A Convenient Proposal

by Lynnette Kent

  Arden had said she wanted a child as her “price” for doing him this favor. The expression on her face—part grief, part yearning, he decided—indicated more than just the ticking of her biological clock. He’d seen grieving pet owners wear that look.

  Had Arden lost a child? Would she tell him if he asked?

  Griff snorted to himself. Not likely.

  Not yet, anyway.

  THEY HAD THEIR FIRST lover’s quarrel as they passed through Macon around four o’clock.

  “I am not a short-tempered man,” Griff said through set teeth. “But you’re testing my limits.”

  Arden stared out the side window. “You know as much as you need to. My past is finished and of no interest to anyone, including me.”

  His fist thudded on the steering wheel. “Lovers—people who are thinking about spending their lives together—share their histories. Childhood days, teenage years and college…all of it contributes to the person you’ve become. Your memories matter.”

  Most of Arden’s childhood memories involved windowless rooms containing a music stand and a violin. “We aren’t spending our lives together. Just a few weeks.”

  “Why are you threatened by my questions? Wait—you’re in the Witness Protection Program, right? If I discover who you really are, they’ll find you and kill you.”

  She couldn’t repress a chuckle. “I wish I could use that excuse, because you might actually let this rest.”

  “You won’t say where you were born?” He sounded almost discouraged.

  Perhaps if she gave him a few details, he’d be satisfied. “Okay, you win. I was born in New York City and lived there with my mother until I was nine.”

  He turned his head to give her a big grin. “Not so hard to say, was it? What happened when you were nine?”

  “We moved around quite a bit.” Because she was performing in Europe and Asia.

  “Where did you graduate from high school?”

  “I was homeschooled.”

  “Ah. And college?”

  Now she’d reached her limit. “New York.”

  “Does that meant New York State University? New York University? Or a college which shall remain nameless in the city of New York?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Are you trying to drive me crazy?” With a twist of his wrist, bluegrass music blared into the space between them, painfully loud.

  But Arden endured it without comment, refusing to give him the satisfaction of admitting it bothered her. Griff drove for an hour without changing the volume or glancing in her direction. Though she regretted the hostility between them, she couldn’t bring herself to admit more.

  Because admitting that she’d attended Julliard would lead him to ask about her musical career. If she told him the truth, he’d pry into the reasons she wasn’t playing now. She’d have to reveal her approaching deafness, and from there move on to her gullibility and foolishness. As hard as she’d worked to bury those memories, telling Griff about them would bring everything back to the surface.

  Why put herself through that?

  Finally, he turned down the radio volume. “I’m sorry I yelled,” he said. “Maybe I’m not as even tempered as I claimed to be.”

  “I can understand your frustration.” She turned slightly toward him. “Just believe me—nothing in my past matters today, and none of it affects you in the least. As far as we’re concerned, history started on New Year’s Eve.”

  “I’ll try.” He swallowed hard. “So what details shall we concoct for the benefit of the nosy people in Sheridan? Let’s make up a really good story, so they’ll be suitably impressed.”

  Arden hadn’t even begun to think of a story when Griff snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it. How about we say you’re a lost relative of the last Russian czar?”

  WITHIN AN HOUR OF THEIR arrival, Arden decided that her current predicament made press conferences look like quiet time at the public library.

  The Campbell family proved to be huge, comprised of not just Griff’s parents and three sisters, but their husbands and children, too, all of whose names she was supposed to remember. Plus his cousins—at least five of them, with their own spouses and kids.

  “I’ll make you a cheat sheet,” Griff whispered shortly after they arrived. “You can study in bed tonight.”

  Was it his breath on her ear that sent a shiver up her spine? Or just the prospect of having to know this many people by tomorrow morning?

  Seated at the long table in the Campbells’ dining room, Arden managed to taste, chew and swallow exactly one bite of a delicious potato casserole before the questions started.

