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

by leclair, laurie

  “Ready?” he asked, trying to avoid looking at Priscilla too long and too intensely. That proved difficult.

  “Yes,” they said in unison.

  “We’ll leave the curtain up until tomorrow morning when we show the employees, so watch your step. No peeking.”

  Griff led the way and just before he entered, he checked to see if they had their eyes closed. Priscilla peeked through her fingers. He raised his eyebrow. She stuck her tongue out, and then closed her fingers. He smiled.

  He made sure each sister was safely inside before he said, “Welcome to the Charmings’ Beauty Bar.”

  Gasps and squeals followed.

  “I can’t believe this is the same place,” Francine said. “I love the fuchsia walls, black stations, and mirror frames…”

  Priscilla wandered the large open room and gazed about in awe. Now in the middle of the room, she twirled about. “The drawings were never this stunning!”

  He watched her, unable to breathe, unable to move. Her joy beamed from her. The crystal chandelier above her sparkled, light dancing over her. His pixie.

  “You’ve outdone yourself, Griff,” Charlie said, following Priscilla’s path through the salon slower and with more inspection. “The detail is outstanding,” she murmured.

  “I love it,” Francine said. “It’s the perfect complement to the Charmings Wedding Boutique.” She rushed to Priscilla and hugged her. “Great idea you had of tying them together, sis.”

  Griffin smiled as the two started an impromptu dance, taking turns twirling each other around.

  Charlie came up to him then and nudged him. “It’s good to see them so happy. We should take pictures.”

  “I’ve got the professionals coming in an hour before we reveal to the employees.”

  “No, I mean of them, of all of us.” She turned to him. “This is our new beginning. For a happy life. After all these years – struggling, tugs-of-war with their mother, financial instability—the store has taken a turn. And so have we, the King daughters. Daddy would be thrilled we’re finally coming into our own.”

  Something inside Griff’s middle turned over. Would she and her sisters be so happy once he’d completed his mission of destroying Agnes King and staining the family name forever?

  ***

  Gazing into the full-length mirror in the bride’s changing room just off the vestibule, Priscilla cupped her hands over her mouth and held back a squeal of delight. “Oh, my gosh,” she said, turning to her left and then her right.

  Her wedding dress couldn’t be compared to any other. The green satin shift molded to her body, but the shimmery copper threads in the gauzy fabric of the dress-length cover-up played up her hair and the multi-colored hues of greens and purples in the garment. The long loose sleeves, fitted bodice, and deep V neckline reminded her of a fairy’s dress. Or pixie, she thought Griff would say. She giggled.

  A knock on the door yanked her back to the moment. “Come in,” she called, turning away from her reflection. She held her breath, knowing it could only be one of a select few invited guests standing on the other side.

  The doorknob turned. The door opened, its hinges squeaking just a tad. “Hello, anybody I know?” Rico asked, poking his head in. When he spotted her, he shoved open the door all the way. It banged against the wall. His mouth fell open, and then closed. “Shut up!”

  Priscilla nodded. “Surprise! I’m the bride.”

  He shrieked, rushing to her. Rico picked her up, nearly knocking her out of her sparkly high heels. She held on tightly as he swung her around. “O-M-G! That’s why you begged me to help you find a dress the other day. And you said it was for a party.” Suddenly, he set her down and held her at arm’s length. “Who’s the groom?”

  “Griffin.”

  “Oh,” he held his hands out, “oh, what a divine hunk of man.” He shivered. “He gives me chills.”

  “Me, too,” she admitted.

  A frown gathered between his brows. “You two are hot, I mean really H-O-T together, some kinda sizzling energy just standing next to you guys. But, girl, are you sure? I thought marriage was the last thing on your mind. And who am I going to drag along to parties now?”

  “Rico? Is that you?” Francine called, peeking around the corner. “Priscilla? What are you doing here? I got a call. Last- minute wedding. Did someone call you, too?”

  “Francie, who are you talking to?” Charlie asked, coming up behind her.

  Her sisters stopped asking questions and gawked at her. “Where are Alex and Marcus?” Priscilla asked.

  “Right here,” Alex said.

  Marcus whistled when he saw her. “Prissy, what’s going on here?”

  “Honey?” Dolly asked, standing in the doorway with Eddie close on her heels.

  Priscilla swallowed hard. Rico slid beside her, squeezing her hand. She gripped it as she faced her family. “Peg called you all here, not knowing what was going on.”

  “Well, hell’s bells,” Peg said, pushing through the couples near the door. “Let me in, will ya?” She pulled up short when she saw Priscilla. “Mamma mia, what a spicy meatball!”

  That caused everyone to laugh, easing the tension.

  “I’ll explain, as best I can.” Priscilla took a deep, cleansing breath. “I’m getting married. Tonight.”

  “Now?” Peg asked, holding her ever present clipboard to her chest. “You’re the bride? Well, holy macaroni, who’s the gro—” She clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head.

  “Peg, what is it?” Charlie asked.

  Priscilla glanced at Peg and nodded. “Yep, that’s him.”

  “Who, him?” Francie asked.

  “Griffin James.”

  Silence reigned. Then they all began to speak at once. Questions flew. Charlie and Francie stepped near, confronting her.

  “You just met him,” Francie said.

  Rico chimed in, “That didn’t stop you and Marcus.” He pointed a finger at Charlie, saying, “Or you and Alex.” He shrugged. “So what’s the diff?”

  Marcus said, “I’m going to find Griff.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Alex said.

  “Me, too,” Edward agreed.

  When they exited, Priscilla looked from her stepsister to her sister. “I can’t explain it any more than either of you could, too. I just know it’s right.”

  “Oh, no,” Charlie groaned. “There’s no turning back now.”

  Francie sighed. “Nope. No way out.”

  “Isn’t that wonderful?” Priscilla asked, smiling as they realized the truth. The King daughters were destined to follow their hearts, wherever that may lead. She crossed her fingers, praying hers wouldn’t come out tattered when her three months ended.

  ***

  With the ring of flowers settled on her head and a bouquet of flowers in one hand, Priscilla tucked her arm through Rico’s. “Ready, friend?”

  “Girl, promise you won’t change on me?” He sniffled, dabbing his eyes.

  “Never,” she said with a fierceness from inside.

  “All right, but you have to swear you’ll give me away someday, too.”

  “Try to stop me.”

  She was still smiling as they made their way down the chapel’s small aisle. Looking up, she gasped at the sight of Griff standing at the altar, waiting for her. Tall. Powerful. Sexy.

  ***

  Griffin stilled. Priscilla took his breath away. The fairy dress, the flowers, the dainty heels were perfect for his sexy, strawberry blonde, green-eyed girl. He knew for the rest of his life he’d remember her like this. His beautiful pixie.

  When she drew near, he held out his hand. Rico took it instead, asking, “Why couldn’t it be me?”

  The guests laughed.

  Chuckling, Griff shook his hand and relaxed. The grilling he’d taken from her brothers-in-law less than a half hour ago had him rethinking the last-minute invitations. However, Priscilla refused to get married without her family by her side. He’d relented.

 
; “Pixie,” he said in a soft voice as she stepped toward him.

  “Griff,” she whispered, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

  Those eyes, wide and lit from within, held light and hope.

  He only wished he could live up to those expectations. Somehow he doubted it.

  Chapter 14

  The minister, who came with the chapel, performed a heartfelt ceremony, making Griff wonder what in the world he was doing. A spark of guilt flashed, and then extinguished.

  He had to protect her.

  “Repeat after me,” the balding man of the cloth said to Priscilla. “I, Priscilla King, take thee, Griffin James, to be my lawful wedded husband…”

  “I, Priscilla King, take thee, Griffin James.” Staring into his eyes, she leaned close and whispered, “Aka McGruff—”

  He laughed.

  She grinned.

  “Pixie,” he said softly, feeling the stones surrounding the fortress to his heart shift.

  Within minutes, he slipped a delicate wedding band on her finger, and then an engagement ring. The center emerald sat among a circle of diamonds. Her gasp of delight warmed him.

  Her surprise extended when he handed her a gold ring to place on his finger. His gesture proclaimed, loud and clear, he belonged to her. A fierce pride shook him at the thought.

  He cupped her face between his palms and with stunning awe, he gently kissed her lips, making them man and wife.

  No matter what happened in the next few months, he could hang onto the fact that, for one brief moment, they were linked together, entwined in time. She, Priscilla King, had accepted him into her life and into her heart. For a very long time, no one else had ever made him feel that wanted.

  ***

  Sensing her nervousness when they entered his house later that night, he said, “I have a surprise for you.”

  “Another one?” She shivered. Gingerly, she removed the crown of flowers and placed them on the kitchen counter, and then fluffed her hair.

  “You’ll like this one,” he assured her.

  “I’ve liked all of them so far.”

  He held out his hand to her. With a slight hesitation, she took it. He laced his fingers through her cold ones, realizing she’d begun to tremble. His heart hitched.

  But his body hummed with anticipation at the night to come. He wanted her. The ache had grown beyond comprehension. “I don’t bite,” he said softly, pointing out she may be holding his hand while walking to his study, but she kept nearly two feet between them.

  She sighed. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “I’ve never been with a man before.”

  How could he ease her anxiety? “Well, you’ve already slept with me. First night we met. A little presumptuous of you, too, don’t you think?”

  Her gasp, followed by a chuckle and her swatting his arm, convinced him he’d said the right thing. “You are so bad. It wasn’t like that and you know it.”

  “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

  “Why, Griffin James, you’re trying to be funny.”

  “It’s a natural gift.”

  They both laughed at the absurdity of that.

  “Ready?” he asked, standing in the darkened doorway of his study.

  “I think so.”

  Griff reached out and flicked on the stark overhead light. He watched her face.

  “No way,” she said, putting her hands over her mouth. “A pink chair?”

  “And ottoman.”

  Rushing to it, she asked, “Is it mine?” She brushed the back of it and looked up at him as he strolled toward her.

  “Well, Pixie, it isn’t mine. Pink’s not my color.”

  Priscilla went to him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him close. “Griff, how did you know? It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you so much.”

  Griff held her tightly, picking her up off the floor. He stared into her eyes. Warmth and something more shone there. It was his turn to gasp. “Since you’ll be living here now, I thought you’d need your own chair in my study.”

  Tears gathered in her eyes. “You are such a surprise, Mr. James. I’m a little sad to see my McGruff leave, though.”

  “Oh, he’s still there.” More than you’ll ever realize.

  ***

  Less than an hour later, Griff lay back against the pile of pillows on his bed. In the bathroom, Priscilla got ready, turning on every knob and gadget in the room, he imagined, as he heard them come on and go off at intervals.

  Finally, she opened the door, already having shut the light off. But in the moonlight from the window, he made out her outline in the short, revealing, shimmery nightgown. She scurried across the room and, lifting the covers, jumped into his king-sized bed, clinging to the farthest edge away from him.

  “You’re naked?!” she choked out.

  “That’s how I always sleep.”

  Her soft moan didn’t help his own condition.

  Griff closed his eyes and counted to ten, knowing he went against every desire pulsating through his body at the moment. “Lady’s choice.” He wouldn’t pressure her.

  “Really? You’d do that for me?”

  “Yes,” he said between gritted teeth. His jaw ached with the effort.

  “That’s so sweet.” She turned to him, still feet away. “Don’t you want me?”

  He groaned. “Yes, I want you.” So much and so badly it hurts. But he couldn’t tell her that, couldn’t frighten her any more than she already was.

  “Oh,” she said, “that’s good to know.”

  His chuckle came out raw. “Was there a doubt?”

  “Just checking.” Her voice grew nearer as she inched closer. “I’m new at this.”

  Griff couldn’t stop his grin; that was an understatement. “Explore, if you want.” How much could he take, though? “But, be warned, there will be a point when you’ll either have to stop altogether or go on. I’m not a machine.”

  “I never thought you were,” she whispered, scooting toward him. “I’ll be gentle.”

  Her giggle and warm breath brushed over his flesh. He bit down on another groan.

  Priscilla moved closer still. “May I?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, but just rested her head against his chest. Her sigh echoed through him. Her soft hair tickled. “Heaven,” she whispered in the dark, and then tentatively ran her hand along his side and over his middle, resting her hand there.

  He sucked in a sharp breath. Maybe this was the wrong decision. He clamped down on his growing desire, keeping it in check for her sake.

  “You can put your arm around me,” she offered, snuggling close, her body curving into his.

  With great care, Griff shifted, holding her to his side. He swallowed. Her soft skin and silky nightie made him moan.

  “Like that?” she asked, turning her head to gaze up at him.

  He murmured, unable to say a word; his tamped-down desire would surely scare her if he unleashed it now.

  Priscilla leaned down, placing a tender kiss on his chest, and then, moving slightly, placed another on his skin, and another… She continued. Her soft lips trailed a hot path of flames. Easing upward, she kissed his chin, and then cheek, all the while unaware she was nearly on top of him. Her sexy curves pressed into his torso. “May I kiss you?”

  “You mean you haven’t been?”

  “Your lips.” Before he could answer, she brushed hers against his, and then dipped her tongue along his lips, slicing them open to join him in a hot, sensual kiss.

  He gripped her to him, sliding his other hand through her soft hair, down her back, and cupped her perfect round bottom. This time, she groaned.

  When she broke the embrace, he let her. “Can I explore more?”

  Nodding, he gave her permission. He lay back, allowing her full access.

  But she stretched out, trying to feather kisses along his other side.

  “Here, like this.” He guided her, lifting her by the waist and settling her down on top of him, sitting astrid
e his bare upper thighs. He pulsated against the silky nightie she still wore.

  Her sharp gasp pierced the air. “Griff!”

  “Explore, Pixie,” he invited.

  It didn’t take her very long to recover from her shock; she trailed her hands over his chest and down his middle and over his abdomen. Flames licked everywhere she touched. Bolder now, she followed with her lips, knowingly stroking him with the silk fabric along the length of him. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, planting kisses along his jagged scar.

  His breath caught. No one had wanted to see the ugly wound, never mind kiss it. Something in his chest splintered. No, he couldn’t let her come in and just decimate his well-protected fortress. Too late, his mind jeered.

  He let her continue until she’d had her fill. She sat up now. “What do I do next?”

  A bolt of desire lanced through him. Sitting up, he faced her; he trailed his hands over her tiny waist and gripped her hips, settling her against his hardness. Only a thin piece of silk separated them. Her soft gasp feathered over his lips.

  “There’s a difference between making love with someone or to someone.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Give and take. Now it’s time for you to receive.”

  Priscilla shivered in his arms.

  He trailed kisses over her jaw, down her neck, and then over her shoulder. Griff eased the thin strap off her. It dropped away, revealing the upper curve of her breast. “Arch your head back,” he suggested. When she did, he feathered kisses along her skin and along the plumpness of her cleavage, licking the flesh there.

  Her shallow breaths spurred him on. Griff repeated his actions with the other strap. When it slid down her arm, the silky fabric fell, caught only by her taut nipples. Through the material, he traced the outline with his thumb.

  Priscilla gasped, her body jerking. He pulsed between her legs and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Again,” she whispered. Her soft command made his body respond, thumping against the junction. She squeezed her legs, attempting to tuck the length of him closer.