Forever an Eaton: Bittersweet Love

“Neither.”

“Then what am I?”

“I’m someone who’s concerned about you. You’d fallen asleep less than half an hour into the movie. I know you’re exhausted. You no longer cook, clean, wash and iron for one, but three. Layla told me you spent more than an hour folding laundry.”

A scowl settled into Belinda’s features. “You have the girls spying on me?”

“No, Belinda. I only asked them how their week went and both were only too willing to tell me. The reason I want to take you out is to give you a break. It can be one night a week. We can leave Layla and Sabrina at your parents’ or with my mother when she comes back. You can let me know in advance what you want to do or where you’d like to eat and I’ll make it happen.”

Belinda’s expression brightened. “If all you want to do is to take me out to dinner, then that means that I don’t have to give up Raymond.”

“It doesn’t matter because I get to see his woman a lot more than he does.”

The slow, sexy smile that never failed to make women sit up and take notice of Griffin Rice spread over his face as he moved over Belinda, supporting his weight on his elbows.

Belinda’s breasts felt heavy, her nipples swelling as she leaned into the solid wall of his chest. For years she’d watched Griffin with other women, wondering why, other than his gorgeous face, they chased him and now she knew. He was inherently masculine and sexy, and it didn’t matter that she was another in a long line of women who would get to sample what the celebrity lawyer was offering. She opened her mouth to his kiss, drowning in the sexual heat, succumbing to the sensual spell that made her feel as if she and the man holding her to his heart were the last two people on earth.

Griffin’s heart slammed against his ribs when he showered kisses around Belinda’s lips and along her jaw. Lowering his head, he fastened his mouth along the column of her velvety, scented neck, nipping, suckling, licking her as if she were a frothy confection.

“You taste and smell so good,” he mumbled over and over.

Baring her throat, Belinda closed her eyes. She wanted to tell Griffin that he felt and smelled good, too, but the words were locked in her throat when a longing she’d never known seized her mind and body, refusing to let her go.

Without warning the spell shattered when his hands moved under her pajama top and cupped her breasts. “Griffin, no! We can’t!”

“I know, baby,” he gasped near her ear. He couldn’t make love to Belinda while the girls were in the house, and not when he couldn’t protect her against an unplanned pregnancy.

Her breathing coming in uneven pants, Belinda moaned softly. “Go to bed, Griffin.”

He smiled. “I’m already in bed.”

“Your bed,” she ordered softly. “Good night, Griffin.”

Burying his face between Belinda’s breasts, Griffin closed his eyes. He didn’t want to let her go, but he had to. Reluctantly, he moved off the bed. “Good night, Belinda.”

It took a long time after Griffin left her bedroom for Belinda to fall asleep. The thrumming in the lower part of her body had become a reminder of what she’d missed and needed.

Chapter 6

“I’ll take both of them.”

Belinda turned on her heel, walking out of the room to wait on the Sandersons’ back porch. She had to get away from Griffin or say something she would regret for the rest of her life.

Griffin had called his neighbor and set up an appointment to see the puppies. He’d told his nieces that they were going shopping after eating out at a local diner. But they were totally unaware that going shopping meant looking for a dog.

The remaining three-month-old Yorkies, both males, were spirited, friendly and adorable. The only question was which one Sabrina and Layla would choose. Belinda realized the quandary when each girl picked up a puppy, cradled it to her chest and then refused to relinquish them when Griffin told them to pick one. He’d become a victim of his own negotiating skills when each girl pleaded her case as to why they didn’t want to share one dog.

“I think your wife is a little upset,” Nicole Sanderson said in a quiet voice to Griffin. “Why don’t you go and see what’s wrong.”

Nicole was pleasantly surprised when Griffin Rice followed through on his promise to set up an appointment to look at the puppies. She, however, was more than surprised when he revealed that he was also coming with his wife and daughters. Paoli was a small town, with a population of fifty-four hundred, and it was inevitable that most residents’ paths would occasionally cross in the friendly, close-knit community. When Griffin Rice purchased a home in Paoli nearly eight years before, the town’s grapevine hummed with the news that they had a celebrity living among them.

“I’ll be right back,” Griffin said to the woman who was looking forward to selling her last two purebred Yorkshire terriers. Opening the door, he saw Belinda with her back to him.

“Lindy, baby.”

