“Thank you, brother,” Griffin whispered. He had his answer.
Chapter 12
Belinda and Griffin waited in the schoolyard along with other seventh-grade parents for the bus transporting their children from Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
She’d elected to wait in his sport-utility vehicle, reading, while Griffin was engaged in a lively conversation with several men. The topic invariably turned to sports: baseball, football and hockey.
What garnered Belinda’s rapt attention was that several women had drifted over to join the small group of men. They seemed to linger on the periphery until one was bold enough to rest her hand on Griffin’s shoulder.
What the... Belinda caught herself before she screamed out the open window that she could look, but not touch. She sat motionless, watching the woman become more and more brazen until Griffin reached over to remove her hand. Within minutes her hand was back, this time on his back.
* * *
Griffin felt the warmth of the hand pressed to his back, and he curbed the urge to grab her wrist and fling it off. He glared at the woman who’d insisted on crossing his personal boundaries to touch him without permission. Now he understood Belinda’s insistence on it.
What annoyed him was that the others hadn’t invited the petite doll-like woman with a profusion of neatly braided hair flowing down her back to join the conversation. Glancing at her left hand he noticed it was bare. He found her attractive, but whatever she was offering he didn’t want or need. Cupping her elbow, he led her away from the small crowd that was speculating whether the Flyers would make the Stanley Cup finals.
Bending closer to her ear, he affected a tight smile. “See that woman sitting in the white hybrid staring at us?” The woman nodded. “She happens to be my wife. I told her to stay in the car because she didn’t take her medication this morning, and whenever that happens she tends to be a little violent. So I suggest you go back and stand with your friends, because once she goes off I have a hard time trying to control her.”
A pair of round eyes widened with his disclosure. “You mean she’s violent?” He nodded slowly. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
Instead of returning to the men he headed to his vehicle and got in beside Belinda. “Don’t you dare say anything,” he warned, deadpan.
Belinda averted her eyes to conceal the grin stealing its way over her face. “I would’ve helped you out if you didn’t look as if you were enjoying her so much.”
Griffin crossed his arms over his chest. “You did help me out.”
Shifting, she noted his smug expression. “What?” Belinda’s jaw dropped when she listened to Griffin’s explanation for thwarting his admirer. “Medication, Griffin? You told her I was crazy?”
“Aw, baby, don’t take it that way. I had to tell her something or she would’ve come home with us.”
“I don’t think so, love,” Belinda drawled. “She would’ve gone home with you, not us.”
“Four women in my life are enough, thank you.”
A slight frown furrowed her brow. “Who’s the fourth?”
“Gloria Rice.”
Belinda nodded. How could she have forgotten her nieces’ other grandmother? There came a flurry of activity as parents and their children spilled out of vehicles as the tour bus maneuvered into the schoolyard.
Griffin placed his hand on Belinda’s arm. “Wait here. I’ll get their luggage.”
“What’s the matter? You don’t want anyone to see the crazy woman?”
He rolled his eyes at her. “Are you ever going to let me live this down?”
“I’ll think about it,” she teased.
A smile softened her features when she saw Sabrina, followed by Layla step off the bus. They appeared exhausted. Any semblance of a hairstyle was missing from both girls. Sabrina had parted her hair in the middle, but it appeared as if she couldn’t decide whether to braid it or leave it loose. Layla had half a dozen braids, secured with colorful bands, shielding her face, while a thick plait hung down her back. They had two days to recover from their weeklong educational trip before returning to classes. It would become their last extended break until the end of the school term.
Shifting on her seat, Belinda smiled at her nieces when they slipped onto the second row of seats. “Welcome home.”
“Hi, Aunt Lindy,” they mumbled in unison.
“Are you girls hungry?”
Layla closed her eyes. “No, Aunty Lindy. I just want to take a bath and go to bed.”
“Me, too,” Sabrina said around the yawn she concealed behind her hand.
“We’re not going to stop to eat,” Belinda informed Griffin when he slipped behind the wheel. “They’re exhausted.”
Griffin nodded. “Home it is.”
* * *
It took a full day before Sabrina and Layla reverted to their chatty selves. They climbed into bed with Belinda and talked nonstop about the buildings they’d visited in Washington, D.C., the historic preserved city of Williamsburg, Virginia, and Gettysburg National Military Park and Gettysburg National Cemetery.
They listened intently when Belinda related the events of the Battle of Gettysburg. “The battle began on July first and didn’t end until the third of July, eighteen sixty-three. Not only was it one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War, but it was significant because it marked the northernmost point reached by the Confederate army. It also marked the end of rebel supremacy on the battlefield.”
Layla shifted into a more comfortable position as she rested her head on a mound of pillows. “Why was that, Aunt Lindy?”
Belinda smiled at her nieces flanking her. “Confederate General Robert E. Lee had crossed the Mason-Dixon line into Pennsylvania for strategic and logistical reasons. The general was a student of another famous general, Napoleon Bonaparte, who had the audacity to use small forces against larger ones. Now historians differ as to why General Lee ventured into Northern territory. Some say he was foraging for shoes for his troops, while others claim Lee was overconfident because he’d defeated Union General Joseph Hooker at Chancellorsville.”
