The pictures of Francine King Goode didn’t do her justice, he reasoned, as she sat beside her new mother-in-law—learning to knit, it appeared. He recalled the grainy newspaper photos of the wedding a few weeks ago.
There were roughly fifteen people in total, he assessed, not able to process all the details of them in such a brief glimpse before his hostess yanked his attention away.
“Don’t be afraid. We’re rather harmless,” Charlie said, leading him to her husband and her new brother-in-law talking near the bookshelf. “You remember Alex. Honey, you worked with Griff. And this is Marcus Goode—he’s taken over King’s for me.”
In turn, each man shook his hand. “It’s been a long time, Alex.”
“Griff, good to see you again.” The man hadn’t changed in appearance, but his eyes filled with love for his wife had.
Marcus waved to a smaller, more intimate area set up with four, large comfortable chairs in a circle. “We should talk first.”
“Business before pleasure,” Charlie agreed.
Alex kissed his wife on the forehead. “I’ll let you three alone.” He nodded to another man, obviously the father of the woman’s baby as he picked up the little one and kissed her cheek. The cries ended and cooing began. “Stu and I are practicing up on our poker game. Maybe we can beat Dolly one of these days.”
“I doubt that.” Charlie shivered. “She’s fierce.”
Before turning to leave, Griff looked back to the large room, attempting one last survey. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of Priscilla. Leaning back on the couch, she read a book to a curly-haired boy snuggled against her side and his obvious twin, who pushed a small car along the back length of the sofa. Something made them all laugh. His heart tugged.
She looked so damn natural with them. Adorable.
He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. She must have felt it; she jerked her head to look at him. Her mouth dropped open. No, she hadn’t expected to see him there.
For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t assumed she’d be here. It was her family. Why hadn’t he anticipated this meeting? What was happening to his usually sharp instincts?
“Can I get you a drink, honey?” Dolly came up to him, turning his attention away from his little strawberry blonde pixie. He noted Priscilla went back to reading to the boys. “Here, let me take your coat for you.” She practically took off his leather jacket, helping him shrug it off.
Griffin grabbed his cell phone and dumped it in his shirt pocket. There was no way he’d chance anyone seeing the information he had on it, especially about the King family. “Water will be fine. Thank you.”
“Water, smater.” She poked him in the belly. “You’re solid like a rock. No diet for you, not in my house. I’ll get you one of my specials.” She winked at him.
He grinned, not able to help himself. Looking up, he caught Priscilla’s gaze and her wisp of a smile. She’d seen.
A few minutes later, settled in one of the chairs facing the large room, Griffin made certain he had his back to the wall, a trait left over from his service days. No one could sneak up on him. However, glancing past Marcus’ right shoulder, he watched his pixie. Big mistake.
The cook came with a round of drinks on a tray. “I put a little bit of ginger in your water, honey; it’ll help your tummy,” she clucked as she handed Charlie her glass.
“Thanks, Dolly.”
“Marcus, honey, you and our guest, Mr. G., have my super-duper lemonade. No driving for at least two hours after, got it?” She nudged his arm.
Griffin stiffened as she put his glass on the table in front of him. “I don’t drink,” he said.
“Me neither. Makes me act all silly and stuff. More so than usual,” she whispered. “Just ask my Eddie. Nah, this stuff is high octane from the special blend of lemon, sugar, and my secret ingredient.” She stood back with her hands folded over her middle. “You try it and see.”
Tentatively, he sipped it. The tang of the lemons and overly sweet concoction and hint of cayenne pepper exploded on his tongue. “Very good,” he choked.
Marcus chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Rushing off, she said, “You call me when you’re done. I’ll be happy to get you a refill.”
Charlie said, “Life is not boring with Dolly around.” She kicked off her shoes, tucked her legs underneath her, and settled back in her chair. “Now, gentlemen, this shouldn’t take long. Marcus, do you want to start or should I?”