I’d recently taken over as manager for The General Store. It meant that I not only ran the kitchen but the rest of the grocery, as well. It was a lot more responsibility and hours, but it also meant a bit of a pay raise. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t enough to cover both my increased rent and Mia’s gymnastics. Not even close. “The job’s good. You know me, I just lose myself in another world sometimes.”

Kenna and Bell shared a worried look that had me biting back a curse. “I swear, I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Bell started. “Ford and I wanted to know what night would be good to take the kids to Rocco’s.”

I knew both Bell and Kenna adored my siblings, but I also knew they tried to take them off my hands once a week so I had a night to breathe. They hoped I’d used the time to do something for myself, but I typically used it to catch up on whatever I’d fallen behind on during the week—laundry, meal prep, bills. It wasn’t exactly a glamorous life, but it was rewarding in many ways. “I think Thursday would be good.”

“That should work for us. I’ll make sure Ford has someone to cover at the bar.”

“Sounds good to me.” I plated the sandwich for Bell and then lifted both meals onto the counter. “Lunch is served. Can I get you guys drinks?”

“I’ll take an iced tea,” Bell answered.

“Just water,” Kenna grimaced.

Her pout had me grinning. “Coming right up.” I grabbed two bottles from the drinks fridge and passed them to my friends. “Here you go. I’ll be right back. I need to make sure no one’s ready to check out up front.”

Kenna waved me away. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll just be here stuffing our faces.”

I chuckled and wove my way through the aisles, greeting a couple who looked to be tourists and telling them to flag me down when they were ready to check out. I rounded another corner and almost collided with a hulking form. “Oh, schnitzel! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going and—” My words cut off as my gaze met ice-blue eyes. “Griffin.” His name came out a bit breathy.

I cleared my throat. “Did you need to check out?” I glanced in his basket and frowned. A stack of frozen meals—like always. “You really should mix in some fresh produce with those.”

He grunted. “Been eating the same thing for years, haven’t died yet.”

The voice was exactly what you’d expect from a man with a six-foot-six frame and shoulders so broad, I was surprised he fit through most doorways. It was low and rough, and made me want to lean in a little closer, even though everything about Griffin screamed: “Go away!”