“Where’s Chancellorsville?” Sabrina asked.
“Virginia,” Belinda said, smiling. Her nieces, who admitted to not liking history, had taken a sudden interest in it as the result of their class trip. “Whatever his reason it spelled ultimate defeat for the rebel forces.”
“Why did the battle last so long?” Sabrina questioned.
“I have a book on Civil War battles you can read.”
Layla made a face. “Aunt Lindy, we don’t have time to read other books. Please tell us.”
Just like they’d done when the girls were much younger and slept over at Belinda’s house, she’d gather them in her bed and tell them stories about the lives of enslaved Africans and free men, the Underground Railroad, the Great Depression and the wars spanning the Revolutionary to Vietnam rather than the ubiquitous fairy tales. It had taken a week for the historical fairy tales to become a reality when they’d come face-to-face with the history of their country.
She told of President Lincoln’s criticism of General Meade who’d chosen not to pursue the defeated Confederates, as he had thought that immediate action would have shortened the war; although the conflict continued for another two years, the Union forces victory at Gettysburg proved to be the turning point in the war, while amassing the most devastating roster of casualties: fifty-one thousand, North and South combined.
When Belinda’s voice faded and she waited for more questions that never came, she realized her nieces had fallen asleep. In the past she would carry each to their beds, but at twelve the girls were two inches shorter than her five-six height and weighed more than one hundred pounds. If Griffin had stayed she would’ve asked him to take them to their bedrooms.
Reaching over Layla, she tur
ned off the lamp and then settled down to join her nieces as they slept soundly. Belinda forced herself not to dwell on sharing a bed with Griffin because whenever she recalled what they’d done to each other her body betrayed her.
A few times she’d asked herself if she’d fallen in love with Griffin after they slept together or if she had had feelings for him before. And the answer was always the same: she’d fallen in love with Griffin Rice when she was still a teenager, that she resented the women in the photographs who clung possessively to his arm because she’d wanted to be them. She’d regarded him as a skirt-chaser because it made him more unappealing.
How could she have been so wrong about a man their nieces adored? Cecil and Nigel, who had been overjoyed when they saw Sabrina and Layla, no longer growled or showed Griffin their tiny teeth. When he had sat on the floor they jumped all over him as he pretended to fight off their attack. The girls had joined the fracas and pandemonium had ensued with barking, screams from the girls and hysterical laughter from Griffin. Strange feelings always arose when she watched him interact with the puppies and his nieces. But it had been in that instant that Belinda knew he would make an incredible father.
* * *
Belinda started up her Volvo and backed it out of the driveway, always mindful of the schoolchildren making their way to bus stops. Sabrina and Layla had walked two blocks to a classmate’s house to wait with her and her younger sister for the bus that stopped on their corner.
Since her nieces had come to live with her, Belinda had begun speaking to many of the mothers who lived in the neighborhood. Some had invited her to come to their homes for coffee, and her nearest neighbor had invited her and Griffin to a dinner party. And, with the warmer weather, cooking outdoors had become the norm.
Her cell phone rang and she smiled. She knew from the distinctive ring that Griffin was calling her. “Good morning, darling,” she crooned, activating the Bluetooth device.
“Good morning, baby. How are you?”
Her smile faded. “I’ll let you know at the end of classes.” It would be her first day back since the high school shut down two days early for spring break.
There came a pause. “You don’t have to play Superwoman, Lindy.”
“I would’ve rather you said Wonder Woman. Her outfit was sexier than Superwoman’s.”
“I’m not joking, Belinda.”
A frown furrowed her forehead. “Neither am I, Griffin. I’ve had more than a week to deal with what happened, and I’m good.”
“I don’t want to have to tell you I told you so when you have a meltdown.”
“What are you so worried about, Griffin? Are you afraid that if I lose it, you’ll have to raise the girls by—”
“Don’t say it,” Griffin warned in a dangerously soft voice. “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say. This is not about the girls. This is about you, Belinda.”
“I’m not a fragile hothouse flower that will wilt if you touch me. I can take care of myself. Didn’t I prove that when I fought off a rapist?”
“Physical scars are not the same as emotional scars.”
Belinda blew out a breath. She knew no amount of arguing would get Griffin to believe that she wasn’t going to suffer lasting effects from one of her students firing a gun in her classroom.
“I thought we talked about this, Griffin, and decided it was nothing.”
“You decided it was nothing, Lindy, not me. If you exhibit any behavior that proves injurious to our children’s emotional well-being I’m going to have to take action. They’ve been through enough without...”
Touching a button, she disconnected the call. She would not put up with any man threatening her. The threat had begun and ended with Joel Thurman. Her cell phone rang again and she turned it off. She didn’t want to talk or argue with Griffin, not when she wanted to use the time to fortify herself for when she met with her students again.
* * *
Belinda arrived at the high school and parked in the area designated as faculty parking. She nodded to the science teacher she’d dated, quickening her pace to avoid talking to him. Reaching into her handbag she removed her photo ID and hung it around her neck. What she found strange was the absence of noise. Students stood around in small groups, talking quietly among themselves, while teachers and staff members filed silently into the school building.
