Читать книгу Forever an Eaton - Rochelle Alers - Страница 15

Chapter 4

“How is she getting along, Dad?” Griffin asked his father when he joined him at the picture window in the living room of the spacious apartment in Spring Garden, a neighborhood that had been completely transformed by gentrification. The nighttime view from the high-rise was spectacular.

He knew exactly what he’d look like in twenty years. An inch shy of the six-foot mark, sixty-two-year-old Lucas Rice claimed a ramrod-straight back, slender physique and a full head of shimmering silver hair. Balanced features, a cleft chin and a sensual smile drew women of all ages to him like sunflowers facing the sun. His looks and charisma posed a problem for his wives because women loved Lucas, and he in turn loved them back.

Nevertheless, Grant’s death had humbled Lucas, making him aware of his own mortality. In his shared grief with Gloria and his surviving son, he’d confessed his many transgressions. It hadn’t made it any easier for Griffin to hear about the number of women his father had slept with while still married to his mother, but he realized how much strength it took for Lucas to confess.

The confession signaled a turning point for everyone—especially Gloria. Surprisingly, she forgave her ex-husband, saying they’d married much too young and for the wrong reason. They’d met in college where Gloria was a library science major and Lucas was pre-med. Gloria discovered halfway through her sophomore year that she was pregnant. And instead of going to medical school, Lucas married his pregnant girlfriend and switched his major to pharmacology. Most of their marital strife was the result of Lucas not fulfilling his dream of becoming a doctor.

Lucas stole a glance at his son’s profile. “She’s pretty good during the day, but I found that she’s a wreck at night.”

Shifting slightly, Griffin turned to give Lucas an incredible stare. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been checking up on her since we...we lost Grant. We talk every day, and several nights each week we have dinner—either here, at my place, or at a restaurant. I always call her to say good-night, but that’s when I lose it, son.”

A slight frown furrowed Griffin’s smooth forehead. “Why, Dad?”

Lucas closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily. “The sound of her crying rips my heart out. I know she used to cry whenever we had an argument, but this time it’s different.”

“She’s still grieving. We’re all still grieving.”

“Not like your mother, Griffin. That’s why I suggested taking the cruise. I know I can’t go back forty years and right all the wrongs, but I promised myself that I would spend what’s left of my life making your mother happy.”

“Do you love her, Dad?”

A sad smile crinkled the skin around Lucas’s eyes. “I’ve always loved her and I will always love her.”

“What about your other women?”

“There are no other women, and there hasn’t been one in a long time.”

Griffin chose his words carefully. “Is it because you’re trying to insinuate yourself back into my mother’s life?”

Lucas shook his head. “Don’t worry, son. I won’t hurt her.”

“I’m not worried, Dad. You will be sorry if you hurt her again.”

Lucas met Griffin’s withering gaze, knowing he wasn’t issuing an idle threat. He hadn’t stayed to see Griffin grow to adulthood, but he was proud of how he’d turned out nevertheless. He was proud of both of his sons, and had never hesitated to give Gloria all the credit for their successes.

“Glo has been hurt enough. I’d rather walk away than cause her more pain.”

Griffin smiled. It’d been a long time since he’d heard his father shorten his mother’s name. Reaching into the pocket of his slacks, he took out a small envelope, slipping it into Lucas’s shirt pocket. “There’s enough on that gift card to buy something nice in Florence or Rome for your cabin mate.”

Lucas took the envelope, staring numbly at the value of the gift card. It was half of what he’d paid for two first-class tickets for the month-long European cruise. “I can’t take this, Griffin.”

“You can and you will, otherwise I’ll give it to Mom, and you know she’ll buy gifts for everyone but herself.”

A smile flashed across the older man’s face. “You’re right about that. I want to bring something back for the twins. Do you have an idea of what they’d like?”

Griffin pondered his father’s question for several minutes. “I believe Layla would love a Venetian Carnevale mask, the kind revelers wear. Sabrina likes fashion, so anything from Rome or Paris will make her very happy.”

“What about Belinda?”

“What about her, Dad?”

“What do you think she’d like?”

Lucas mentioning Belinda’s name quickened Griffin’s pulse, as images of the kiss they’d shared came back with the force and fury of rushing rapids. He’d kissed her to see if she was actually a prude even after she’d disclosed that she was seeing someone. He hadn’t believed her. He’d discovered there was indeed fire under her staid exterior. The revelation had not only shocked him, but also made him jealous of the man who was on the receiving end of Belinda Eaton’s passion.

“Perfume.” He’d said the first thing that came to mind because he loved the way she smelled.

“What fragrance does she wear?”

“I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” asked Gloria Rice as she walked into the living room carrying a tray with dessert plates of tiny butter cookies and petits fours.

Griffin walked over and took the tray from his mother. She looked better than she had in months, and he attributed that to the anticipation of going away for a month with the man who’d been and apparently still was the only one she’d ever loved.

