Taming McGruff (Book 3, Once Upon A Romance Series)

by leclair, laurie

  Reaching out, she touched his chest. Heat branded him there. She pulled back, clutching her hand; she must have felt the same fire.

  He hesitated. “By the way, Tabby had her kittens. Three of them. I named them T1, T2, and T3. I know how you like to name things…” He trailed off. “I sent you a picture on your phone, then I blocked your number.” He stared at her, long and hard, his heart breaking into little, splinter-like shards of glass. “Goodbye, Pixie.”

  “McGruff?”

  ***

  He’d walked out of her life.

  Priscilla’s mind filled with flashes of him: big, powerful, sexy. She could barely breathe; she ached all over, her heart the worst.

  That first night when she’d gone to his house, he’d barked questions at her about her safety. He’d only wanted to protect her. From him and his revenge, she realized, the truth finally sinking in. I can’t be trusted, he’d said. He’d done everything in his power to keep her at arm’s length.

  Then his concern overshadowed his gruffness. The next morning when she’d seen his wound, something tugged inside her. His scar showed, where none of hers had. His vulnerability touched a chord in her and, over time, made her understand the jagged reminder of that combat mission was only the tip of the buried pain inside him from his turbulent childhood. He trusted her enough to let her into his private hell.

  The little things he did for her—the ride on the Harley, in his Vette, the yellow smiley mug, the pink chair, inviting Dolly over to his sanctuary to bake Priscilla’s favorite cake, assuring her she had the heart of a King, taking over her blog and confessing his sins and his love for her—shook her to the core now. Most of all, he’d put aside his fears of opening his home to strangers, so she could have the chance to paint a palette, share it with the world, and fulfill her dream.

  And he’d listened to her, allowing her to make her own choices. Lady’s choice.

  All the while, she’d witness the tug-of-war in him, in his gray eyes. He was at battle with himself. Revenge versus redemption.

  Griffin James had chosen the latter.

  She’d been taken aback by his selfless act of handing over the hidden documents and the real will. He didn’t have to. He didn’t have to confess his finding the secret panels. He could have opened the envelopes, taken it all, and gone to the authorities with the evidence to clear his father’s name and salvage his damaged reputation while unleashing his revenge on her mother. He hadn’t.

  Her McGruff put aside everything he’d ever dreamed of and protected her and her sisters from untoward scrutiny and scandal, unlike what her mother had done to his father. In his own unorthodox way, Griffin had unknowingly carried on his father’s honorable promise of guarding the King daughters.

  You make me feel safe and cared for.

  Because you are.

  But could she forgive him for all he’d done? Could she live with the regret if she never did?

  ***

  Less than an hour later, she stood at his front door, ringing the bell. Her middle did flip-flops. The door swung open; her heart sank at the cold, hard expression on Griffin’s face.

  “Did you forget something?” he asked, placing a hand on the doorframe, essentially barring her entrance. His tone, short and clipped, sliced through her.

  “Yes, I did.” Her voice wobbled.

  “Your ride’s leaving.” He nodded to the departing car, the red glow of taillights disappearing around the corner.

  “Edward and Charlie dropped me off. I told them not to wait.”

  “That was a mistake.”

  “Can I come in?” she asked, holding up the takeout bag. “I brought Chinese.”

  He cursed. But he did drop his hand and let her in. “What kind of game are you playing, Priscilla?”

  “None, Griffin.”

  His formality frightened her. Was it a mistake to come here?

  He let her lead the way, but she turned and went into his study instead of going to the kitchen. She nearly stumbled when she spotted the jukebox. It was everything she’d imagined. “Oh, a fire,” she said lamely, going to the hearth, sitting down, and then placing the takeout bag beside her. She recalled what he’d said about her hair and skin in the firelight. Looking up, she saw the heat in his eyes. She relaxed.

  “You are playing with fire.” His low warning stirred something inside her.

  “You’re trying to protect me. Again.”

  “It’s not working, is it?”

  She shook her head.

  “Why are you here? I’ve said my goodbye already.” His voice caught on the word goodbye.

  No one stays. That phrase echoed in her mind and made her heart ache. “I didn’t say mine,” she countered. “In fact, I like it here. I like living here. I like being married to you,” she whispered the last, stunned at her own admission. It wasn’t a cage; it was a liberation. His love allowed her to express herself, to be comfortable with who she was and whatever she longed to become. It was a heady type of freedom she never knew could exist between two people. He’d given that to her, unselfishly.

  He sat down on the ottoman facing her, his hands lightly clasped in front of him. “What are you saying?”

