Forever an Eaton. Rochelle Alers

      “You’re his daughter, too.”

      “If that’s true, then why were you fighting?”

      “We weren’t fighting, sweetheart.”

      “It sounded to me as if you were fighting.”

      Belinda met Griffin’s knowing gaze over Sabrina’s head. As new parents they’d made an unforgivable faux pas—argue in front of their children. “There’re times when adults don’t agree with something, so it may sound as if we’re arguing. Your uncle and I love you and your sister. We made a promise to take care of you and make certain you’re safe. I’m going to ask you and Layla to be patient with us because we’re newbies playing mom and dad.”

      Sabrina smiled. “You already sound like a mom even though Uncle Griff needs more practice at being a daddy.”

      “Well, excuse me,” Griffin drawled. “What do I have to do to sound like a daddy?”

      “First of all you have to learn to say ‘that’s enough, young lady.’”

      Griffin forced back a smile. He’d lost count of the number of times Grant had issued his favorite warning. “What else?”

      Sabrina narrowed her gaze. “There’s ‘did you do what your mother told you to do?’”

      Belinda pressed her palms together. “I like that one.”

      “You would,” Griffin mumbled under his breath.

      Layla, carrying a large quilted tote, joined them on the porch, frowning. “Aunt Lindy, I thought you were coming with us.”

      “I am. I just have to put a few things in a bag. Don’t leave without me.”

      “We won’t” came three voices.

      Chapter 5

      Proper attire for movie night in Paoli was pajamas and fuzzy slippers. Belinda, her head supported on a mound of overstuffed pillows, lay on the carpeted floor beside Griffin, while Layla and Sabrina were huddled together, sharing a large throw pillow. They were watching Akeelah and the Bee for the umpteenth time. The film had become a favorite of the twins, along with most of the feature-length animated films from Disney/Pixar. Sabrina, who’d demonstrated promise as a budding artist, had expressed interest in becoming an animator.

      It was only Belinda’s second trip to Griffin’s house, and there were a few changes since her last visit more than five years before. He’d added an in-ground pool, expanded the outdoor patio to include a kitchen and added another room at the rear of the house that served as a home office. File folders bulging with contracts, strewn over a workstation, were a testament to a less-than-efficient filing system.

      Griffin made a big production of preparing for movie night when he taught the girls how to build a fire in the fireplace. Refreshments included popcorn, s’mores, bonbons and cherry Twizzlers.

      “Who wins the bee?” Griffin whispered to Belinda.

      Layla sat up. “Don’t tell him, Aunt Lindy!”

      Belinda tickled Griffin’s ribs through his T-shirt. “I’m not telling.”

      Griffin caught her fingers. “Don’t do that.”

      “Are you ticklish?”

      Not releasing her hand, he stared at Belinda for a full minute before lacing their fingers together. “Yes.”

      Smiling, she winked at him. “Do you have any other weaknesses I should know about?”

      Griffin closed his eyes rather than let Belinda see how much she affected him, how much she’d changed him and his life in less than a few weeks. How could he tell her that he liked her because she was different from the other women he’d been involved with, that he wanted what she gave Raymond—her Sunshine State lover—and like Belinda, if he had to play then he wanted it to be for keeps? Spending a Friday night at home watching movies with Belinda and the girls was the highlight of his week—and something he could very easily get used to.

      “That’s it,” he lied smoothly, redirecting his attention to the large plasma screen mounted on the wall. Griffin pretended interest in the movie when it was the woman pressed to his side that he found so intriguing.

      * * *

      Belinda had just dozed off when she heard the soft knock on the door. Sitting up, she turned on the bedside lamp. “Who is it?”

      “It’s Count Dracula, and I’ve come to suck your blood” a deep voice crooned in a perfect Romanian dialect.

      Belinda smiled. “Sorry, count, but I’m all out of blood.”

      “Curses!” he snarled, this time sounding like a pirate.

      “Come in, Griffin.” The door opened and Griffin walked in, wearing a pair of black pajama pants and matching T-shirt.

      Friday night at the movies had not only been enjoyable but also enlightening. She had seen another side to Griffin’s personality, the opposite of the aggressive and competitive attorney who’d become notorious for holding out until he got the best deal for his clients. He had a really wicked sense of humor, telling jokes and deliberately flubbing the punch lines. Sabrina and Layla had adored the attention he lavished on them and they, in turn, reciprocated in kind.

      “Is movie night over?” She’d found herself dozing off and on until she decided it was time to go to bed, leaving before the end of the film.

      Griffin nodded. “When I told the girls they had to brush their teeth before turning in, they said I sounded like Aunt Lindy.”

      “Is that a good thing?” she teased, smiling.

      “I’d say it is.”

      “What are you doing?” she shrieked when he ran and jumped onto the bed, flopping down on the mattress and pressing his back to the headboard.

      Crossing his bare feet at the ankles, Griffin gave Belinda a sidelong glance. “I came to talk.” Before settling down to watch the movie, he’d watched as she brushed and pinned Layla’s and Sabrina’s freshly relaxed hair, covering theirs with bandannas before doing her own. Her smooth transition from aunt to surrogate mother was nothing short of amazing.

      “What’s so urgent that you can’t wait until tomorrow?”

      “What do you think about getting the girls a dog?”

      Belinda went completely still. “What kind of dog, Griffin?”

      “Don’t worry, Belinda, it won’t be a pit bull or Rottweiler.”

      “What kind of dog?” she asked again.

      “A Yorkshire terrier. One of my neighbors has a purebred bitch that whelped a litter of pups about three months ago. She’s sold off all but two, and I told her that I would have to talk to you before offering to buy one.”

      “A puppy,” she whispered. “You want me to take care of a puppy?”

      “Sabrina and Layla will take care of it.”

      “I don’t think so, Griffin. You’re fooling yourself if you believe girls their age are going to take care of a dog. I’ll wind up feeding, bathing and walking it. And what’s going to happen when it gnaws on my rugs and furniture?”

      Griffin dropped an arm over Belinda’s shoulders, bringing her cheek to his chest. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

      “No, I don’t.”

      “Please don’t say no until you see them. They’re adorable.”

      “I’m certain they’re adorable but—”

      “Baby, please,” he crooned softly. “Grant promised the girls they could have a dog.”

      Tilting her head,