Taming McGruff (Book 3, Once Upon A Romance Series) (12 page)

Marrying Griffin would help her, too. As his wife, she’d avoid the antics, unrelenting pressure, and wrath of her mother. Or so she hoped.

***

Less than a half hour later, Bruno greeted her and Marcus at the door of King’s, unlocking it for them.

“Hope you got some for me, too, baby girl,” he said, smacking his lips.

“Pick your poison, my friend,” she said, holding out the box. He took it. “Not all of it.”

He and Marcus chuckled.

“All right, all right. What you got?” He read the names on the top. “Turkey club. Hot ham and cheese. BLT. Chicken parm. Oh, now you did it. I’m taking that one.”

“Good choice,” Marcus said, passing by them and heading toward the noisy crew.

“He’d have said that about any one of them,” she whispered. “But, it’s true. He and Dolly are the best.”

“You ain’t telling me anything new.” He patted his round belly. “I’ve been testing her recipes for decades now. I even offered Mr. Marcus and his partner I’d be more than willing to taste test any new recipe at their new place.”

“Dang, I’ve gotta get in on that deal.” She grabbed for the box. “Gotta go. But you and me have a date for the next round of new recipes.”

“Quit sweet-talking me, now. I’m a married man.”

She almost let it slip that in a few short days she’d be a married woman.

***

Her admiration for Griff grew. His leadership shone. Diagrams of the finished floor plan, taped to a free standing board along with a to-do checklist on a long roll of paper, kept the project on time. Scheduled breaks, with drinks and snacks provided, and dinner from Marcus and his partner’s new place, delighted the crew and gave them incentive to press on through the long night and into the morning hours until their shift change.

“I’m impressed,” she said as she cleared off the makeshift tables lining the marble foyer.

“The end justifies the means,” Griff said, nodding to the happy workers going back to the job. He took a pile of empty containers from her and dumped them in the trash a few yards away.

That statement sent a trickle of alarm through her middle. Looking up at him as he walked back to her side, she asked, “Is that your motto? Even for us?”

Standing there in his gray T-shirt, jeans, and work boots, no one would have believed he wasn’t just another laborer. He picked up a nail gun, moved boxes and piles of debris, and lent a hand anywhere that he thought he could help. He could have been just one of the guys. But Priscilla knew different.

Sexy, strong, incredibly capable, Griffin James stood out from the others. His drive and determination fueled him.

“What do you think?”

She mulled it over for a few moments. “Yes.”

He shrugged. “You have your answer.”

“Griff—”

“Three months. That’s all.”

“No steam-rolling me?” She wanted his assurance.

“As if I could,” he muttered. “I think it’s the other way around, if you ask me.”

***

Griffin, dog-tired and sore, stood back from the covered glass doors of the new salon. He had moved mountains to get this done. Now, late Sunday night, he’d accomplished his goal, under time and under budget.

He’d checked and rechecked the finished product. And, finally satisfied, he’d sent the construction crew home with the promise of a bonus for each member since they’d pitched in and re-did the adjacent jewelry department without hesitation when asked.

Charlie, Francine, and Priscilla held hands and waited anxiously for the big reveal. The King sisters deserved this moment together.

“Ready?” he asked, trying to avoid looking at Priscilla too long and too intensely. That proved difficult.

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“We’ll leave the curtain up until tomorrow morning when we show the employees, so watch your step. No peeking.”

Griff led the way and just before he entered, he checked to see if they had their eyes closed. Priscilla peeked through her fingers. He raised his eyebrow. She stuck her tongue out, and then closed her fingers. He smiled.

He made sure each sister was safely inside before he said, “Welcome to the Charmings’ Beauty Bar.”

Gasps and squeals followed.

“I can’t believe this is the same place,” Francine said. “I love the fuchsia walls, black stations, and mirror frames…”

Priscilla wandered the large open room and gazed about in awe. Now in the middle of the room, she twirled about. “The drawings were never this stunning!”

He watched her, unable to breathe, unable to move. Her joy beamed from her. The crystal chandelier above her sparkled, light dancing over her.
His pixie
.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Griff,” Charlie said, following Priscilla’s path through the salon slower and with more inspection. “The detail is outstanding,” she murmured.