The incident had brought home the reality that, in a moment of madness, someone with a gun could’ve possibly taken the life of a classmate, relative, teacher or staff.
As she clocked in, Belinda was aware of the surreptitious glances directed her way. Valerie Ritchie walked in and punched her card. “Come with me,” Belinda whispered as she turned on her heels and left the office.
“How are you doing?” Valerie asked when they found an empty first-floor classroom.
“I’m okay, Valerie. I am really all right,” she said when Valerie gave her a look of disbelief. “What do I have to do to convince everyone that I don’t need tranquilizers, or that I’m not a candidate for a straitjacket.”
Valerie leaned closer. “Weren’t you scared?”
Belinda stared at the teacher who was never seen with a hair out of place or her makeup less than perfect. Valerie had given an award-winning performance as a politician’s wife, and although she was no longer in that role she continued to play the part.
“Of course I was frightened. But once I realized Sean Greer posed more of a threat to himself than to me or the other students in my class I stopped being afraid. You had to be there to hear him talking to the negotiator. He was nothing more than a frightened kid who just wanted to fit in—be accepted. Unfortunately, Brent Wiley got to him first.”
What Belinda didn’t reveal to Valerie was that she’d been afraid that Sean was thinking of shooting himself when he’d placed the gun to his head. And, when she’d asked Griffin about helping to get competent legal counsel for the troubled youth, he’d told her that his friend had agreed to defend him pro bono.
The bell rang, signaling the beginning of classes, followed by an announcement from the principal that assemblies for each grade would be held throughout the day with counselors available to answer questions or talk one-on-one to students who requested individual sessions.
Belinda and Valerie exchanged a familiar look. The fallout from the school shooting would claim another day.
* * *
Belinda returned home to find Griffin’s SUV parked in her driveway. He was seated on the chaise in her sitting room, waiting for her, his impassive expression revealing nothing.
She flashed a warm smile. “Good afternoon.”
“Is it?”
“Of course it is, Griffin. I survived my first day back.” Spinning around on her toes, she extended her arms. “See, no bullet holes.” She wasn’t given a chance to get her balance when she found herself pulled against Griffin’s chest.
“Don’t play with me, Belinda, or I’ll—”
“Or you’ll what!” she screamed at him. “Or you’ll take my children from me? Is that what you were going to say? I don’t think so, Griffin Rice. I don’t care what kind of legal connections you think you have, but if you...”
An explosive kiss stopped her outburst. Belinda fought Griffin, but she was no match for his superior strength as his sensual assault shattered her fragile defenses. She found herself swimming through a haze of feelings she didn’t want to feel and a desire so strong that it frightened her with its intensity.
His fingers eased around her wrists as he pulled her arms behind her back, holding her captive. “Don’t ever hang up on me again,” he warned softly.
Belinda stared up at him through her lashes. “I wouldn’t have had to hang up on you if you hadn’t threatened me.”
Lifting her effortlessly with one arm, Griffin made his way out of the
sitting room to her bed. “I didn’t threaten you, Lindy.”
“Yes, you did,” she managed to say as her back made contact with the mattress. “I...” For the second time within minutes she found herself speechless.
Griffin’s hands were busy searching under her skirt for the waistband of her panty hose. In one smooth motion, her hose and panties lay on the floor and her legs were anchored over his shoulders.
“No, Griffin! Please!”
Pleas became sobs of ecstasy as Griffin utilized his own method to defuse her anger, and the degree to which she responded to his raw, sensuous lovemaking left her shaking uncontrollably. She surrendered completely to his rapacious tongue, drowning in the passion that left her shaking and crying at the same time.
Griffin lowered her legs and moved up her body. He kissed her deeply, permitting Belinda to taste herself on his tongue. “Now, can we talk?”
Belinda pushed against his shoulder. She didn’t want to talk. All she wanted to do was sleep. “Not now, Griffin.”
He smiled. “When, baby?”
“Later.”
Griffin’s smile grew wider. Making love to Belinda was the perfect antidote for defusing her temper. She was snoring lightly when he undressed her and pulled a nightgown over her head. He retreated to the half bath, soaped a washcloth and returned to the bedroom to clean away the evidence of their lovemaking. He’d covered her with a sheet and blanket when he heard the distinctive chime indicating someone had opened a door.
He met Sabrina and Layla as they dropped their backpacks and headed toward the rear of the house to see their pets. “What do you want for dinner?”
Layla stopped, giving him a bright smile. “Aunt Lindy said she was going to make spaghetti and meatballs.”
Griffin didn’t tell his niece that if her aunt didn’t get up in time to prepare dinner, he would. He had to make several business calls to the West Coast, but it was something he could accomplish either at his house or Belinda’s.
He planned to stay the night despite the fact it wasn’t the weekend. Spending eight consecutive days with Belinda had spoiled him. Not only had he fallen in love with her but missed her whenever they were apart.
Forever an Eaton: Bittersweet LoveSweet Deception Page 15
