A Man for the Summer (23 page)
Read A Man for the Summer Online
Authors: Ruby Laska
Tags: #Small Town, #Romance, #Contemporary Romance
“Look, Griff, what the heck has gotten into the two of you? Junior was around here the other night acting all weird—”
“She was over there?” Griff bit his lip. So that’s where she’d been hiding out.
“Yeah, you know, for dinner. I mean, do all the crafts you want, you know. Knock yourself out, the girls’ll love it. But I gotta tell you, I got Junior acting like a lovesick teenager and you acting like a camp counselor, I gotta wonder if you all don’t need some sort of professional help or something.”
Griff smiled. “Gee, Teddy, I hadn’t pegged you as the sensitive guy type.”
“Can it, Ross. All’s I’m saying is that you and Junior sure are going about this in a kind of unusual way, you have to admit.”
“Just what kind of way—”
“Don’t get all bent, now. Look, if you’re wondering if you ought to ask my permission or something, don’t worry about it. You can have her. Anyway I’ll bring the gals over in twenty. I have to get the syrup out of their hair.”
“Okay, great,” Griff said, hanging up.
Syrup in the hair. That sounded nasty, indeed. Maybe, by the time he had to deal with it, they’d come up with a handbook or something.
“Damn, damn, damn, damn,” Junior muttered, pacing from the Hoagland’s hydrangea bush to the crack in the sidewalk and back. “Oh, hey, Trevor.”
Trevor screeched his bike to a halt inches from her feet, kicking up a spray of gravel. He looked at her with a very self-satisfied grin dividing his freckled face.
“Hey, Junior. Were you talking to yourself?”
Junior frowned, as sternly as she could manage, and worked her tense shoulders in circles. “Naw, I was cussing to myself. There’s a difference.”
“Uh huh. I guess. Well, Mom sent me on over.”
Junior stopped circling and sighed.
“Your mom sent you to find me?”
“Not really. I mean, she knew exactly where you were. We can see you from the upstairs bathroom.” Trevor jerked a thumb in the direction of his house, a block over. “Mom was doing her eyebrows. Hey, does that hurt?”
“Does what hurt?”
“Pulling the hair out of your eyebrows. I mean, seems like it would hurt.”
Junior managed a small smile. “Hurts like hell, Trevor. But you know women. We’ll do anything for beauty.”
Trevor nodded sagely as if, at the age of ten, he knew women all too well.
“So anyway, mom says to tell you quit draggin’ your feet and go on in.”
“She did, huh?” Junior sighed heavily.
“Yeah, she says to tell you he’s home and you might ought to strike while the iron is hot.”
“No kidding.”
“Yup. And she also said she didn’t know what you was thinking parking down at the end of the street like that when you have a perfectly good driveway of your own.”
“Except I bet you weren’t supposed to tell me that part.”
Trevor grinned. “Nah.”
“Okay, Trev, I owe you one.”
The pair stood for a minute in silence. Trevor jammed his hands in his back pocket and followed Junior’s gaze over to the house.
“You want my advice?” he finally said.
Junior laughed. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “What have I got to lose?”
“I think you might as well let him stay,” Trevor said. “Everybody says he’s rich, but I don’t even care. I just think he’s pretty nice.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Well, you know, stuff he does. Like, he always talks to us, doesn’t just walk by kids like we’re not there. I ran over his foot with my bike once and he didn’t make a huge deal about it. And he told Joe’s brother he could practice for his driver’s test on his car since it was just a rental anyway.”
“Ahhhhh.” Junior considered. Not bad reasons, she supposed. Especially since she had no idea why she was pacing around trying to talk herself into going to talk to him.
“Anyway, Mom just wanted you to get a move on,” Trevor reminded her, getting back on his bike and careening back the way he came. “See you.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Junior took a deep breath, fully aware that Trevor’s mother was probably watching her every move. She started marching purposefully toward her house. Up the steps.
The door was cracked open. Junior let herself in and looked around. It was better. There were piles now, at least, and a path swept through the plaster dust.
From the kitchen she heard giggling.
“Hello?” she called.
“Don’t come in here, Aunt Junior!” A squeaky voice commanded.
“Give us five minutes!” added Griff’s voice. Then more giggles.
He didn’t sound the least bit shaken. On the contrary, his voice was deep and full of life.
He poked his head around the corner and he was smiling, a big, broad grin that somehow went just fine with the two days of stubble and the hair that was going in the wrong direction and dusted with flecks of glitter.
“Hi,” he said.
Junior opened her mouth but couldn’t think of anything to say. She tugged at the fabric of her skirt and took a half step toward him. And then retreated a step.
“Me and the girls are just finishing up a little project. It’s a surprise. Why don’t you sit on that chair. I cleared it off.”
Junior turned to see where he pointed. Sure enough, one of the old armchairs was free of clutter and looked relatively clean, its threadbare velvet dusted off.
“But—”
“Just wait. Please?” Griff turned up the heat on his grin and narrowed his eyes slightly. He let his glance travel over her, taking his time before returning to meet her eyes head on. Junior felt her pulse quicken at the dark intensity in his gaze. “It’s important.”
“All—all right.”
She sank in the chair, and listened. What on earth were the girls doing here? There was the sound of chairs scraping, of objects clunking on the table, of excited whispering.