In preparation for her trip, she’d had her hair cut into a close-cropped natural that showed off her delicate features and flawless chestnut-brown skin. Her dark almond-shaped eyes made her look as if she were perpetually smiling.

When she’d been informed of her son and daughter-in-law’s death Gloria had stopped eating. It was only after Griffin threatened to have her force-fed that she had begun eating again, and then only small portions but enough to keep up her strength.

Now that Lucas had come back into her life, she’d managed to regain some of the weight she’d lost. When he’d asked his mother whether she was sleeping with her ex-husband, Gloria had come out with an unequivocal “no.” She claimed all Lucas was good for was companionship.

“Do you know what perfume Belinda wears?”

“Yes. It’s Dior’s J’adore. Why do you want to know?”

“Dad’s putting together a list of souvenirs he wants to bring back.”

“I’m done with my list.” She smiled at Lucas. “Please bring in the coffee. It should be finished brewing.”

Reaching for Gloria’s hand, Griffin seated her on her favorite chair. He sat on the matching ottoman, cradling her feet in his lap. “If you come back from Europe carrying my little sister or brother,” he teased quietly, “I’m going to give Dad a serious beat down.”

Throwing back her head, Gloria laughed until tears rolled down her face. “You don’t have worry about beating up your father because it’s not going to happen.” Gloria sobered. “Speaking of children, Griffin.”

“What about them, Mom?”

“I know you’ve adopted Grant’s children, but do you see yourself having children of your own?”

There came a long silence as he pondered her question. “If I were to be completely honest I’d say I don’t know. Playing daddy is still too new for me to make a decision. But I must admit I’m enjoying what little I’ve experienced.”

“How are you getting along with Belinda?”

“We’re doing okay. It’s obvious she’s going to be the stricter parent, while I’ll probably let the girls do whatever they want—except when it comes to boys. If it were up to me they wouldn’t have a boyfriend until they graduate from high school.”

Gloria shook her head. “That’s unrealistic. Your father was my first boyfriend and you see how that ended. My granddaughters should have boys as friends so they learn to differentiate between the good guys and the ones who only want to sleep with them.” She paused, seemingly deep in thought. “I believe if I’d had a daughter, Lucas wouldn’t have been such a philanderer.”

Griffin wanted to tell Gloria that she was wrong. Lucas would’ve cheated on her if they’d had a dozen daughters. Unfortunately, it’d taken a catastrophic incident to bring Lucas Rice to the realization that he’d misused and mistreated the best woman he’d ever had and would ever hope to have. Perhaps, he mused, it wasn’t too late for his parents to start over.

* * *

Layla and Sabrina were waiting on the front porch for Griffin when he maneuvered his SUV into the driveway and parked behind their aunt’s Volvo. They were bundled in down-filled jackets, bracing against the rapid twenty-point decline in the temperature. The past week the weather had challenged the late-March season, and won.

He smiled as he got out of his car. Maybe it was the profusion of hair flowing down and around their shoulders that made them appear older, as if they’d become young adults virtually overnight.

He wasn’t disappointed when they raced off the porch to launch themselves at him. The spontaneity reminded Griffin they were still young, and as they’d done when they were children, they wanted him to catch them in midair.

“Whoa!” he cried out when he collapsed to the floor of the porch under their weight.

The front door opened and he looked up to find Belinda smiling down at him as Sabrina and Layla held him down while pinning him with what they thought were wrestling holds. Lamps flanking the door flattered her slender body in a pair of fitted jeans she’d paired with a chunky pullover. She’d also changed her hairstyle. Instead of the usual curly look it was smooth, the feathered ends curving under her chin and down around the nape of her neck.

“Do you give up?” Layla shouted, tightening her headlock.

“Yes!”

“Count him out, Aunt Lindy!” Sabrina said excitedly.

Playing along with her nieces, Belinda went to her knees and slapped the porch close to Griffin’s head. “One, two, three. You’re out!” The girls released Griffin, falling back and gasping in surprise when he reached for their aunt, pinning her under his body.

Burying his face against the column of her scented neck, he pressed his mouth to the silken flesh. “Come with us this weekend,” he whispered near her ear.

Belinda swallowed a moan. There was no way she could ignore the hard body molded to hers, the solid pressure of bulging muscle between Griffin’s thighs. She closed her eyes when a gush of moisture bathed the area between her legs.

“I... I can’t.” She could hardly get the words out.

“If you give her a headlock she’ll give up, Uncle Griff,” Layla suggested.

Griffin eased his arm under Belinda’s neck. “Give up, baby,” he crooned for her ears only. “Are you coming with us?” he asked loud enough for his nieces to overhear his entreaty.

“No-o-o-o!”

Sabrina went to her knees. “Please, Aunt Lindy. Please come with us. Uncle Griff said we were going to have a movie night.”

“Pul-eeese,” Layla moaned melodramatically.

Belinda closed her eyes. Oh no! a silent voice shouted when Griffin ground his groin against hers. She couldn’t believe what he was doing to her—in front of their nieces no less. If she didn’t stop him, then she was going to embarrass herself. Her long-celibate body indicated that she was on the brink of climaxing.

