Taming McGruff(70)

And he’d listened to her, allowing her to make her own choices. Lady’s choice.

All the while, she’d witness the tug-of-war in him, in his gray eyes. He was at battle with himself. Revenge versus redemption.

Griffin James had chosen the latter.

She’d been taken aback by his selfless act of handing over the hidden documents and the real will. He didn’t have to. He didn’t have to confess his finding the secret panels. He could have opened the envelopes, taken it all, and gone to the authorities with the evidence to clear his father’s name and salvage his damaged reputation while unleashing his revenge on her mother. He hadn’t.

Her McGruff put aside everything he’d ever dreamed of and protected her and her sisters from untoward scrutiny and scandal, unlike what her mother had done to his father. In his own unorthodox way, Griffin had unknowingly carried on his father’s honorable promise of guarding the King daughters.

You make me feel safe and cared for.

Because you are.

But could she forgive him for all he’d done? Could she live with the regret if she never did?



***



Less than an hour later, she stood at his front door, ringing the bell. Her middle did flip-flops. The door swung open; her heart sank at the cold, hard expression on Griffin’s face.

“Did you forget something?” he asked, placing a hand on the doorframe, essentially barring her entrance. His tone, short and clipped, sliced through her.

“Yes, I did.” Her voice wobbled.

“Your ride’s leaving.” He nodded to the departing car, the red glow of taillights disappearing around the corner.

“Edward and Charlie dropped me off. I told them not to wait.”

“That was a mistake.”

“Can I come in?” she asked, holding up the takeout bag. “I brought Chinese.”

He cursed. But he did drop his hand and let her in. “What kind of game are you playing, Priscilla?”

“None, Griffin.”

His formality frightened her. Was it a mistake to come here?

He let her lead the way, but she turned and went into his study instead of going to the kitchen. She nearly stumbled when she spotted the jukebox. It was everything she’d imagined. “Oh, a fire,” she said lamely, going to the hearth, sitting down, and then placing the takeout bag beside her. She recalled what he’d said about her hair and skin in the firelight. Looking up, she saw the heat in his eyes. She relaxed.

“You are playing with fire.” His low warning stirred something inside her.

“You’re trying to protect me. Again.”

“It’s not working, is it?”

She shook her head.

“Why are you here? I’ve said my goodbye already.” His voice caught on the word goodbye.

No one stays. That phrase echoed in her mind and made her heart ache. “I didn’t say mine,” she countered. “In fact, I like it here. I like living here. I like being married to you,” she whispered the last, stunned at her own admission. It wasn’t a cage; it was a liberation. His love allowed her to express herself, to be comfortable with who she was and whatever she longed to become. It was a heady type of freedom she never knew could exist between two people. He’d given that to her, unselfishly.

He sat down on the ottoman facing her, his hands lightly clasped in front of him. “What are you saying?”

She could get lost in his luminous gray eyes, now filled with light and love. Reaching out, she parted his hands and leaned her arms on his thighs, she said, “I forgive you, Griffin James. I know you must have hurt for so long and so deeply. I know how lost and alone you must have felt.” Teardrops fell. He brushed them away.

“It’s over. No more going backwards for me.”

“For us?”

“Lady’s choice,” he said, holding his breath.

“No more lies,” she demanded. “Spoken or unspoken.”

“I’m done.”

“Forget the three-month probationary period.”

“I can accept a life sentence with you,” he said softly.

“Stay at the store, please. We need you there.”

“Do I get a reward?” He smiled. “Say, you, for instance.”

She touched his face, his strong jaw, and then traced her thumb over his bottom lip. “I think I’m the one getting the reward. My dreams come true.”

“Ones you didn’t even know you had.”

“You, too.” She knew he’d never dreamed of this before.

“Are you ever going to kiss me?” he growled.

“My McGruff,” she whispered, touching her lips to his, and then pulling back slightly.

“Pixie,” he said softly.

It was music to her ears. Just as good as him telling her he loved her.