  She could get lost in his luminous gray eyes, now filled with light and love. Reaching out, she parted his hands and leaned her arms on his thighs, she said, “I forgive you, Griffin James. I know you must have hurt for so long and so deeply. I know how lost and alone you must have felt.” Teardrops fell. He brushed them away.

  “It’s over. No more going backwards for me.”

  “For us?”

  “Lady’s choice,” he said, holding his breath.

  “No more lies,” she demanded. “Spoken or unspoken.”

  “I’m done.”

  “Forget the three-month probationary period.”

  “I can accept a life sentence with you,” he said softly.

  “Stay at the store, please. We need you there.”

  “Do I get a reward?” He smiled. “Say, you, for instance.”

  She touched his face, his strong jaw, and then traced her thumb over his bottom lip. “I think I’m the one getting the reward. My dreams come true.”

  “Ones you didn’t even know you had.”

  “You, too.” She knew he’d never dreamed of this before.

  “Are you ever going to kiss me?” he growled.

  “My McGruff,” she whispered, touching her lips to his, and then pulling back slightly.

  “Pixie,” he said softly.

  It was music to her ears. Just as good as him telling her he loved her.

  Epilogue

  A year later

  Priscilla sighed, gazing up at her husband. “Griff, I can’t believe we did it,” she said sleepily, with wonder filling her voice at the tiny bundle nearly swallowed up in his big, protective arms.

  He eased the newborn baby into her arms, and then kissed Priscilla on the forehead. “You did all the work,” he said in awe.

  She cradled the precious baby to her. “Do I get to name her, too?” Priscilla looked down at the little baby girl nestled against her side.

  “Lady’s choice,” he offered, touching the red curls. “She’s so tiny. She looks like you.”

  “That’s a good thing, since she’s a girl. I don’t think I want my daughter to be big with broad shoulders.”

  Griff chuckled. “Good point. So are you going to tell me or keep me guessing?”

  “Rico wants us to name her after him.”

  “There’s only one Rico. No one can compare,” he pointed out.

  “He’ll love it when I tell him you said that. I like the name Jamie.”

  “Jamie James?”

  “You forgot the King. Jamie King James.”

  He winced.

  “You’re right. It’s not the best.”

  “Maybe you need to wait. At least until the drugs wear off.”

  She giggled.

  Priscilla’s heart tumbled over at the love shining in his
eyes.

  Her McGruff had been hesitant at the news of a baby; he’d been alone for so many years. But once he truly understood she and the baby wouldn’t ever be leaving, the last of his hard- fought barriers washed away.

  “Your father would be so proud of you,” she whispered.

  “He’d love her. But I have a long way to go before I can make him proud.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Griff.” She lifted her hand and stroked his cheek. “You did what he set out to do: you saved King’s, made it bigger and better than ever before, you took care of Charles King’s daughters just as he promised to do, and, most important of all, you made peace with the past and decided to honor him in a way that only his son could do.”

  Griffin took her hand in his, and then kissed her palm. “I’d say the King daughters did that.”

  “No, we wanted to do something, but didn’t know what or how to do that. You came up with the idea for the foundation, allowing us to pay tribute to Daddy’s dearest friend. What better way for us to give him the respect he deserved than by giving back in his name?”

  “In a strange way, he brought me back to the King family and to you.”

  “Now we’re just one big happy family.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  She giggled again.

  ***

  A week later, at the family get-together at Griffin’s home, Priscilla settled on the couch alongside Francie and Charlie, each of them holding babies. The rest of the family and their friends stood around with their cameras or cell phones, taking pictures.

  She glanced over at her sisters, laughing at how Charlie’s two baby girls, months old now, cooed and waved their hands at Alex as he called to them. Francie, holding her two-month-old daughter, beamed at Marcus. Priscilla turned back to see Griffin taking their picture.

  “All the King’s daughters,” he said, winking at her.

  She laughed. The others joined her; even her mother and the Colonel did. The older man’s blustery laughter rang the loudest of all. He clutched Mr. Puddles in his arms and the dog yapped in sync with his master.

  It had been a long, difficult road, but her mother was making progress. One step forward and two steps back. However, she was trying. So were the rest of them. Even Griff.

  It had helped by setting up rules for her mother. As a united front, they’d listed their demands. In exchange for her sniping to end, both in private and in public, the King daughters had allowed her to be a part of their lives and their growing families. The grandmother to their children would behave or else be banned from seeing the babies. It was the last that had forced her to mend her vindictive ways. That and the Colonel’s stern, no-nonsense ultimatum of losing him forever had turned the tide and sealed the changes. She’d decided love was much more important to her than hate had ever been.

  And, with their blessing, her mother had transferred what remained in the trust funds over to her current and any future grandchildren, Charles King’s heirs. That one selfless gesture had healed a great many wounds.

