“That’s enough time.”
“Not for me.”
She moaned, swaying toward him.
Putting his arms around her, he promised, “Later, we’ll have all night. Now, we need food and to move; we’re attracting attention.”
Priscilla glanced around, suddenly aware of several employees staring, and then looking away when she caught them. Warmth stole into her cheeks.
Facing Griff, she said, “That’s called a rain check, isn’t it?”
He chuckled. “Come on, Pixie. I’m starving.”
She slipped her hand in his, shivering at the feel of his warm skin and knowing how good his hands felt on her when he caressed her all through the night. Walking beside him through the store, she beamed at his large, comforting presence.
Being with him made it seem like nothing could go wrong.
Chapter 18
Nearly an hour later, Griff paid the bill and left a hefty tip at Marcus and his partner’s pub and grill. The busy, lively revamped place had caught on with the lunch crowd. Marcus had barely enough time to say hello, and then rush off to give the new cook their order.
“I’m stuffed,” she groaned, trying to move. “Grilled meatloaf sandwich is now on my all-time favorite list.”
“Along with how many others?” Griff asked with a smile in his voice.
“I’ll let you know when Bruno and I work our way through the new menu.” She giggled, heading out the door in front of him as he held it open.
A still running car in the street blocked the Vette at the curb.
Priscilla stopped in her tracks at the sight of the black limo. Her mother, holding her small white dog, exited, and then strode toward them. Her steely gaze trapped Priscilla, keeping her rooted to the spot.
Griffin stilled; his whole body stiffened. She could sense it. He must have become aware of standing in the way of the other departing customers; he gently guided her a few steps away. He kept his arm around her, holding her as she began to tremble.
“Mrs. King,” he said when she drew near. The dog strained toward Griff. “I’m sure you don’t want a scene.”
“You’re a fraud,” she nearly spat out, holding the dog back. “I will prove to the world you are nothing.”
His fingers tightened on Priscilla’s waist. She jumped in, saying, “Mother, did you follow us? Did you just come here to say that? You don’t know Griff.”
“You don’t need to defend me,” Griffin said mildly, but the muscles in his arm wrapped around her tightened even more. Actions spoke louder than words.
“You,” her mother said, looking her up and down, “are such a disappointment. You know nothing of who he is. You let him into this family. You exposed us to this riff-raff.”
“He’s my family.” Her words rang with conviction.
“Did you know he came to me, wanted to bargain?” Her smile stretched wide and she raised an eyebrow at Griffin.
“I don’t believe you,” Priscilla said. “Griff would never do that. He’s not like that. He’s not like you.”
Her mother’s face fell. Turning to Griffin, she said, “You will rue the day you crossed me. Mark my words.” To Priscilla, she said, “When all this falls apart, you will come crawling back to me.”
Her middle churned as she watched her mother march away. Her sister, Francie, had been right. If their mother couldn’t control something, she’d end up trying to destroy it. Priscilla realized this was only the beginning.
***
Griffin led a pale, shaking Priscilla into his office. “Peg, can you bring some hot tea?”
“Sure thing, Boss.” His assistant shot Priscilla a look, and then she scurried to the nearby cabinet in her office.
“I can’t believe she’d attack you like that,” Priscilla murmured again, leaning on him as she walked to the couch and then dropped down on it.
Mrs. King purposely followed them, he realized, setting him up in front of Priscilla. Of all the lines of attacks she could have taken, this wasn’t the one he thought she’d choose. His mind worked on two levels: First his overall concern for Priscilla and her reaction. The other ran through several scenarios of Agnes King’s next move.
In the scheme of things, this was not her style. She liked the spotlight. She liked to play the victim. But she’d opted for this, essentially a one-on-one confrontation. Now, Griff deduced she’d done it to gauge her control over her daughter. Did her word hold any merit?
Her fishing expedition accomplished nothing more than hurting his wife.
“Griff, why does she have to be like that?” She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with pain and confusion.