“I love it,” Francine said. “It’s the perfect complement to the Charmings Wedding Boutique.” She rushed to Priscilla and hugged her. “Great idea you had of tying them together, sis.”

Griffin smiled as the two started an impromptu dance, taking turns twirling each other around.

Charlie came up to him then and nudged him. “It’s good to see them so happy. We should take pictures.”

“I’ve got the professionals coming in an hour before we reveal to the employees.”

“No, I mean of them, of all of us.” She turned to him. “This is our new beginning. For a happy life. After all these years – struggling, tugs-of-war with their mother, financial instability—the store has taken a turn. And so have we, the King daughters. Daddy would be thrilled we’re finally coming into our own.”

Something inside Griff’s middle turned over. Would she and her sisters be so happy once he’d completed his mission of destroying Agnes King and staining the family name forever?

***

Gazing into the full-length mirror in the bride’s changing room just off the vestibule, Priscilla cupped her hands over her mouth and held back a squeal of delight. “Oh, my gosh,” she said, turning to her left and then her right.

Her wedding dress couldn’t be compared to any other. The green satin shift molded to her body, but the shimmery copper threads in the gauzy fabric of the dress-length cover-up played up her hair and the multi-colored hues of greens and purples in the garment. The long loose sleeves, fitted bodice, and deep V neckline reminded her of a fairy’s dress. Or pixie, she thought Griff would say. She giggled.

A knock on the door yanked her back to the moment. “Come in,” she called, turning away from her reflection. She held her breath, knowing it could only be one of a select few invited guests standing on the other side.

The doorknob turned. The door opened, its hinges squeaking just a tad. “Hello, anybody I know?” Rico asked, poking his head in. When he spotted her, he shoved open the door all the way. It banged against the wall. His mouth fell open, and then closed. “Shut up!”

Priscilla nodded. “Surprise! I’m the bride.”

He shrieked, rushing to her. Rico picked her up, nearly knocking her out of her sparkly high heels. She held on tightly as he swung her around. “O-M-G! That’s why you begged me to help you find a dress the other day. And you said it was for a party.” Suddenly, he set her down and held her at arm’s length. “Who’s the groom?”

“Griffin.”

“Oh,” he held his hands out, “oh, what a divine hunk of man.” He shivered. “He gives me chills.”

“Me, too,” she admitted.

A frown gathered between his brows. “You two are hot, I mean really H-O-T together, some kinda sizzling energy just standing next to you guys. But, girl, are you sure? I thought marriage was the last thing on your mind. And who am I going to drag along to parties now?”

“Rico? Is that you?” Francine called, peeking around the corner. “Priscilla? What are you doing here? I got a call. Last- minute wedding. Did someone call you, too?”

“Francie, who are you talking to?” Charlie asked, coming up behind her.

Her sisters stopped asking questions and gawked at her. “Where are Alex and Marcus?” Priscilla asked.

“Right here,” Alex said.

Marcus whistled when he saw her. “Prissy, what’s going on here?”

“Honey?” Dolly asked, standing in the doorway with Eddie close on her heels.

Priscilla swallowed hard. Rico slid beside her, squeezing her hand. She gripped it as she faced her family. “Peg called you all here, not knowing what was going on.”

“Well, hell’s bells,” Peg said, pushing through the couples near the door. “Let me in, will ya?” She pulled up short when she saw Priscilla. “Mamma mia, what a spicy meatball!”

That caused everyone to laugh, easing the tension.

“I’ll explain, as best I can.” Priscilla took a deep, cleansing breath. “I’m getting married. Tonight.”

“Now?” Peg asked, holding her ever present clipboard to her chest. “You’re the bride? Well, holy macaroni, who’s the gro—” She clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head.

“Peg, what is it?” Charlie asked.

Priscilla glanced at Peg and nodded. “Yep, that’s him.”

“Who, him?” Francie asked.

“Griffin James.”

Silence reigned. Then they all began to speak at once. Questions flew. Charlie and Francie stepped near, confronting her.

“You just met him,” Francie said.