  Griff’s oldest sister, Dana, sat on her right. “So, where did the two of you meet?” She resembled her brother, with the same curly blond hair, pinned into a loose knot at the back of her head, and those beautiful blue eyes. Both of them were the image of their father, whose piercing gaze had already flustered Arden more than she wanted to admit.

  “We met in Miami.” Arden took a sip of iced tea, trying to recall the story they’d decided to tell. “On the beach, actually.”

  Dana’s eyes narrowed. “Most people don’t talk to strangers on the beach.”

  “My dog had slipped his leash.” They’d introduced Igor to the crowd, then put him in the laundry room with a blanket and his dinner. “Griff caught him and was walking along the shore looking for his owner.”

  “Sounds like him.”

  Arden gave a silent sigh of relief.

  “But Igor still isn’t too friendly with Griff, is he? I mean, he doesn’t try to play with him or anything.”

  “I’m afraid not.” Time for improvisation. “But you’ll notice that Igor isn’t friendly with men in general. The shelter where I found him said his previous owner was, to put it mildly, abusive, and had left Igor with a real grievance against males.” She offered what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “We’re working on it, though. I think Igor will come around in time.”

  The youngest Campbell sister, Kathy, spoke from across the table. Arden turned to watch her lips, but the competing conversations in the room muddled the beginning of her comment.

  “…love Griff,” Kathy said. “I’ve seen him coax foxes and deer to eat from his fingers.”

  “That’s a good way to get rabies,” Dr. Campbell pointed out from the end of the table. His forceful voice would be audible no matter how high the level of background noise.

  “Which is why I’ve had my rabies vaccinations.” Griff turned from talking to his mother, on his other side. “Why don’t y’all let Arden eat some of this delicious food? There’s plenty of time ahead for answering questions.”

  She sent him a grateful glance.

  “So take your own turn, bro.” Lauren, the middle sister, resembled her mother and Kathy, with soft, curling brown hair and green eyes. She, too, sat across the table. “How long have you two been dating?”

  “That was July,” Griff replied promptly, “when we met on the beach. The fourth, to be exact. We were watching fireworks and Igor bolted because of the noise.”

  “You’ve been in Miami all this time?” Mrs. Campbell’s question sounded loud in the sudden silence around the table. “But I thought you said—”

  Griff held up a hand. “I did say. I spent most of the time I was gone traveling around the Caribbean. I hit the Bahamas, Turk and Puerto Rico, then Montserrat, Barbados, Tobago and most of the islands in between. But…” He raised his wineglass in Arden’s direction. “I went back to Miami more and more often. For a little longer each time.”

  Arden had to admire his acting ability. He didn’t betray the lie with so much as the flicker of an eyelash.

  “And you live in Miami all the time, Arden?” Mrs. Campbell’s reaction had so far been the most reserved in the family. “On the beach?”

  Now everyone at the table had stopped talking to listen, so she could hear easily enough. “I have a condo there.”

  “In a high-rise,” Griff added, “wit
h an amazing view. Watching a storm come in over the horizon is better than any Hollywood movie.”

  “And what kind of work do you do in Miami?”

  She turned toward Dr. Campbell to answer his question. “I—”

  But Griff spoke at the same moment. “I’m going to make Arden eat in the kitchen from now on,” he declared. “She’ll starve to death out here.”

  “You’re right.” His dad pretended to look sternly around the table, but his eyes twinkled. “No one is allowed to talk to Griff or Arden again until they’ve left their seats.”

  Arden gave another silent sigh as the focus of attention became more scattered. Even Griff addressed his food, rather than her.

  But when she put her hand into her lap for her napkin, he reached over, grasped her fingers and squeezed.

  As appeared to be their custom, the family sat late around the table, drinking wine and carefully avoiding asking Arden more questions. Her offer to help with clearing the dishes was met with a small smile and a shake of Mrs. Campbell’s head.

  “No, thank you. Just sit there and relax.” Her three daughters and several cousins did get up, however, leaving Arden at the table with the men. She might have found that relaxing enough, but Griff hitched his chair close to hers and put his arm around her shoulders.

