Forever an Eaton: Bittersweet Love

Layla sat up. “Don’t tell him, Aunt Lindy!”

Belinda tickled Griffin’s ribs through his T-shirt. “I’m not telling.”

Griffin caught her fingers. “Don’t do that.”

“Are you ticklish?”

Not releasing her hand, he stared at Belinda for a full minute before lacing their fingers together. “Yes.”

Smiling, she winked at him. “Do you have any other weaknesses I should know about?”

Griffin closed his eyes rather than let Belinda see how much she affected him, how much she’d changed him and his life in less than a few weeks. How could he tell her that he liked her because she was different from the other women he’d been involved with, that he wanted what she gave Raymond—her Sunshine State lover—and like Belinda, if he had to play then he wanted it to be for keeps? Spending a Friday night at home watching movies with Belinda and the girls was the highlight of his week—and something he could very easily get used to.

“That’s it,” he lied smoothly, redirecting his attention to the large plasma screen mounted on the wall. Griffin pretended interest in the movie when it was the woman pressed to his side that he found so intriguing.

* * *

Belinda had just dozed off when she heard the soft knock on the door. Sitting up, she turned on the bedside lamp. “Who is it?”

“It’s Count Dracula, and I’ve come to suck your blood” a deep voice crooned in a perfect Romanian dialect.

Belinda smiled. “Sorry, count, but I’m all out of blood.”

“Curses!” he snarled, this time sounding like a pirate.

“Come in, Griffin.” The door opened and Griffin walked in, wearing a pair of black pajama pants and matching T-shirt.

Friday night at the movies had not only been enjoyable but also enlightening. She had seen another side to Griffin’s personality, the opposite of the aggressive and competitive attorney who’d become notorious for holding out until he got the best deal for his clients. He had a really wicked sense of humor, telling jokes and deliberately flubbing the punch lines. Sabrina and Layla had adored the attention he lavished on them and they, in turn, reciprocated in kind.

“Is movie night over?” She’d found herself dozing off and on until she decided it was time to go to bed, leaving before the end of the film.

Griffin nodded. “When I told the girls they had to brush their teeth before turning in, they said I sounded like Aunt Lindy.”

“Is that a good thing?” she teased, smiling.

“I’d say it is.”

“What are you doing?” she shrieked when he ran and jumped onto the bed, flopping down on the mattress and pressing his back to the headboard.

Crossing his bare feet at the ankles, Griffin gave Belinda a sidelong glance. “I came to talk.” Before settling down to watch the movie, he’d watched as she brushed and pinned Layla’s and Sabrina’s freshly relaxed hair, covering theirs with bandannas before doing her own. Her smooth transition from aunt to surrogate mother was nothing short of amazing.

“What’s so urgent that you can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“What do you think about getting the girls a dog?”

Belinda went completely still. “What kind of dog, Griffin?”

“Don’t worry, Belinda, it won’t be a pit bull or Rottweiler.”

“What kind of dog?” she asked again.

“A Yorkshire terrier. One of my neighbors has a purebred bitch that whelped a litter of pups about three months ago. She’s sold off all but two, and I told her that I would have to talk to you before offering to buy one.”

“A puppy,” she whispered. “You want me to take care of a puppy?”

“Sabrina and Layla will take care of it.”

“I don’t think so, Griffin. You’re fooling yourself if you believe girls their age are going to take care of a dog. I’ll wind up feeding, bathing and walking it. And what’s going to happen when it gnaws on my rugs and furniture?”

Griffin dropped an arm over Belinda’s shoulders, bringing her cheek to his chest. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Please don’t say no until you see them. They’re adorable.”

“I’m certain they’re adorable but—”

“Baby, please,” he crooned softly. “Grant promised the girls they could have a dog.”

Tilting her head, Belinda stared at Griffin looking down at her. The soft glow from the lamp flattered the contours of his lean face. “Donna didn’t say anything to me about getting a dog.”

“Grant wanted to surprise them. I’ll buy the cage, wee-wee pads, food and chew toys. I’ll also commit to covering the vet and grooming expenses, and of course the pooch will need one of those designer puppy carriers that cost an arm and two legs.”

She smiled. “Why does it sound as if you’re running a con on me?”

He returned her smile. “I didn’t mean for it—”

“It’s okay,” she said, cutting him off. “When are we going to look at the puppies?”

Griffin kissed her forehead. “Tomorrow after breakfast.”

“I must have sucker written on my forehead.”

He laughed softly, the warm sound rumbling in his chest. “Why should you be any different from me?”

“Are we really soft, Griffin?”

“No. We’re just two people who want the best for the children we’ve been entrusted to love and protect.”

“You’re right,” Belinda said after a pregnant pause. “I always believed I’d grow up to fall in love, marry and have children of my own. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I’d be raising my sister’s children. What makes it so challenging is that they’re not little kids, but pre-teens who’re beginning to assert their independence. I try and do the best I can, but what frightens me is what will I do or say if, or when, they come out with ‘you can’t tell me what to do because you’re not my mother.’”

“Let’s hope it never happens, but if it does then I’ll step in.”

Belinda tried to sit up, but was thwarted when Griffin held her fast. “You’re not going to hit them.”

He frowned at her. “I’d never hit a child. What I can assure you is that my bark is a great deal louder than yours.”

“I’ll not have you yelling at them.”