Bittersweet Love

“Does that surprise you, Griffin?” she asked, answering his question with one of her own.

Belinda’s revelation that she was involved with a man came as a shock to Griffin. He never saw her with a man, so he’d assumed that she spent her nights at home—alone. “I hope you’re not going to schedule sleep-overs with your man now that the girls are living with you. It wouldn’t set a good example—”

“He’ll only come when the girls stay at your place,” she interrupted.

Griffin didn’t know where he’d gotten the notion that Belinda wasn’t seeing anyone. Although he would never admit to her that he was attracted to her in that way, it didn’t mean that other men weren’t. Earlier, he’d sat watching Jonathan Connelly unable to take his eyes off her. And Griffin didn’t blame the man because Belinda Eaton was stunning.

If she hadn’t been so unapproachable he would’ve considered asking her out. Even when they’d come together as best man and maid of honor for the wedding of their respective siblings, he’d thought her shy and reticent. But then he hadn’t expected more from a nineteen-year-old college student who’d lived on campus her first semester, then without warning moved back home, driving more than thirty miles each day to attend classes. When asked why she’d opted not to stay on campus, her response was as enigmatic as the woman she’d become.

Griffin remembered why he’d come to Belinda’s house. “May I see the girls?”

“I’m sorry. They’ve already gone to bed.”

He glanced at the clock on the table filled with potted plants. “It’s only nine-fifteen. Isn’t that a little early?”

“No, it isn’t, Griffin. My mother had a problem with getting them up on school days, so I’ve instituted a nine o’clock curfew Sunday through Thursday and eleven on Fridays and Saturdays.”

“That sounds a little strict, Belinda.”

“Children need structure.”

“Structure is one thing and being on lockdown is another.”

Belinda walked around Griffin and opened the door wider. “I don’t want to be rude, but you really need to go home, Griffin. I’m going to be up late grading papers, and hopefully I’ll be able to get a few hours of sleep before I have to get up earlier than usual to drive the girls to school. I need to stop in the school office to update their emergency contact numbers and bus route.”

After seeing that Layla and Sabrina had completed their homework, she’d eaten leftovers, applied a facial masque and sat in a tub of warm water waiting for it to set. By the time she’d emerged from the bathroom the girls had come to kiss her good-night. They’d gone to bed, while she would probably be up well past midnight.

Griffin heard something in Belinda’s voice that he’d never recognized before: defeat. Although they shared custody of their nieces, it was Belinda who’d assumed most of the responsibility for caring for them five of the seven days a week. And for the weeks when he had to travel on business, it would be the entire week.

“What time do your classes begin?”

“Eight. But I have a sub filling in for me.”

Griffin knew he had to help Belinda or she would find herself in over her head. It was one thing to raise a child from infancy and another thing completely when you found yourself having to deal with not one but two teenagers with very strong personalities.

“Let me help you out.”

Belinda stared at the man standing in her entryway as if he were a stranger. “You want to help me.”

Slipping his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers, Griffin angled his head. “Yes. I’ll take the girls to school and take care of the paperwork. That way you don’t have to have to miss your classes.”

“It’s too late to cancel the substitute.”

Attractive lines fanned out around his eyes when he gave her a warm smile. “Use the extra time to sleep in late.”

His smile was contagious as Belinda returned it with one of her own. “It sounds good, but I still have to get up and prepare breakfast.”

“Can’t they get breakfast at school?”

“Donna wouldn’t let them eat school breakfast because they weren’t eating enough fiber.”

“I’ll fix breakfast for them,” Griffin volunteered.

“It can’t be fast food.”

He winked at her. “I didn’t know you were a comedian. Why would I give them a fast-food breakfast when it has a higher caloric content and more preservatives than some cafeteria food? I’ll cook breakfast for them.”

Belinda hesitated, processing what she’d just heard. “You’re going to come here from Paoli tomorrow morning in time to make breakfast and take the girls to school?” The ongoing family joke was that Griffin Rice would be late for his own funeral.

“Yes.”

Belinda waved a hand. “Forget it, Griffin. I’ll get up and make breakfast and take them to school.”

“You doubt whether I’ll be here on time?”

She leaned closer. “I know you won’t make it.”

The warmth and the subtle scent of lavender on Belinda’s bared flesh wafted in Griffin’s nostrils, making him more than aware of her blatant femininity. For years he’d told himself that he didn’t like his sister-in-law because she was a snob—that her attitude was that she was too good for him because she came from a more prestigious family.

But in the past four months he saw another side of Belinda Eaton that hadn’t been apparent in the dozen years since they first met. Not only was she generous, but also selfless in her attempt to become a surrogate mother for her sister’s children. She had reconfigured the design of her house to accommodate the teenage girls. He hadn’t known she had a man in her life, and apparently that relationship would also change now that Layla and Sabrina were living with her.

“I’ll make it if I stay over.”

“You can’t stay here,” Belinda said quickly. “Have you forgotten that I no longer have an extra bedroom?”

She’d turned the master bedroom into the office/entertainment retreat for the twins and added half baths to the two remaining bedrooms. There was still a full bathroom on the second floor and a half bath off the kitchen, but with three females living under one roof everyone needed a bathroom to call their own.

Griffin affected a Cheshire cat grin. “I can always sleep with you.”

Belinda stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You’re crazy as hell if you think I’m going to let you sleep in my bed with me.”

“And why not?” he asked quietly. “Aren’t we family, Aunt Lindy?”

“First of all I’m not your aunt. And secondly, you and I don’t share blood, therefore we’re not family. If you want to stay over then you’re going to have to sleep in the living room on the sofa. It converts to a queen-size bed and the mattress is very comfortable.”

“How would you know it’s comfortable?”

“I slept on it before my bedroom was completed.” Although she’d moved her bedroom from the second to the first floor she liked her new space because it was larger, airy and filled with an abundance of light during daytime hours.

Griffin nodded. “I’ll take your word that it’s comfortable, but if I wake up with a bad back then I’m going to hold you responsible for my medical expenses.”

“You won’t need a chiropractor after I walk on your back,” Belinda countered confidently. “My feet and toes are magical.”

He glanced down at her slender pedicured feet in a pair of thong slippers. Her feet were like the rest of her body—perfect. Belinda Eaton was physically perfect, yet so untouchable. He wondered about the man who’d managed to get next to her. There was no doubt he was nothing less than Mister Perfect himself.

“We’ll see,” he replied noncommittally. “I’m going to head out to Paoli, get a few things. Are you sure you’ll be up when I get back?”

“I have an extra set of keys you can use.”