  “This is what I’d do if we were authentic,” he murmured, taking her hand off the table and twining his fingers with hers. “Thanks for putting up with all this. I know it’s not easy.”

  She smiled, trying to look as if he’d said something sweet and romantic. “It’s not exactly hard. You have a very nice family.”

  “Too nice, sometimes.” He leaned close and kissed her cheek.

  “What does that mean?” Her face felt hot where his lips had touched.

  “Not my dad—he’s your usual gruff, grumpy, take-care-of-yourself old guy. But being the only boy with three sisters and a mom is like trying to swim in a pool filled with feathers. Soft, sweet-smelling feathers.”

  Arden laughed. “That sounds awful.”

  Griff gave her a dire look. “Exactly.”

  People began getting up from the table, and Griff stood to pull her chair out so that Arden could, as well. Unfortunately, the end of dinner signaled the resumption of questions. As Arden surveyed photographs of the family displayed on the bookshelves framing the fireplace in the den, she felt Mrs. Campbell’s presence at her shoulder.

  “Does your family live in Miami, as well?”

  The subtext to that question came through loud and clear: Did they know about Griff before we knew about you?

  “My mother lives in New York.” Arden turned halfway around, so she could see her inquisitor without a direct confrontation. “My dad left when I was five, and we haven’t heard from him since. I don’t have any brothers or sisters, or cousins, that I know of.” No matter how many times she told it, the story never sounded less pitiful.

  “I’m sorry,” Mrs. Campbell said. “We’re so used to having lots of family around, I forget that not everyone is so lucky. Do you visit often with your mother? New York to Miami is a long way to travel.”

  The usual javelin of anger and pain stabbed through Arden. “We…” She cleared her throat. “We had a—a disagreement about a year ago. I haven’t seen her since.”

  For the first time since they’d met, the reserve in Mrs. Campbell’s eyes melted. “That’s terrible. I hope the two of you can resolve your differences soon. I can’t imagine not speaking to one of my daughters for a year—or even a day! I had a hard enough time when Griff vanished. He was out of touch for several months, and I went nearly crazy with worry.”

  Arden turned the rest of the way around. “He didn’t tell you he was leaving?”

  Griff’s mother nodded. “He did, but no one anticipated that he wouldn’t call or even send an email. It’s not like him to cut himself off from everybody.”

  Arden looked across the room, where Griff was playing rock, scissors, paper with the eight children circled around him. “Being betrayed by the person you expected to marry changes you in ways you don’t understand. Or even recognize, at first.”

  Mrs. Campbell followed her line of sight. “You sound as if you’ve experienced that kind of pain yourself.”

  Having revealed more than she intended, Arden hoped her dismay didn’t show on her face. “Um…I was engaged. Then I discovered he was unfaithful, so I broke it off. But I haven’t mentioned that to Griff. If you wouldn’t mind—”

  “No, of course I won’t tell him. But I can promise you that my son wouldn’t hurt a woman.”

  “I know.” Somehow, Arden did. Part of Griff’s appeal derived from his courtly behavior. He was a gentleman in every sense of that old-fashioned word. “He’s different from any man I’ve ever known.”

  “We’re certainly proud of him.” Rosalie Campbell smiled as she watched him lose the game. “We never again want to see him suffer as he has this last six months.”

  “Believe me, the last thing I want is to cause trouble for Griff. Or anyone.”

  That meant she couldn’t afford to stay too long or get too close to the family who loved him. Otherwise, there would be pain all around when she returned to her solitary existence on Chaos Key—with, perhaps, a child of her own to cherish.

  And these people would hate her for taking that baby away.

  So they simply couldn’t find out. She would have to leave before anyone even suspected she might be pregnant, Griff included. Judging by his family, and by what she knew of him so far, he was not a man who would let go of his child.

  Unfortunately for them all, Arden had remade herself into a woman who refused to share. Not her child, not her life…and definitely not her heart.

