by Ruby Laska
“Hi,” he said.
Junior opened her mouth but couldn’t think of anything to say. She tugged at the fabric of her skirt and took a half step toward him. And then retreated a step.
“Me and the girls are just finishing up a little project. It’s a surprise. Why don’t you sit on that chair. I cleared it off.”
Junior turned to see where he pointed. Sure enough, one of the old armchairs was free of clutter and looked relatively clean, its threadbare velvet dusted off.
“But—”
“Just wait. Please?” Griff turned up the heat on his grin and narrowed his eyes slightly. He let his glance travel over her, taking his time before returning to meet her eyes head on. Junior felt her pulse quicken at the dark intensity in his gaze. “It’s important.”
“All—all right.”
She sank in the chair, and listened. What on earth were the girls doing here? There was the sound of chairs scraping, of objects clunking on the table, of excited whispering.
Even if Jayce and Margaret were enjoying themselves, Junior decided she would let Teddy have it next time she saw him. No doubt he dropped off the twins on his way to do errands, something he did most Saturdays, but didn’t he know better than to leave them with Griff?
Not that Griff wouldn’t keep the girls safe, of course. He wasn’t stupid, and she knew from experience that he took his obligations seriously.
But he seemed to be having entirely more fun with them than she ever would have expected. Among the laughter and babble, it was Griff’s voice she heard excitedly rising and falling, his tone alternating between teasing and praising.
“Atta girl, that’s gonna knock her socks off,” he crowed. “Here. Gimme a high five.”
He almost sounded like he was born to it. Like he’d been hanging around little kids for ages.
Kind of like with Carlton.
A pang of guilt shot through Junior. She’d been too hard on Griff for his handling of the teen. He’d treated the boy well, taking care to respect his feelings and put him at ease. The rest—well, Junior had to admit it was, in the grand scheme of things, not such a huge lapse in judgment.
Griff lacked judgment, sometimes, but the uncomfortable fact gnawed at her that when it came to kids good judgment was mostly the product of experience. And Griff didn’t have any. Was it really fair to expect the man to be perfect from the start?
Wasn’t he in there now, part Peter Pan and part favorite uncle and some little part sounding way too much like a man who loves kids—
Two small figures came flying into the living room, slamming into her knees and wrapping their arms tightly around her waist. Junior automatically returned their hug and pulled them up into the big old chair until the girls were heaped on top of her in a giggling, wiggling mass.
Griff appeared in the living room, stepping cautiously through the rubble.
“You—you have stuff in your hair,” Junior breathed, her voice trembling a little.
Griff nodded soberly. “I think it’s temporary,” he said. “Although the girls did manage to get into the SuperGlue.”
“Auntie Junior!” Jayce said, tugging at her shirt. “We made you something!”
“It’s a surprise,” Margaret chimed in, before they both dissolved in giggles.
“We got glue on our nails,” Jayce said proudly, showing off fingers striped with neon green streaks.
“I had no idea glue came in colors,” Griff added. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, stuffing them in his pockets, then letting them hang at his sides. He cleared his throat, then shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“Yeah,” Junior said. “Way more fun than when we were kids. Um, I—”
What? She what? Feeling the color in her cheeks, she turned her attention to the girls, who scrambled off her and raced off to the kitchen.
“What are they doing here?”
“Oh, them?” Griff didn’t take his eyes off her, but picked his way past a tray of drill bits and offered her his hand. “You know, just hanging out.”
“Uh huh.” Doubtfully, Junior allowed herself to be pulled up out of the chair. “Somehow I don’t think—”
Then his lips were on hers, and her thoughts just muddled together as she tasted longing and agony echoed back in his kiss. He ran his strong hands down the small of her back and held her tightly against him, and she moaned as she melted to his shape.
Giggles again.
Junior pulled back, and hastily tugged her shirt into place.
The girls held up a small, bright object.
“You’re going to love it!” Jayce shrieked.
“It’s a ‘gagement ring,” Margaret added, then clapped her hands over her mouth in mock horror. “Oops!”
Griff took Junior’s hand and gave her a crooked, apologetic grin.
“Sorry,” he said softly, drawing her back into his embrace. “I meant to do this in private.”
“Down on your knees!” Jayce commanded shrilly. “Like in Cinderella!”
“Oh. Oops again,” Griff said, and released her hand.
Junior watched in astonishment as he lowered himself to one knee. “What—”
“Junior, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Griff’s eyes were steady now, locked on hers, and his hand was strong and warm around her own.
“I—I—”
Griff took her left hand gently and slid the object onto her finger.
It scratched. It was made of paper, and pipe cleaners, and sloppily glued plastic gems.
“It’s…gorgeous,” Junior said weakly.
“Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!” the girls chanted, jumping up and down.
“Yes,” Junior choked out.
And hiccupped.
And then she couldn’t wait one more second, and she was laughing and hiccupping and throwing herself into Griff’s arms and the girls somehow managed to get tangled up in what was surely one of the most satisfying hugs in Ross family history.
“Remind me never to arm-wrestle Hank Hollins again,” Griff said, wincing as he managed to gently disentangle the girls and draw Junior closer to him.
“You did what?” Junior asked, her eyes widening in horror.
“Boy, are you dumb,” Jayce announced, shaking her head ruefully. “He’s, like, huge.”
“And way stronger than you,” Margaret added.
“Watch it, squirts,” Griff growled, “I don’t think you should say any bad stuff about me, because I’m good friends with the boss around here. And she’s mean. Now scram.”
The girls obliged, shrieking and laughing, and Griff smiled softly as he curved Junior back against him.
“I think know a cure for those hiccups.”
###
About Ruby Laska
Ruby Laska grew up in the heart of rural Arkansas, the youngest of four sisters who shared a passion for state fairs, Vince Gill, and the local library. Now she lives and works in the not-so-small town of Little Rock, where she and her husband share their home with three rescue greyhounds. When not writing, Ruby loves to bake in her restored 1952 Chambers oven, and won a blue ribbon for her lavender shortbread last year at the Pulaski county fair.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About Ruby Laska
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