A Convenient Proposal

by Lynnette Kent

  Arden stayed by the doorway into the hall. “She said she was very worried when you left. That you didn’t call or email.”

  Griff thrust his hands in his pockets. “What was I going to say? ‘Having a miserable time, glad you aren’t here’?”

  Shaking his head, he joined her in the doorway. “Tonight, because of you, I wasn’t the prodigal son, coming home to be forgiven and taken care of.” He set his hands on her shoulders. “Instead, I came home proud, bringing with me a lovely woman who, as far as they know, is crazy about me. We’re deeply in love and planning a perfect life together. I may have left town a failure, but I came back a winner.”

  She wrapped her fingers around his wrists. “They’re not completely convinced, you know. Your sisters, your mother and dad—they’re still suspicious.”

  “So we’ll convince them.” Griff bent his head to breathe in the citrus scent of Arden’s hair, then lingered to kiss her smooth forehead. “If I stay here for a while, that should help.” He brushed his mouth over her temple, her cheekbone and the curve of her jaw. “How would you like to spend the time?”

  Her breathing had changed. “Parcheesi? Backgammon?”

  “Right.” He released her and started down the hallway. “I think there’s a set in the living room—”

  “You’re not going anywhere.” She gripped his elbow to stop him, then pulled him around to face her.

  Not that Griff made it hard. He’d only been teasing.

  So she was smiling as her arms circled his neck. “How about spin the bottle?”

  He folded his arms around her waist. “Let’s skip the bottle part.”

  “Good idea.”

  Still he paused a moment, studying the flecks of green in her gray eyes and anticipating the pleasure promised by her soft, rosy mouth…until, with a desperate little sound, Arden dragged his head down and pressed her lips against his.

  Relief swamped him first—he wasn’t in this thing alone, thank God. Then desire surged through him and he drowned in it, pulling Arden tight against him to indulge all of his many fantasies about kissing her. Her sweet mouth surrendered and he took full advantage, tasting and stroking, groaning with pleasure as she made her own demands, satisfied her own needs.

  She wore an ocean-green cashmere sweater that seemed to disappear beneath his palms…but not quite, so he slipped one hand underneath to find her skin every bit as silky as he’d anticipated. The new jeans he’d admired because they were tight meant he couldn’t do the same at her waist, but he smoothed a hand over the curve of her hip and the swell of her bottom and was rewarded when she pressed her belly even closer to his. Then she lifted her knee to the outside of his thigh and he pretty much lost his mind. The sane part of it, anyway.

  Strong and hard and sure…he felt like an anchor to Arden, a rock she could cling to while her head spun and her knees dissolved. His hands moved on her body, a glorious, intimate pressure she wanted to feel on every inch of her skin. Or that might be his mouth, instead, exploring the arch of her neck and the curl of her ear.

  Clearly, they both had too many clothes on, because she couldn’t get his shirttail out of his jeans fast enough to satisfy her craving for the feel of his flesh beneath her fingertips. She needed him closer, needed his weight on top of her to bear down against the aches he was creating there, down low, with just the press of his palm over her breast….

  “Ow!” He jerked away, staggering back against the other wall of the hallway. “Damn it, what is your problem?”

  Dropped all the way to ground zero, Arden sagged against the door frame, panting and staring. “Wh-what?”

  Griff paid no attention. He was shaking his leg, trying to detach the dog’s jaws clamped around his calf.

  “Igor!” She grabbed his bright green collar and pulled. “Bad dog, Igor. Release. Stop it.”

  “Ow!” Griff put out his hands. “He’s got his teeth in my leg. Don’t shake him anymore. Talk to him calmly. Try coaxing him away.”

  “Igor.” Arden knelt beside the dog, stroking his sides and back. “Igor, let go. Good boy, come on, good boy. You made him stop. That’s a good doggy, Igor. Let’s get a treat.”

  Though it seemed to take forever, once Griff stood still, Igor finally backed off.

  “Now follow through,” Griff told Arden. “Give him a treat.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Sure.” He straightened and took a deep breath. “But maybe I should head back up to the house.”