  GRIFF GAVE EACH OF the kids a high five hand slap, then looked around in time to see his sisters advancing toward Arden with more questions on their minds. After enduring a chat with his mom, the last thing his fiancée needed was another round with the Campbell interrogation team.

  He arrived just in time to head them off. “Nope, no more tonight,” he declared, stepping between the inquisitors and their victim. “Arden and I are taking Igor for a walk and then she’s going to get some rest. It’s been a long couple of days.”

  “Why, Griff, whatever do you mean?” Dana fluttered her eyelashes at him in her best Gone with the Wind imitation.

  “We just want to make Arden feel at home.” Kathy usually played Melanie to Dana’s Scarlett.

  Lauren twirled an imaginary mustache. “And worm her life history out of her.” She finished up with a wicked laugh.

  “Tomorrow,” he promised, and put his arm around Arden’s shoulders to guide her toward his parents. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

  As they said good-night, his dad held Arden’s hand for a moment. “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you, young lady. I’ll look forward to that in the days ahead.”

  Arden smiled widely, as if she wasn’t terrified. “I will, too, Dr. Campbell. Griff’s told me how much he admires you.”

  Griff didn’t remember saying anything like that. But it sounded good.

  Then his dad looked at him. “With the holiday over, office hours are back to normal, but I’ll give you tomorrow and Tuesday off. We’ll expect to see you bright and early Wednesday morning.”

  “Yes, sir.” If not for the weight of his dad’s hand on his shoulder and the brief squeeze from those strong fingers, the words would have sounded like punishment. Reading between the lines, though, Griff knew Jake was glad to have him back.

  “’Night, Mom.” He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for the terrific dinner. Best food I’ve had in, oh, about six months.”

  “Yes, well.” She gave him a hug, then stepped back. “Arden, I’ll be back in my classroom at seven-thirty tomorrow morning, but I’ll leave some breakfast at the house for whenever you’re hungry. There is a coffeepot with supplies in the cottage, and a few snacks if you should get hungry tonight.”

  “
Thank you, Mrs. Campbell. I’m so glad to be here.”

  Griff expected his mother to invite Arden to call her by her first name. But as the pause lengthened, he realized she wasn’t going to do that.

  “Let’s go rescue that dog of yours,” he told Arden. “’Night, everybody,” he called to the room at large.

  Then, finally, they were outside in the cool, crisp night, with Igor sniffing his way through the rye grass his dad always put down to keep the lawn green through the winter.

  “The fresh air smells good,” Griff said. “That was a long time to be closed up inside the house. After eight hours inside the car.”

  Beside him, Arden nodded. “Island life is different, isn’t it?”

  He nodded in turn. “There’s always a breeze.”

  “And clouds scudding across the sky, night or day.”

  “The splash of waves on sand and birdsongs in the trees.”

  “True.” She drew an audible breath, then blew it out in a cloud of white. “Still, your family is happy to get you back. They’ll be glad to support you through the ordeal of the wedding. I don’t think you really need me here at all.”

  “Oh, but I do.” He moved ahead of her onto the small porch of the guest cottage, pulled the screen door back and then pushed the front door open. His mother had left a lamp on the hall table switched on, so they didn’t have to step into darkness. “I couldn’t face my family, let alone the rest of the town, if you weren’t here.”

  Arden had shut the door behind her, and now leaned back against it. “But why, Griff? Your family knows how badly you were hurt when Zelda canceled the wedding. You don’t have to camouflage your feelings.”

  As Igor disappeared down the dark hallway on a sniffing expedition, Griff walked through the front of the house, turning on lights. “Living room, dining area, kitchen. I don’t want them feeling sorry for me.”

  She had followed him into the hallway. “Sympathy isn’t pity.”

  “I don’t want sympathy, either. This is the bedroom.” The lamplight showed pink and peach where he’d been expecting green. “Mom’s redecorated since I was here. That’s her stress reliever—wallpaper and paint. There’s a full bathroom attached.” He walked over to open the door.