Forever an Eaton: Bittersweet Love

“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.”