“Don’t you dare say a mumbling word to me, Griffin Rice!” With wide eyes, she rounded on him. “Don’t call me Lindy, and I’m not your baby.”

Griffin didn’t understand what’d set her off. She’d agreed to their nieces having a dog, so what could be so wrong with them having one more? “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Belinda repeated, approaching him. When she closed her eyes the tips of her lashes touched her cheekbones, and when they opened again the dark orbs were awash with moisture. “Marriages fail because couples don’t communicate. They argue about money, child rearing and lack of affection but not necessarily in that order. We are not communicating, Griffin, and we aren’t even married. I agreed to one puppy. How on earth did it become two?”

Griffin resisted the urge to pull Belinda in his arms. “Didn’t you hear what Layla and Sabrina said? They said this is the first time in their lives they’re not treated as if they’re joined at the hip. You’re the only one who doesn’t refer to them as the twins, or who bought them matching outfits. They had to wait twelve years to get their own rooms, where they won’t grow up as copies of each other. You relate to them as freethinkers, individuals, and that’s what they’ve become. Sabrina doesn’t want to share her puppy with Layla and vice versa.”

“Two puppies translate into twice the mess.”

Taking a step, Griffin rested a hand on the nape of Belinda’s neck. “A mess you won’t have to deal with. Each girl will be responsible for her own puppy. Not having to share will eliminate arguments as to whose week it is to clean the crate.”

Belinda tried ignoring the subtle, seductive fragrance of Griffin’s aftershave—but failed. “Why do you insist on complicating my life?”

“How am I doing that?”

“Instead of looking after one puppy when our daughters are away on their class trip, I’ll have to look after two.”

Griffin brushed a light kiss over her parted lips. “Remember, Lindy, you’re not in this alone. I’ll help you.”

“When? Don’t you have a company to run?”

He nodded. “A business I’m currently downsizing from six to two. I’ve already begun moving files from the Philly office to Paoli. I’m putting my marketing manager on retainer, and I expect to hire a retired paralegal who wants to come on board part-time, which fits perfectly into my business strategy. She’ll be responsible for typing contracts and filing court documents.”

“You’re moving your office.” The question was a statement.

“Yes. That’s why I built the addition onto the house. To be honest, I should’ve done it years ago. The money I’ve spent renting a suite of offices in downtown Philly could’ve fed every child in a small African country for at least a year.”

“Where are you going to conduct your meetings?”

“In whatever city the team owners’ call home. If it’s local, then I’ll reserve a room at a restaurant with good food and service, or a hotel suite.”

The seconds ticked off as Belinda and Griffin stared at each other. He hadn’t shaved, and the stubble on his lean jaw enhanced rather than detracted from his classic good looks. Dressed in an olive-green barn jacket, jeans, black crewneck sweater and matching low-heeled leather boots he reminded her of a Ralph Lauren ad.

“When did you decide all this?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“It was the day I went to clean out Grant’s office—something I’d avoided doing for weeks—because I didn’t want to admit to myself that my brother had been right when he said that the price of success is grossly overrated.

“As I stood in his twentieth-floor corner office overlooking downtown Philadelphia I could hear a voice in my head. At first I thought it was my imagination, but it wasn’t because I was reliving the one time I saw my brother drunk. He’d just gotten a promotion and a coveted corner office. I’ll never forget his face when he stared at me, then said, ‘Success don’t mean shit when you look at what you have to sacrifice in order to achieve it.’ At first I thought he was just being maudlin until he talked about how he was able to remember everything about his clients’ stock portfolios but he couldn’t remember his wife’s birthday or their wedding anniversary. He talked about the meetings and business trips that took him away from home where invariably he’d miss a recital or his daughters’ school plays. For Grant, making it had become all-consuming. I suppose it had something to do with proving to your parents that Donna hadn’t made a mistake when she agreed to marry him.”

“My parents were never against your brother marrying my sister,” Belinda said, defensively.

“I didn’t understand how Grant felt until I met your family for the first time. My first impression was that the Eatons were snobs. You come from generations of teachers, doctors and lawyers, while my mother and father were the first in their family to graduate from college. Grant had less than a month before he would get his degree and he still hadn’t heard from any of his prospective employers when your father took him aside and said that if he ever needed money to take care of his daughter or grandchildren then he shouldn’t hesitate to come to him. His offer cut Grant to the quick, but he smiled at Dr. Eaton and said that he wouldn’t have married his daughter if he hadn’t been able to support her.