Page 74 of The Engineer

“You okay?” Griff had left her alone for a few moments of privacy, but now he was back at her side. His fingers interlinked with hers, his thumb drawing small circles of reassurance and love against her palm.

“Yeah…” She raised her head and met his brilliant smile, the concern in his eyes. “I think until now I thought visiting his grave might seem like accepting his death, or giving up on Raptor. And I just couldn’t. Not until I’d proven what they were doing.”

“You did good. Luke would be happy.” His touch was electricity against her skin.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” His voice was gentle.

“I still miss him. He used to call me on the weekends and tell me off for working.” She gave a small laugh. “And I used to call him and tell him off for not eating properly.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “At least now he can rest in peace.”

She laid her head on Griff’s shoulder.

The exposé article she’d published after those terrible hours in the Alaskan wilderness had been life changing—the truth splashed across headlines worldwide. The tabloids couldn’t get enough of it and she’d had no problems selling the rights to her book detailing events. She hoped the book would provide Ty and Sophie with permanent closure. One she knew their protective son Wyatt would ensure was never broken.

“You okay?” Griff’s quiet voice pierced her reverie.

She pushed back her shoulders, smiled at Griff. “Yeah. I really am.” Regret still stung her over Horton. Grief had consumed him and warped his actions. It saddened her that he hadn’t found peace, that he’d fallen to his death, still hurting from his loss. She, of all people, could understand how that had shaped him and driven him to do things he might never normally have considered.

Rain pattered on the sleeve of her raincoat. She tightened her belt and allowed Griff to shield her with his body. Nothing had ever felt more right than being with this man. She allowed herself to lean into him. Being with him made dealing with her pain and anguish easier, allowing her to process her grief and find a way forward to a fresh start.

“I was so stuck. I couldn’t imagine what it would mean to stop and acknowledge his death. Hunting down Pharmasyn gave me something to focus on, but it also stopped me from grieving. From letting Luke go. I think deep down I thought if I let him go, I’d lose him.” She exhaled, a tremble in her breath as there always was when she faced the truth.

Griff splayed the width of his hand across her heart. “He will always be here.”

She covered his hand with hers. “Yes…”

“If we’re lucky enough to have children…I’ll tell them of their brave uncle who gave his life, hoping to help others.”

“Children?” Her breath hitched. Having a family, creating a home, living a good life with a man she loved—these were the things she never dreamed she’d have.

His gaze met hers, softened. “We have all the time in the world.” He cupped her cheek. “I have a few things to show you first.”

“Oh, really.” She was so easy. Just the way he spoke to her made her unravel, made her underwear dampen.

He nuzzled the delicate skin just under her ear. “Hmmm. All the ways I love you, Joanna Smith. One kiss. One touch at a time.”

His possessive touch seared her skin, marking her. A proof of bond no one could see but was there, nonetheless. He was hers and she was his. Always. He bumped his nose against hers before kissing her, catching her lower lip in a teasing promise.

She caught his shirt lapels and breathed in his scent of man and trees. She could never get enough of him. “You’re wet through.”

“So are you. We should head home before you catch a cold. Get you out of these wet things.” His voice roughened.

She clung to him, where she belonged, a smile of happiness on her lips. “Take me home.”

49

Three months later

Griff walked up the driveway to the imposing building, the crunch of smooth shingle under his feet, flowers in his hand. The sandstone was creamy, polished and perfect. He was alone. He’d left Jo at the hotel resting, jet-lagged after their trans-Atlantic flight. That had suited him just fine. This was something he had to do on his own.

Nothing to see here. Just an enormous brick building. Greenglades. The name was familiar. Bills had come, like clockwork, year after year, a relentless reminder.

He wiped his hands on his pants leg. There was no rational reason for his heart to be racing, the sweat dotting his skin. No fucking reason at all. It would be so easy to turn around now. To just walk away and forget he’d ever been here. To forget the place even existed. But if Jo had shown him one thing, it was facing your fears diminished their power, running allowed them to consume you.

He climbed the steps and pushed through the heavy glass doors into the sunny lobby. Comfy chairs were arranged invitingly around a fireplace. Griff’s grip creaked on the bouquet as he approached the desk. You can do this. He forced himself to relax and scribbled his name in the visitor’s book, then followed a nurse in rubber-soled shoes down a gleaming corridor scented with lemon polish. The nurse rapped softly on an unassuming white paneled door, then with a smile, she stepped aside for him to enter.

Bright sunlight spilled across a simply furnished room smelling faintly of talc. Commentary from a baseball game burbled from a small radio on the bedside table. Griff placed the flowers in the empty vase on the small dresser and pulled a chair over to the bedside.

He gripped a small wizened hand in his. There were some things he needed to say. He took a breath and pushed steel into his spine. “Hi Dad.”