  “Um…okay.”

  He gave a half smile. “Maybe Igor could stay in the kitchen while I make my getaway?”

  Arden took the dog to the kitchen and gave him a chew bone, then made sure both doors to the room were shut.

  “I am so sorry,” she said as she joined Griff at the front door. “He has had all his vaccinations.” She eyed the rip in Griff’s jeans. “Maybe you should see a doctor tonight, though. Dog bites—”

  He straightened up from leaning against the wall. “Are an occupational hazard for veterinarians. Don’t worry about me.” With a knuckle under her chin, he lifted her face to his for a restrained kiss. “I’m just sorry we were interrupted. You pack a powerful punch, Ms. Arden Burke.”

  She felt her cheeks heat with a blush. “So do you. I hope…” Taking a deep breath, she finished quickly. “I hope we’ll pick up where we left off. Soon.”

  Instead of smiling, as she expected, he gave her a serious, searching look. “Me, too. G’night,” he added, giving her a last caress. “Sleep as late as you want and come up to the house when you’re ready.”

  “I will.”

  She closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. Those moments in Griff’s arms had amazed her—outside her music, she’d never before been so lost in the pleasure of the moment. Her mind had been completely overcome by her body’s reaction to Griff’s touch.

  That reaction, she hoped, would burn itself out once they’d made love a few times. She couldn’t afford to become dependent on him for sex, or for anything else—his consideration, his gentleness, his encouragement and protection, for instance. She’d be living her life alone, fending for herself and, she hoped, a child.

  Griff Campbell was simply a pleasant—well, more than pleasant—means to an end. As she released Igor from the kitchen and got ready for bed, Arden promised herself she would remember that fact.

  Because if she didn’t, this entire effort would become yet another exercise in despair.

  GRIFF LIMPED AROUND the yard for a while, letting the frigid darkness serve as tonight’s version of a cold shower. He visited the near pastures, but the horses stayed away, unsure of his identity in the dark. When the throb in his calf had overcome the unsatisfied ache in his belly, he allowed himself to head back to the house.

  Wearing his shirt and boxers, he was sitting on the side of the tub in the downstairs back bathroom, scrubbing Igor’s teeth marks with soap and hot water, when his dad appeared at the doorway.

  Jake leaned against the door frame. “Run into a wild coon outside?”

  “Just an overprotective canine.” Griff turned off the water. “Can you hand me a towel?” When his dad reached for the pale peach one hanging within his reach, Griff shook his head. “You know Mom doesn’t want blood on her good linens. I need one of the everyday towels.”

  “Right.” His dad stepped into the laundry room and came back with the appropriate cloth. “Doesn’t look too deep. You might want some antibiotics, though, since it’s more puncture than scrape.”

  “Yeah. He had a pretty good hold of me, even through the jeans. Which are now useful for painting in and not much else. Brand-new, too.”

  “The world well lost for love.”

  “Right.” With his skin dry, Griff applied antibiotic ointment and gauze pads, then rolled tape around his calf to hold things in place. “I suspect I’ll survive.”

  “Love, or the dog bite?”

  His dad, Griff realized, had stayed up to investigate. Time to be
careful about what he said. “The dog bite. Love is always fatal, I believe. Don’t we all die still loving somebody?”

  “If we’re lucky. You seem to have found a replacement for Zelda pretty fast. Sure it’s not just a rebound romance?”

  “Oh, yeah.” His dad didn’t need to know exactly why he was so sure. “Arden is a fantastic person. I think you’ll realize that as you get to know her.”

  He wasn’t lying with that one, but he felt as if a huge bell had rung inside his chest, and the vibrations just kept going and going….

  “I hope so. She’s certainly beautiful. A little quiet, I thought. Not comfortable in a crowd.”

  “I’m sure Mom told you she’s not from a big family. Our hordes of cousins would scare anybody.”

  “True. They’re mostly your mother’s family.” They shared a grin, because that was the standard line. Anything wrong always happened on the other side of the family. “Well, I’ll look forward to the quieter times when we can get to know your Arden better.”

