griffin, by the way."

"I'm Shay, and I'm eternally grateful to you for saving me from what was destined to be a very bad morning. I've got to get to work, too. Thanks again, and I promise, no more scone tossing on this pier."

Griffin walked with me back down the pier, then with a moment of shy awkwardness we both smiled politely and went our separate ways. 

I got in my car and moved the mirror to get one more glance at my hero before he climbed into his truck. I was still in a cloud of shock and, frankly, feeling a little bit of heartache from the last few minutes on the pier. The pushy birds had shocked me, and the handsome stranger who'd come to my rescue had rekindled one of my favorite daydreams, the one where the handsome prince comes in to carry me away from reality. It seemed good men really did exist, and some even came in incredible packages. 

My phone buzzed. I picked it up and looked at the screen. And then, there was the man who could instantly shatter my daydreams and remind me of the darker side of things. "I'll be home in two days." It was short and to the point, and as simple as the message was, it sent a jolt of sadness through me. Tate's return home meant my half-life, the one where I was a happy-go-lucky, single woman who could stay up all night and watch old movies while wearing oversized sweats and eating greasy popcorn if she felt like it, ended. It meant breezing down the hallway and stepping into the house without the fear of an angry tirade, or worse, was over. It meant being myself, laughing out loud, dancing and not having to watch what I said or did was over. Tate's return obliterated that half-life. The second he walked inside with his shit-stomper boots and angry scowl, I became his unhappy and perpetually on edge wife. There was a time, back when we were in our early twenties, where I thought he was the coolest, hottest man on the planet. How quickly a vile personality could make good looks vanish. His trucking job took him away from home more than half the year, and I thanked my lucky stars for that job every day. Flipping back to my single woman life was the only thing that kept me sane. 

I dropped my phone in my purse. No response was needed, and he wasn't expecting one. I started the car and drove off toward work.

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