Expecting to be hurt at any moment.
He groaned and rubbed his face in frustration, nearly knocking his glasses off his face. What the devil was he going to do to prove to her that he loved her? To make her feel safe and comfortable with him?
He’d told Maylee that he loved her a dozen times a day.
She’d never once said it back. He kept waiting and hoping that she’d relax, become more at ease around him, and then she’d realize that she felt as strongly for him as he did for her. But holding back her “I love you” seemed to be some sort of armor for her. That as long as she didn’t expose herself fully, she could still escape him unscathed.
He wasn’t planning on letting her go, though.
Frustrated, he listened to Maylee putter around in the kitchen. He went in and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m going to finish my studies.”
“All right,” she said, and her voice was a little too bright again. “I’m going to straighten up in here.”
He retreated back to his office, and instead of heading for his books, he picked up his phone. He stared at the screen for a moment, thinking. He could call Hunter and ask for advice, but Hunter had that beast of a woman, Gretchen. He wouldn’t know the first thing about dealing with a heart as sensitive and delicate as Maylee’s. He needed a gentle hand.
So he called Cade, but it went to voicemail. Damn. He didn’t want to leave a lovesick message, so he tried Jonathan next.
You there? Jonathan almost never answered calls, but was an unfailing texter.
Here, came the response a moment later. What’s up?
You back in NYC?
No, headed out. Had some stuff to take care of.
Griffin thought for a moment. I need . . . advice. About a woman.
Oh, Jesus.
Piss off.
Is this about that bouncy little blonde that was with you in Spain? She was cute as a button. And it was clear she was into you.
For some reason, that made Griffin feel better. Was it?
Oh, yeah. Kept staring at you every time you spoke like you were shitting nuggets of gold.
Griffin’s mouth twitched with amusement. Her name is Maylee and I asked her to move in with me, but she’s not happy.
Why isn’t she happy? She can’t fit her shoes in with all your books? Then, a moment later . . . Why are you having this conversation with me?
I don’t know. Cade isn’t available, Reese is a prat, Hunter is terrible with women, and Logan would just suggest I buy her something.
Did you try buying her something?
She’s not into money.
Christ, how did you find the one girl in NYC who isn’t into your wallet?
That’s besides the point. She’s not happy. She’s trying to be, but I don’t think she trusts me. He thought for a moment, then texted, She left before because she thought I was hiding her because I was embarrassed.
And were you?
Originally? Yes.
Ouch, man.
Piss off. Again. Maybe it had been a bad call to go to Jonathan for advice. But hell, he was desperate. You know I’m not good with this emotion stuff.
Okay, okay. Are you still hiding her?
Of course not. She moved in. Kip thinks she’s very nice.
No one gives a shit what your assistant thinks. I meant, did you introduce her to everyone? Make her feel welcome?
Oh. He hadn’t even thought about it. You mean like Gretchen and Audrey and the others? She asked about my tattoo.
It was a long moment before Jonathan responded. Look, man, I’m not going to tell you not to tell her about the Brotherhood. I could try, but if you’re thinking with your dick like everyone else, I know it’s a lost cause. So you do what you feel is right. I trust you. We all do, or you wouldn’t be in the Brotherhood.
Griffin didn’t know what to say. I . . . see.
And one more thing.
What’s that?
If you’re in love—I mean really, really in love—you gotta move heaven and earth to show her that you love her. Because if you don’t, you’re going to lose her. And then life isn’t worth living. Take it from me, all right?
Griffin frowned at the screen. Jonathan kept himself remote from everyone, even his Brothers. To hear that confession made Griffin wonder what he was hiding. What does that mean? Is that some shoddy clue about a broken heart?
Tell you some other time. Right now, I have a plane to catch.
Later.
He clicked off his phone and thought for a long time. Did Maylee think that he wasn’t taking her seriously? Was it time to do more? Be more demonstrative? He made love to her every night. Told her he loved her several times a day. They went for long walks in Central Park together, holding hands and walking the dog. He’d even let her bring her foul beast to New York City into his book-strewn townhouse. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.