  Griff picked up his ripped jeans and dirty towel and followed his dad out of the bathroom. The shadowed hallway provided good cover for anything his face might give away. “Me, too.”

  “So did you get to do any real work while you were down in the islands? Or did you drink the time away?”

  “I volunteered for different clinics and rescue groups, when I could find them. There are some marine animal facilities scattered around, all still dealing with the aftermath of the oil spill and the last few hurricanes.”

  “Not a total waste of time, then.” Jake headed toward the master bedroom.

  Griff watched the door close behind his dad, knowing he shouldn’t let that last comment go unchallenged. But why start an argument his first night home?

  He climbed the stairs to his room, instead, and settled into the bed he’d slept in since he was ten, where he’d hidden magazines of various kinds under the mattress and dreamed about everything from hot cars and hot music to hot women.

  Apparently, he had one of those on his hands right now. Under Arden Burke’s cool exterior burned a fierce fire. After so long alone, Griff had a pretty good inferno going, himself. Together, they could burn up the night. Many nights, he hoped.

  With the dog locked away somewhere else.

  As he punched his pillow into shape, though, Griff reminded himself to be careful. The lady wanted something from him—that’s why she’d come along. This wasn’t a friend doing him a favor. Arden wanted him to make a baby for her. Quid pro quo.

  So getting too involved would leave him in the same place Zelda’s defection had. But he didn’t want another woman to miss, or a relationship to mourn. Good times, salvaged pride and an easy goodbye—surely that wasn’t too much to ask.

  And if it was, he was tired enough that even his doubts couldn’t keep him awake tonight.

  OVER BREAKFAST the next morning, Griff offered to take Arden into town. “I can show you off to the populace, in line with our agenda, and you can tour the booming metropolis of Sheridan, Georgia.”

  “Can we walk?” She took a deep breath of crisp air when they stepped outside. “It’s a beautiful day, not too cold at all.”

  He squinted, as if measuring the distance. “Depends on how long you want to walk. We’re about three miles from the middle of town.”

  A glance down at the knee-high boots she’d bought just yesterday dampened her enthusiasm. “Um, maybe not this time.”

  “So, we can drive the Jag. Or…” He lifted a questioning eyebrow.

  “Or?”

  “We could ride my bike.”

  Arden took a quick breath, hardly daring to hope. “As in motorcycle?”

  “As in Harley.”

  She clapped her hands. “Oh, yes. Please?”

  Griff pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket. “I hoped you’d say that.”

  In a matter of minutes, she was straddling the motorcycle at his back, arms around his waist and the wind in her face. “This is glorious,” she called over his shoulder. “I’ve always wanted to ride a Harley.”

  “Glad I could be your first,” he yelled back, with that mischievous, slanted grin she was beginning to look for.

  Griff piloted them to the center of town and found a parking place along a tree-lined street with quaint storefronts on each side. At one end stood an impressive brick courthouse with white columns and a white steeple on top. At the other end, long stretches of lawn and huge, leafless trees surrounded the statue of a mounted soldier.

  “Here we are,” Griff said, removing his own helmet and holding a hand out for hers. “Beautiful, anachronistic Sheridan, Georgia. Population eight thousand, give or take a few. Home to the last remnants of the antebellum South.”

  “Lovely.” Arden noticed the live pine garlands swagged across front porches, the wreaths made of real magnolia leaves and holly sprigs, all of them tied with red bows. “I’m sure it’s wonderful at Christmas.”

  “Of course. The different church choirs come together on Christmas Eve to sing carols on the courthouse lawn.” He motioned up and down the street. “Folks stroll around with hot cider and cookies, greeting their neighbors. It’s a scene straight out of—”

  He broke off, then swore under his breath. “I don’t believe this. Not first thing.”

  Arden looked around. “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t see anything dangerous, or unusual. Just a pair of women walking toward them on the sidewalk. Mother and daughter, judging from appearances, busy in conversation. Both of them were pretty blondes, well-dressed and with perfect makeup. They didn’t notice Griff until they almost ran into him.