Even if Jayce and Margaret were enjoying themselves, Junior decided she would let Teddy have it next time she saw him. No doubt he dropped off the twins on his way to do errands, something he did most Saturdays, but didn’t he know better than to leave them with Griff?
Not that Griff wouldn’t keep the girls safe, of course. He wasn’t stupid, and she knew from experience that he took his obligations seriously.
But he seemed to be having entirely more fun with them than she ever would have expected. Among the laughter and babble, it was Griff’s voice she heard excitedly rising and falling, his tone alternating between teasing and praising.
“Atta girl, that’s gonna knock her socks off,” he crowed. “Here. Gimme a high five.”
He almost sounded like he was
born
to it. Like he’d been hanging around little kids for ages.
Kind of like with Carlton.
A pang of guilt shot through Junior. She’d been too hard on Griff for his handling of the teen. He’d treated the boy well, taking care to respect his feelings and put him at ease. The rest—well, Junior had to admit it was, in the grand scheme of things, not such a huge lapse in judgment.
Griff lacked judgment, sometimes, but the uncomfortable fact gnawed at her that when it came to kids good judgment was mostly the product of experience. And Griff didn’t have any. Was it really fair to expect the man to be perfect from the start?
Wasn’t he in there now, part Peter Pan and part favorite uncle and some little part sounding way too much like a man who
loves kids
—
Two small figures came flying into the living room, slamming into her knees and wrapping their arms tightly around her waist. Junior automatically returned their hug and pulled them up into the big old chair until the girls were heaped on top of her in a giggling, wiggling mass.
Griff appeared in the living room, stepping cautiously through the rubble.
“You—you have stuff in your hair,” Junior breathed, her voice trembling a little.
Griff nodded soberly. “I think it’s temporary,” he said. “Although the girls did manage to get into the SuperGlue.”
“Auntie Junior!” Jayce said, tugging at her shirt. “We made you something!”
“It’s a surprise,” Margaret chimed in, before they both dissolved in giggles.
“We got glue on our nails,” Jayce said proudly, showing off fingers striped with neon green streaks.
“I had no idea glue came in colors,” Griff added. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, stuffing them in his pockets, then letting them hang at his sides. He cleared his throat, then shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“Yeah,” Junior said. “Way more fun than when we were kids. Um, I—”
What? She what? Feeling the color in her cheeks, she turned her attention to the girls, who scrambled off her and raced off to the kitchen.
“What are they doing here?”
“Oh, them?” Griff didn’t take his eyes off her, but picked his way past a tray of drill bits and offered her his hand. “You know, just hanging out.”
“Uh huh.” Doubtfully, Junior allowed herself to be pulled up out of the chair. “Somehow I don’t think—”
Then his lips were on hers, and her thoughts just muddled together as she tasted longing and agony echoed back in his kiss. He ran his strong hands down the small of her back and held her tightly against him, and she moaned as she melted to his shape.
Giggles again.
Junior pulled back, and hastily tugged her shirt into place.
The girls held up a small, bright object.
“You’re going to love it!” Jayce shrieked.
“It’s a ‘gagement ring,” Margaret added, then clapped her hands over her mouth in mock horror. “Oops!”
Griff took Junior’s hand and gave her a crooked, apologetic grin.
“Sorry,” he said softly, drawing her back into his embrace. “I meant to do this in private.”
“Down on your knees!” Jayce commanded shrilly. “Like in Cinderella!”
“Oh. Oops again,” Griff said, and released her hand.
Junior watched in astonishment as he lowered himself to one knee. “What—”
“Junior, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” Griff’s eyes were steady now, locked on hers, and his hand was strong and warm around her own.
“I—I—”
Griff took her left hand gently and slid the object onto her finger.
It scratched. It was made of paper, and pipe cleaners, and sloppily glued plastic gems.
“It’s…gorgeous,” Junior said weakly.
“Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!” the girls chanted, jumping up and down.
“Yes,” Junior choked out.
And hiccupped.
And then she couldn’t wait one more second, and she was laughing and hiccupping and throwing herself into Griff’s arms and the girls somehow managed to get tangled up in what was surely one of the most satisfying hugs in Ross family history.
“Remind me never to arm-wrestle Hank Hollins again,” Griff said, wincing as he managed to gently disentangle the girls and draw Junior closer to him.
“You did what?” Junior asked, her eyes widening in horror.
“Boy, are
you
dumb,” Jayce announced, shaking her head ruefully. “He’s, like, huge.”
“And way stronger than you,” Margaret added.
“Watch it, squirts,” Griff growled, “I don’t think you should say any bad stuff about me, because I’m good friends with the boss around here. And she’s mean. Now scram.”
The girls obliged, shrieking and laughing, and Griff smiled softly as he curved Junior back against him.
“I think know a cure for those hiccups.”
###
Ruby Laska grew up in the heart of rural Arkansas, the youngest of four sisters who shared a passion for state fairs, Vince Gill, and the local library. Now she lives and works in the not-so-small town of Little Rock, where she and her husband share their home with three rescue greyhounds. When not writing, Ruby loves to bake in her restored 1952 Chambers oven, and won a blue ribbon for her lavender shortbread last year at the Pulaski county fair.
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