Rico chimed in, “That didn’t stop you and Marcus.” He pointed a finger at Charlie, saying, “Or you and Alex.” He shrugged. “So what’s the diff?”

Marcus said, “I’m going to find Griff.”

“I’ll go with you,” Alex said.

“Me, too,” Edward agreed.

When they exited, Priscilla looked from her stepsister to her sister. “I can’t explain it any more than either of you could, too. I just know it’s right.”

“Oh, no,” Charlie groaned. “There’s no turning back now.”

Francie sighed. “Nope. No way out.”

“Isn’t that wonderful?” Priscilla asked, smiling as they realized the truth. The King daughters were destined to follow their hearts, wherever that may lead. She crossed her fingers, praying hers wouldn’t come out tattered when her three months ended.

***

With the ring of flowers settled on her head and a bouquet of flowers in one hand, Priscilla tucked her arm through Rico’s. “Ready, friend?”

“Girl, promise you won’t change on me?” He sniffled, dabbing his eyes.

“Never,” she said with a fierceness from inside.

“All right, but you have to swear you’ll give me away someday, too.”

“Try to stop me.”

She was still smiling as they made their way down the chapel’s small aisle. Looking up, she gasped at the sight of Griff standing at the altar, waiting for her.
Tall. Powerful. Sexy
.

***

Griffin stilled. Priscilla took his breath away. The fairy dress, the flowers, the dainty heels were perfect for his sexy, strawberry blonde, green-eyed girl. He knew for the rest of his life he’d remember her like this. His beautiful pixie.

When she drew near, he held out his hand. Rico took it instead, asking, “Why couldn’t it be me?”

The guests laughed.

Chuckling, Griff shook his hand and relaxed. The grilling he’d taken from her brothers-in-law less than a half hour ago had him rethinking the last-minute invitations. However, Priscilla refused to get married without her family by her side. He’d relented.

“Pixie,” he said in a soft voice as she stepped toward him.

“Griff,” she whispered, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

Those eyes, wide and lit from within, held light and hope.

He only wished he could live up to those expectations. Somehow he doubted it.

The minister, who came with the chapel, performed a heartfelt ceremony, making Griff wonder what in the world he was doing. A spark of guilt flashed, and then extinguished.

He had to protect her.

“Repeat after me,” the balding man of the cloth said to Priscilla. “I, Priscilla King, take thee, Griffin James, to be my lawful wedded husband…”

“I, Priscilla King, take thee, Griffin James.” Staring into his eyes, she leaned close and whispered, “Aka McGruff—”

He laughed.

She grinned.

“Pixie,” he said softly, feeling the stones surrounding the fortress to his heart shift.

Within minutes, he slipped a delicate wedding band on her finger, and then an engagement ring. The center emerald sat among a circle of diamonds. Her gasp of delight warmed him.

Her surprise extended when he handed her a gold ring to place on his finger. His gesture proclaimed, loud and clear, he belonged to her. A fierce pride shook him at the thought.

He cupped her face between his palms and with stunning awe, he gently kissed her lips, making them man and wife.

No matter what happened in the next few months, he could hang onto the fact that, for one brief moment, they were linked together, entwined in time. She, Priscilla King, had accepted him into her life and into her heart. For a very long time, no one else had ever made him feel that wanted.

***

Sensing her nervousness when they entered his house later that night, he said, “I have a surprise for you.”

“Another one?” She shivered. Gingerly, she removed the crown of flowers and placed them on the kitchen counter, and then fluffed her hair.

“You’ll like this one,” he assured her.

“I’ve liked all of them so far.”

He held out his hand to her. With a slight hesitation, she took it. He laced his fingers through her cold ones, realizing she’d begun to tremble. His heart hitched.

But his body hummed with anticipation at the night to come. He wanted her. The ache had grown beyond comprehension. “I don’t bite,” he said softly, pointing out she may be holding his hand while walking to his study, but she kept nearly two feet between them.

She sighed. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “I’ve never been with a man before.”

How could he ease her anxiety? “Well, you’ve already slept with me. First night we met. A little presumptuous of you, too, don’t you think?”