A Convenient Proposal - By Lynnette Kent Page 0,66
flowed with it.”
“So what went wrong?”
She sighed. “Being with you, Griff, takes so much energy. Mental, emotional, physical—I always felt like I was falling behind. Always running to catch up. It’s nothing you do or say—just the way you are. Al and I move at the same pace. We’re not so brilliant, not as dynamic or exciting as you are. But we fit.” Her smile was a little bit wicked. “Boy, do we fit.”
“I’m glad,” Griff said, from his heart. “I want you to be happy.”
“I know you do.” She let the paper fall to the floor and came to stand in front of him, holding out her hands. “I am sorry we hurt you so badly. I should have known my own mind a long time before I did. But weddings take on a life of their own—you get so wrapped up in the process you don’t look ahead to the final result. I didn’t, anyway, until almost too late.”
Grasping her hands, Griff stood up. “What happened?”
“Your dad came to see me one afternoon.”
“My dad?” Griff released her and started to pace. “My dad is the reason you broke up with me?”
“No. Well…” Zelda flushed when he stopped to stare at her. “He just talked, Griff, about marriage being a big challenge, needing all that two people can give to each other. And when I thought about it, I knew I wasn’t enough for you.”
“That’s not what I thought.”
“But I did, and so it would have mattered one way or the other. Then Al caught me speeding one day, out on Old Orchard Road. He actually gave me a ticket!” She laughed, still obviously delighted. “On the ticket form, he wrote, ‘It’s not too late. Marry me, instead.’”
Griff laughed, too. “Good for Al. He knew what he wanted and he went for it.” Then Griff looked down at her. “You have my best wishes for a happy life, Zelda. God bless you both.”
“Thank you.” She pulled his head down. “Here’s your kiss from the bride.”
Her lips touched his briefly, with absolutely no sparks. He hugged her, recognizing the rebirth of friendship from the ashes of a romance.
The front door slammed open. “Get your hands off my wife,” Al declared. “You can’t have her.”
Griff did as ordered. “I don’t want her.” He glanced at Zelda. “With apologies, you understand.”
She stood with her hands on her hips, facing her fiancé. “I understand someone’s being a jerk. Stop it, Al.”
Al wasn’t listening. He headed for Griff, hands up and ready to grapple.
“Not this time, buddy.” Griff sidestepped. “The back of my head still hurts.”
A couple of quick moves he’d learned in the islands swept Al’s feet out from under him and dropped him hard onto his back, knocking the breath out of him.
“I owed you that,” Griff said. “Be grateful for the carpet. You can apologize in the receiving line at the reception.” He stepped over Al on his way to the door. “Congratulations, by the way. You’ve got a beautiful bride.” He pulled the door closed behind him on the way out.
“I wish I could say the same,” he muttered to himself. And then sighed.
ARDEN AWOKE SMILING on Valentine’s Day, thinking of the sensuous night just past and inhaling the delicious aroma of coffee.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Griff sat down on the bed beside her and leaned over to give her a coffee-flavored kiss. “Don’t get up. I’m ready to leave.”
“Too bad. We could have breakfast in bed. Again.” They’d spent all of the rainy Sunday just past exactly that way. “Is the weather better?”
“Still raining, and spitting snow. Not quite what you hope for on your wedding day.” He kissed her again and stood up. “I’ll see you this afternoon. Dad kept the surgery schedule light and there are no appointments after three, so I have a good chance of actually making it to the wedding by six.”
His well-laid plans fell apart when a prize mare on the far side of the county had trouble giving birth. Griff called Arden on his way out, predicting he would return in plenty of time to dress and drive her to the wedding.
He called again with twenty minutes to spare, telling her to go on without him.
Finally back at the cottage, he hurried into his dress pants, then went to the bathroom to shave. Arden must have waited until the very last moment before getting ready, and she’d left more of a clutter than usual—her makeup bag, cosmetics and hair tools littered the counter.
Griff