“Okay. I’ll go.”

“Pinky swear?” Griffin asked, grinning triumphantly.

She nodded. “Yes. Pinky swear.”

Layla and Sabrina exchanged high fives as they turned to go back into the house to retrieve their overnight bags. They’d spent most of the afternoon exchanging text messages with their uncle to enlist his help in getting their aunt to join them for the weekend after she revealed she hadn’t planned to do anything but read and watch DVDs.

As soon as the door banged behind them, Belinda said between clenched teeth, “Get the hell off me!”

Griffin eased up, but not enough for Belinda to escape. He didn’t want to stand up until his erection went down. He hadn’t expected his body to betray him, nor had he expected Belinda’s response.

“Watch your language, baby. You don’t want our children to grow up using foul language.”

“They’ve heard worse,” she said flippantly, “and no doubt from their classmates.”

“I know you hear it at the high school, but I’d prefer that Sabrina and Layla not hear it at home.”

Belinda affected a facetious smile. “Please let me up, Griffin.”

He smiled. “That’s better, darling.”

Waiting until Griffin moved off her and helped her to her feet, Belinda caught the front of his sweatshirt. Standing on tiptoe, she thrust her face close to his. “If you ever hump me in front of the girls again I’ll hurt you, Griffin Rice.”

Griffin winked at her. “Would you prefer that I hump you in private? I know I don’t appeal to you, but your body is saying something else.”

Her fist tightened. “What exactly is my body saying?”

“That regardless of how we may feel about each other, our bodies are in agreement.” He leaned in closer. “I could smell sex coming from your pores.”

Belinda let her hand fall at the same time her jaw dropped. “How dare you! Your arrogance just supplanted whatever common sense—”

“Cut the act, Belinda!” Griffin said angrily, cutting off her tirade. “It’s only a normal reaction between a man and woman, so don’t confuse sex and desire with love. I’m not in love with you, and I doubt whether you’ll ever be in love with me. Circumstances beyond our control have forced us into a situation we never would’ve or could’ve imagined. I didn’t ask to be a father but I intend to make the best of it, and if that means making sacrifices to keep my vow to my dead brother then I will.”

“Pray tell, Griffin, just what are you sacrificing?”

The seconds ticked off as he stared at the woman who intrigued him more than he wanted. The sexy godmother who made him want her when everything said that she was so wrong for him.

“Having a normal relationship with a woman.”

“Don’t you mean sleeping with other women?”

“That, too.”

“My heart bleeds for you, Griffin. If you think I’m going to become a replacement for your other women, then think again, mister. I don’t play house.”

His eyebrows flickered. “Do you play at all?”

“Yes,” she retorted. “What I do play is for keeps.”

“If you play for keeps, then where is your so-called boyfriend?”

Oh, you’re trying to be slick and get into my business, Belinda mused. “You’ll get to meet Raymond when he comes up from Florida this summer.”

“Why do I have to wait for the summer?”

“That’s when he’ll be able to get away.”

“Don’t you mean that’s when he’ll be paroled?”

“Oh, no you didn’t!”

“Yes, I did, Belinda. Is your Raymond in a Florida jail? I’m asking because I don’t want that type of element around my daughters.”

“Why are they always your daughters, Griffin?” Belinda shot back, the timbre of her voice escalating along with her temper. “Aren’t they also my children?”

“I thought we now belong to both of you.”

Belinda and Griffin spun around. They hadn’t heard Sabrina when she’d come out of the house. They were so busy going at each other that they hadn’t realized they weren’t alone.

Belinda went over to hug her. “Of course you belong to both of us. You and Layla are my daughters.”

“What about Uncle Griff?”

“You’re his daughter, too.”

“If that’s true, then why were you fighting?”

“We weren’t fighting, sweetheart.”

“It sounded to me as if you were fighting.”

Belinda met Griffin’s knowing gaze over Sabrina’s head. As new parents they’d made an unforgivable faux pas—argue in front of their children. “There’re times when adults don’t agree with something, so it may sound as if we’re arguing. Your uncle and I love you and your sister. We made a promise to take care of you and make certain you’re safe. I’m going to ask you and Layla to be patient with us because we’re newbies playing mom and dad.”

Sabrina smiled. “You already sound like a mom even though Uncle Griff needs more practice at being a daddy.”

“Well, excuse me,” Griffin drawled. “What do I have to do to sound like a daddy?”

“First of all you have to learn to say ‘that’s enough, young lady.’”

Griffin forced back a smile. He’d lost count of the number of times Grant had issued his favorite warning. “What else?”

Sabrina narrowed her gaze. “There’s ‘did you do what your mother told you to do?’”

Belinda pressed her palms together. “I like that one.”

“You would,” Griffin mumbled under his breath.

Layla, carrying a large quilted tote, joined them on the porch, frowning. “Aunt Lindy, I thought you were coming with us.”

“I am. I just have to put a few things in a bag. Don’t leave without me.”

“We won’t” came three voices.