  The younger woman looked up at that moment. Her face went white and her jaw dropped. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

  “You know I hate it when you use that expression,” her mother said, still focused on a notepad in her hand. Then she, too, looked at Griff. Arden worried for a second that she might actually faint.

  Griff nodded to the older woman. “Hello, Mrs. Talbot. Happy New Year.”

  Then he took a deep breath and looked directly at the daughter. “I have somebody I’d like y’all to meet.” Reaching out, he drew Arden close to his side. “This is my new fiancée, Arden Burke.”

  His arm felt like iron around her shoulders. “Arden, this is Mrs. Talbot. And my former fiancée, her daughter Zelda.”

  Chapter Five

  “How do you do?” Arden realized that the phrase really didn’t make much sense in this day and age. But at least she’d said something. “Nice to meet you” really wouldn’t have worked.

  Griff’s ex-fiancée was having more trouble. Her gaze had not left his face, except for a brief flicker in Arden’s direction. Her mouth kept opening and closing, reminding Arden of her one visit to Sea World.

  Zelda cleared her throat. “Where have you been?” Her voice remained hoarse. “Your family has been worried sick.”

  “Thanks for your concern, but we’re all doing well.” Griff’s half smile—in fact, his whole face—seemed frozen. “I understand you’ll be walking down the aisle on Valentine’s Day.”

  “That’s right.” Zelda lifted her chin. “We’re mailing the invitations this week. I’ll be sure you get one.”

  “Don’t forget to write ‘and guest’ on the envelope. I wouldn’t want Arden to sit home by herself that night.”

  “Of course not.” Zelda flashed a brittle smile. “I’ll have to tell Al you’re back in town. He’ll be watching out for you.” She took hold of Mrs. Talbot’s arm. “Now, if y’all will excuse us, we’ve got a dress fitting.”

  With a tug, she started her mother along the sidewalk at a fast march. Looking back over her shoulder, she said, “Nice to meet you,” but turned away quickly before Arden could reply.

  Keeping his arm around her shoulders, Griff began walking in the opposite direction. Arden had no choice but to go along, almost jogging to keep up with his long, fast strides.

  As they approached an intersection
, she thought he might plunge blindly into the street, so she leaned backward and planted her feet, hoping to slow him down, at least.

  “Griff,” she said at the same time. “Griff, stop.”

  To her relief, he did. After a couple of seconds, his arm fell to his side and he turned to her. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?”

  “Are you?”

  He wiped a hand over his face. “I could use a drink, but I’m not going to find one in this town until after noon. How about more coffee—or tea, hot chocolate, whatever—and a big dose of something sweet?”

  “Lead the way.”

  A few steps took them to the door of the shop on the corner, which he opened. “This is Patty’s Place. As a little kid, Miss Patty started baking goodies with her parents. Now she runs the shop, along with her daughters, Pam and Peg, and her husband Pete.”

  Arden gave him a skeptical look. He crossed his heart with a finger and then held up his hand. “I swear. Their last name is Pierson.”

  She followed him to an empty table, where he pulled out a white wrought-iron chair for her. “I suppose Patty and Pete couldn’t help falling in love. Or that his name was Pierson.”

  Griff nodded as he sat down. “And once it’s gone that far, why not have fun?”

  “True.” Glancing around, Arden noticed the curtains on the windows, printed with purple and yellow pansies on a background of purple stripes. The walls of the shop had been painted a pale lavender and hung with large flower posters in which one color predominated. The menu, clipped into a holder in the center of the glass-topped table, had been printed and bordered in that same color.

  “Purple,” she said, looking at Griff. “Patty, Pete, Peg and Pam like purple.”

  His true, relaxed grin finally appeared. “When life hands you lemons…”

  “Make grape juice?”

  He laughed. “Exactly.”

  Before the echo of his laughter had died away, a young woman scurried up to their table. “Griff Campbell—welcome home!” She leaned over to give him a hug. “When did you get back?”