  Getting up now, Priscilla dropped a gentle kiss on Ruby’s forehead. “Here, Mother, you join us, too, for the next one.”

  “Me?” Her mother pressed her hands to her cheeks, and then reached out for the baby, and cuddled her close. With her hair down and cut into a more becoming style and the blonde shade adjusted to bring out the warm undertones of her complexion, her mother looked years younger. Rico had done an amazing job. Tears shone in her eyes, something they’d seen more of as she allowed her guard down and given up drinking. Her emotions ran the gamut, but the Colonel had a sturdy, dependable solidness that she leaned on more now that they had wed. She was finally letting go of the things that had weighed her down for years, including the things in the house.

  As King’s decorating consultant, Priscilla’s next huge project would be transforming the King home, ridding them of the ghosts of the past and allowing them all to move on once and for all.

  “Me, too,” Rico cried. “I wanna be in the picture with my precious girls. Come to Uncle Rico,” he said to Francie’s little girl, Madeline. She cooed in delight as he snatched her up and swung her high in the air.

  “Got it,” Marcus said. “That’s perfect, Rico. Now, you may want to be careful. She just ate.”

  Rico stopped immediately. “Thanks for the warning.” He held her away from him, and to the baby he said, “No puking on Uncle Rico, sweetie.” Gingerly, he returned her to Francie.

  “Dolly, you come, too,” Charlie called her friend over.

  “Oh, my,” Dolly said, coming forward. “Which one do I get? Faith or Hope? I could love you both up.”

  “That’s my girl,” Edward said, snapping a shot of his wife.

  “Oh, Eddie, I think you got my backside in that one. Delete it,” she demanded.

  “Yes, dear.” He grinned, but just pocketed his camera.

  “Shameless man.” She turned pink, but didn’t argue with him.

  “I remember when we were like that,” Alex’s grandmother piped up.

  “We still are,” his grandfather said, leaning over and stealing a kiss from her.

  “And we shouldn’t ever let it stop,” Marcus’ mother joined in. “Isn’t that right, Isaac?”

  “Lots of sugar is my motto, sweetie pie. That and dancing,” he agreed, tapping his foot to his own beat. “Does a heart good.”

  “Holy moly, you should see the article coming out this week. ‘King’s Department Store, The Legacy Lives On.’ We’re numero uno once again!” Peg rushed into the room, waving a glossy magazine. “Griff did it. The Charmings perfume was just the beginning; now the new line of products sent us into the stratosphere!” She tried to catch her breath. “Stu, Geena and their gaggle of kiddos are bringing up the rear with the food and setting it up in your dining room.” Looking around, she asked, “What did I miss?”

  “You and me, we gotta get a man,” Rico said. ”’Cause I can’t take being single for much longer, not around this bunch.”

  Everyone joined in their laughter.

  Priscilla slipped away, leaving the baby with her mother, and joined Griffin. She tugged on his hand, pulling him away from the noisy crowd. “Thank you, for this,” she said, knowing he still shied away from large groups. Letting them in his home had not come easily to him.

  “I’m a work in progress.”

  “I like it, but don’t change too much. We still need McGruff, especially when our daughter starts dating.”

  “Believe me, I still have a lot of him stored up just waiting for that day.”

  She stood on tip-toe, kissing him, softly and sweetly.

  “What was that for?”

  “Because, I love you. I love our lives.”

  He kissed her back, long, slow, and deep.

  “What was that for?”

  “Because you stayed. Because you gave me fairy tales and fate, hopes and dreams. I love you with all my heart.”

  She put her head on his chest and hugged him, hearing his strong heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around her. “Life is what you make it,” she whispered. Looking over at her family, talking and laughing, Priscilla thanked the heavens above for everything she had.

  Especially for the gift of believing in love, her family, and knowing dreams did come true, even when you didn’t know what they were or how to get them. Hope led the way.

  She recalled the last line of her stepfather’s written note to her. Follow your dreams; they will lead you to your heart. He’d given the King daughters a wonderful legacy that lived on. A home. A place to belong. A family to belong to.

  The End

  Laurie LeClair writes contemporary romance and women’s fiction. Laurie’s habit of daydreaming has gotten her into a few scrapes and launched her to take up her dream of writing. Finally, she can put all those stories in her head to rest as she brings them to life on the page. Laurie considers herself a New Texan (New England born and raised and now living in Texas).

 
; Would you like Peg to have her own story? Contact me at:

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  Other books by Laurie LeClair

  Once Upon A Romance Series:

  If The Shoes Fits – Book 1

  Waking Sleeping Beauty – Book 2

  Contents

  Title page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue