Arden could hardly breathe. “Turn it off,” she choked out. “Please.”
The sound stopped. “Sorry,” Griff said. “I thought you would like classical.”
Swallowing hard, she shook her head. “I don’t need music. I’m good with silence, if you are. Or…or the bluegrass.” She didn’t feel at all connected to such a foreign style of playing, which made it bearable. “Whatever you want.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Let’s go with silence.” Just as she started to relax, he said, “We can tell each other our life histories. That’s what engaged people do, right?”
Arden reached for the radio. “I’d prefer bluegrass.”
Chapter Four
The whining vocals and jangling instruments created an excellent barrier between the two halves of the front seat. Arden sat with her eyes closed and her head back, hoping to relax and dull the knives stabbing through her skull. By the time they’d reached Daytona Beach, however, she could only surrender.
She turned the radio off. “Could we stop for the night? I really don’t think I can ride much farther without being sick.”
Griff flashed her an assessing glance. “No problem. There’s a good place to stay just two exits from here. Give me ten minutes and we’ll have a room.”
“No speeding,” she reminded him.
“Strictly under the limit,” he agreed. “And it’ll still be ten minutes.”
She stumbled across the grass beside the parking lot with Igor while Griff registered, then followed the Jag on foot as he drove around the building to the space nearest a door.
“I’ll bring the bags in,” he said, when she stopped beside the trunk. “I want you inside and lying down.”
“But—”
“No arguments.” He clasped her arm with one big, warm hand and drew her toward the door. “My ten minutes are almost up.”
Arden abandoned the argument because the afternoon sunlight jabbed viciously at her eyes. Even the elevator lighting seemed too bright. In the room, she unclipped Igor’s leash, then headed for the double bed nearest the air-conditioning unit.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, crawling to the center of the mattress. “I would help…” The pillow muffled her voice as she buried her face in its softness and succumbed to agony.
When she opened her eyes again, the world—though still painful—had become at least bearable again. She was lying on her side, covered by a soft blanket in a very cool room, with Igor curled in his usual place along the backs of her legs. The only light came from behind a mostly closed door, and the only sound was the soothing hum of air-conditioning. Focusing on that monotonous drone, refusing to ask herself any questions, Arden fell back into sleep.
A slight clink of glass woke her the second time. “Sorry,” a man whispered nearby. “I thought you might want something to drink when you woke up.”
Memory flooded through spaces vacated by the headache. Griff. The engagement. A baby. “That sounds good,” she murmured. “A cold drink would be wonderful.”
“Water or tea?”
She moved her head slightly, and it didn’t hurt too much. “Tea?”
“Coming up.”
Propping herself against the pillows required more effort than it should have, but she managed the feat in time to accept the glass of iced tea Griff offered. “Thank you so much.” The first taste was heaven. “Perfect.”
He hovered between the beds, as if he couldn’t decide whether to sit or stand. “I bought pain medicines, if you want something.”
“Right now I’m just thirsty.”
After she’d downed the glass and he’d brought another, Griff asked, “Do you get migraines often?”
Arden sipped, sighed, then frowned at him. “Do you always ask so many questions?”
“An occupational hazard, I guess. The animals can’t tell me what’s wrong, so I have to get as much information from the owners as I can. And that usually means asking questions.”
“Could you bring me my bag? I have some pills….”
“Sure.”
With the tablets swallowed, she set her empty glass on the table between the beds and slid down to rest her head on the pillows. She remembered that she hadn’t answered his question. “I haven’t had a migraine in months. But before I moved to Chaos, I was enduring at least one a week. Stress, the doctors said.”
“I’m sorry.” Griff sat down on the other bed, propping his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t intend to bring stress and pain into your life with my proposal.”
“Of course not.” The medicine was beginning to take effect, making her sleepy and a little drunk. She stretched out her arm to drop her hand onto his wrist. “I’ll be fine tomorrow. Just need…sleep.”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought she felt him kiss her fingers before the world faded away.
ONCE CONVINCED THAT ARDEN was fast asleep and would stay that way, Griff left Igor on guard and went to the hotel lobby to make a phone call. His first act upon reaching the ocean six months ago had been to throw his cell phone as far as possible—and considering he’d played right field for his high school and college baseball teams, that was far enough to be sure the phone never washed up on shore.
Now, he had to call collect. Fortunately, his mother answered. “Yes, of course we’ll accept the charges. Griff? Is that you?”
“Hey, Mom. Happy New Year.” Hearing her Southern belle accent exposed a soft place in his chest. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. We’re all just fine here. When are you coming home?”
Somewhere in the house, his sister Dana screamed, “Griff? Griffith Major Campbell, you get your butt home right now!”
He chuckled. “That was clear enough. As a matter of fact, Mom, I guess I’ll be there sometime tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh, Griff, that’s wonderful.” Now she sounded a little teary, too. “Can we have the family over for dinner? Is that too much for your first night back? Where are you planning to stay? I’ll air out the guest cottage—no one’s lived there since last summer, but I can have it ready in a jiffy.”
“That would be great, Mom.” The moment was on top of him before he’d planned how to deal with it. “Um…I’m bringing someone with me.”
“That’s nice, son. You know friends of yours are always welcome.” Her words slowed, then stopped for a second as she interpreted his tone of voice. “Do you mean a girlfriend?”
“That’s right. Arden Burke is her name.”
“Is this an important relationship?”
“As a matter of fact…” He took a deep breath. “We have been talking about getting married.”
Which wasn’t a lie—he and Arden had discussed pretending to be engaged to be married.
A long pause followed his announcement.
“Mom? You still there?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m here. Just surprised, is all. You haven’t mentioned meeting someone. When you called.” Which wasn’t nearly often enough, her tone implied.
“It happened pretty suddenly.” Now he felt guilty. His family didn’t keep secrets more important than surprise parties, or birthday and Christmas presents. “But I’m sure you’ll like her. She’s terrific.” He sounded like the dumb hero in a two-star romantic comedy. “I thought Arden could stay in the guest house and I could sleep at the house, in my old room.”
“Of course. That will work out perfectly.” Her voice had cooled from its usual warm tone. “Here’s your dad. I’ll see you tomorrow, son. Oh, I’m so glad to be able to say that!”
In the next instant, his father said, “It’s about time you called to say you’re coming home.”
Griff grinned, at the same time shaking his head over the familiar, irascible voice. “Better late than never.”
“You’re way past late. I’m too old to be working this hard.”
“Right, Dad. You’re so ancient.”
“Without a second vet in the practice, I’m feeling ancient. Be prepared to do some serious over
time, ’cause as soon as you get home, your mother and I will be taking a long vacation.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it. But we’ll show up tomorrow afternoon sometime.”
“We?”
“Mom will explain. See y’all then.”
“Griff—”
“Kiss the girls for me. Bye.” He hung up without letting his dad get another word in. Jake Campbell always knew when his children weren’t telling the truth. Griff didn’t want to risk blowing his cover before he’d even crossed the Georgia state line.
Walking back to the hotel room, he endured second thoughts about his “brilliant” plan for going home. Could he and Arden convince his family that they had fallen in love and decided to get married? Exactly what kind of charade had they agreed to perform?
He entered the room as quietly as the lock would allow. Igor’s hackles raised as Griff came near, but subsided when he stretched out on the empty bed. Turning onto his stomach, Griff studied the woman across from him, now curled on her side and smiling slightly—sure signs she’d fallen into a deep, restorative sleep. The thought allowed him to relax, too.
He wouldn’t have any trouble demonstrating physical attraction to his “fiancée.” Even knowing she needed her rest, he could easily have become aroused enough to wake her up to make love. And he had a feeling she’d be fun to talk to, if she would ever answer his questions.
But she obviously wanted to keep her life—past, present and future—a secret. Griff had to wonder why. Was she a criminal, hiding from the law? Did all that money come from a bank robbery or an investment scam? Embezzlement?
More likely, Arden was a victim hoping to avoid pursuit, perhaps even threats against her life. That would explain the pistol and the dog. Had she witnessed a crime? Or was a jealous ex-boyfriend—husband, maybe?—refusing to let her go?
Griff flopped onto his back. Jeez. He was going to have to get a few answers from the lady, if only so he could stay alert and protect them both.
During tomorrow’s drive they would have to talk about the information lovers tended to share, so they wouldn’t be surprised when questions popped up. With his mother and three sisters at the dinner table, an interrogation would definitely be on the menu.
Meanwhile, Dr. Jake would scan their faces with his sharp blue eyes and register every hesitation, every panicked gulp, every blank-minded pause. Griff might not reveal his thoughts right away, but he had never successfully lied to his dad.
He was pretty sure tomorrow wouldn’t be any different.
THE NEXT MORNING, Arden swore she had recovered completely, and left Griff no choice but to believe her when she downed a huge country-style breakfast.
“I’m always famished after a migraine,” she said, spreading jam on a corn muffin. “And we didn’t really eat yesterday, did we?”
“I had a sandwich last night. But I’m glad you feel better.” Griff had done a reasonable job of finishing his own platter of food. “So we’re ready to go?”
Her nod set her hair swinging. “Definitely.”
They stopped for lunch at an outlet mall just over the Georgia–Florida line. “First we eat,” Arden declared. “Then we shop.”
Seeing the excitement in her face, he chuckled. “Lead the way.”
He followed her into the most upscale stores and watched her browse the racks with a critical eye. Then she would disappear into a dressing room with an armful of clothes, finally emerging with a select few items.
Only once did she ask for his help. “Stay there,” she told him, heading in with a pile of jeans. “I’m going to want a second opinion.”
Slouched in a chair near the dressing area, Griff waited with the resignation of a man who had spent too many hours watching sisters try on clothes, and who had all too often been asked for his appraisal, only to be told he didn’t know what he was talking about.
He would just tell Arden she looked great in everything, then let her choose. No sense getting into an argument over jeans.
Then she walked out in the first pair. “Wow,” he said sincerely. “Those look great.” The jeans rode low on her hips and fit tight in all the right places. She had put on a snug T-shirt, which revealed her slender waist and rounded breasts. Griff wholeheartedly approved.
Arden frowned as she examined her mirror image. “Not bad. Maybe a little wide in the leg?”
He tilted his head and considered. “Don’t think so.”
She nodded. “Right. I’ll be back.”
He shook his head when she reappeared. “Too big.” By which he meant not tight enough.
“Comfortable,” she replied. Then she pulled at a fold of fabric over her hip. “But you’re right. Too big.”
In the end, she chose the first jeans he’d liked, plus an even slimmer, tighter pair that left him shifting in his seat.
“Nice,” he managed to say. “Very nice.” He doubted she would appreciate being told those jeans were “hot.”
In the next store, Arden browsed through the coats and jackets while Griff went to the men’s department for clothes and shoes he could wear to dinner at his mother’s table. As he changed in the dressing room, an announcement came over the sound system. “Shoppers, be aware that we have a lost child in the store. If you see a little girl wandering alone, please inform a salesperson immediately. Thank you.”
As he left the changing area, Griff checked behind each door, but all the booths were empty. With his old clothes in a shopping bag, he went back to the women’s department.
He couldn’t see Arden anywhere. Lingerie, dresses, sportswear, makeup…no slim, dark-haired beauty was to be found. Returning to the coat section, he walked slowly among the displays, wondering if he should stay put and allow her to find him. Had she decided to ditch the plan, after all?
In the end, he almost tripped over her where she sat on the floor, head bent to look beneath coats hanging from a rack.
“Can you come out now?” Her low, sweet tone made the words sound like a lullaby. “Your mommy is wondering where you are.”
The child didn’t answer.
Arden extended her hand a short way. “I can take you to your mommy, if you want.” Still no response. “Or your mommy can come to you.”
Griff took the hint and notified the nearest saleswoman. Then he went back to serve as a marker for the child’s location.
Moments later, a blonde woman with a tear-streaked face dropped to her knees beside Arden. A crowd of security officers, store managers and salespeople hovered behind them.
The mother stretched out her hands. “Kristy? Kristy, honey? Come to Mommy.”
The little girl spoke this time. “Unh-uh.”
“Sweetie, you can’t stay here. We have to go home.”
“No.”
The mother’s cheeks flushed, and annoyance replaced some of her panic. “Come on out, sweetheart. We’ll go get that ice cream you wanted.”
Arden looked up at Griff. “We need a toy,” she said softly. “Can you find one?”
A glance around showed him the children’s department across the store. “Be right back.”
He sprinted as if he’d hit a double, grabbed a stuffed duck off a shelf and raced back like he was stealing home. Panting only slightly, he dropped the toy in Arden’s lap.
“Quack, quack,” she said immediately, sounding like an authentic bird. “Quack, quack, quack.”
She made the duck waddle forward, as if taking a peek at the little girl, and then retreat, still quacking. The second time, a small hand followed. Finally, a child’s head emerged from among the hanging garments. Kristy reached for the duck as her mother reached for her.
“There you are.” The woman got to her feet with her daughter in her arms. “Naughty girl, hiding from Mommy.”
Arden had released the stuffed duck into the little girl’s hold. Kristy put the toy under her chin and hid her face against her mom’s neck.
“Thank you so much.” The mother gave Arden a grateful look. “We’
d been searching for an hour when they made the announcement. I was so afraid someone had taken her.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks again. She kissed Kristy’s forehead. “So afraid.”
Arden set a hand briefly on the child’s back. “I’m glad I could help. I just happened to hear her singing to herself.” She gathered her shopping bags and backed up as she spoke. “Let her keep the duck as my present.”
“Oh, no–”
But Arden turned at that moment and began to walk away. Catching a glimpse of her face, Griff pulled a couple of twenty dollar bills from his pocket and dropped them beside a register, then hurried after her.
He caught up in time to open the outside door before Arden could. Once they’d cleared the exit, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”
Tears sparkled in her long lashes as she looked up at him. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
“Forgive me for saying so, but you don’t look fine. You look…devastated.”
“Not at all.” Setting down her bags, she wiped her fingers over her eyes and cheeks. No mascara smeared, proving that her long lashes were natural. “Really, I’m okay.”
Griff took the opportunity to pick up the shopping bags himself. “She was a cute little girl.”
“All those blond curls.” Arden sighed and nodded. “But evidently a handful for her mother.”
“Most kids are, at one time or another. I’m sure my mother will tell you stories about my escapades. One of the drawbacks to this charade, I guess. You’ll know more about me than you ever wanted to.”
“And we should be on the road, shouldn’t we?” Arden started walking briskly toward the parking lot. “We wouldn’t want to be late for dinner.”
Surprised that she hadn’t argued about carrying the bags, Griff followed. Igor greeted them at the car windows, and Arden took him for a brief walk in the chilly fresh air before they resumed the trip.
With her sunglasses back in place and her face turned toward the window, she couldn’t have signaled more clearly that she wasn’t in the mood to talk. Griff left her alone and even left the radio off as he wrestled with his own thoughts.
A Convenient Proposal Page 5