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The Passing Storm(73)

Author:Christine Nolfi

As she railed, Griffin found himself evaluating her. Despite the grievous losses she’d endured, the years had been kind to Rae. Her eyes were more striking than he remembered, a dusky forest green. Her hair was appealingly long. The riot of reddish-gold locks cascaded past her shoulders. She was disturbingly attractive—and nearly intimidating, given her height.

The silly conviction he’d forged in high school captured his thoughts.

If Vikings ruled the world, Rae would be their queen.

“Stop zoning out!” She came forward. “Your daydreaming always drove me crazy. You’d zone out whenever I was upset. Like you were picking up radio frequencies from Mars.”

Or sending an SOS.

“I’m listening.” He gestured toward the window. “You’re shouting loud enough for everyone at the dealership to hear you. Mind turning down the volume?”

“All right.” Her voice dropped to an acceptable level. Her eyes narrowed. “Are you aware a child Lark’s age is impressionable?”

“I am.”

“Did you know my daughter was badgering me nonstop? All those demands for the name of her father. After years of raising her in blissful tranquility, we were suddenly having a million stupid arguments. And no wonder. Lark had you in the background, egging her on. It’s appalling how you encouraged my daughter.”

“Calm down,” he snapped. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

“I wouldn’t be like this, if it weren’t for your scheming.”

“Rae, sit down. Let’s talk this out like reasonable adults.”

“Last warning, Griffin. Stop telling me what to do.”

She was coming at him too fast, overrunning his defenses. Apparently Yuna had returned the keepsake faster than anticipated, to poor results. Which was baffling. Yuna had indicated she’d wait a couple of weeks before playing delivery boy. Even more curious: she’d returned the box without giving him the heads-up he was sure she would provide.

None of which mattered now.

Griffin rocked back on his heels. “I didn’t encourage Lark,” he said, determined not to let Rae throw him off-balance. It was her special talent. But he was older now, with skills of his own. “You’re implying I devised a master plan to strike up a friendship with her. Nothing could be further from the truth. Lark approached me. Not the other way around.”

“So it’s her fault? That’s big of you. And how would you characterize repeated visits between a girl and the man she’s picked out for her father? If that isn’t encouragement, what is?” A low growl of frustration escaped Rae. “My daughter cooks up a lottery, and you’re the winning ticket. It would be funny if it wasn’t tragic.”

A low blow, but he took it in stride. “Rae, I didn’t understand what was going on. Not immediately.”

“You’re pleading . . . stupidity? That’s your excuse?”

Another blow, and his anger sparked. “It’s the only one I have.”

“Griffin, I worked hard to raise Lark. I put her front and center in every decision I made. She was everything to me. She didn’t need you jumping in, pretending you were eager and available to play the role of father. She had me and a grandfather who adored her. She was fine. More than fine—Lark was smart and confident and capable. She didn’t need you.”

“I never said she did.”

It was galling how Rae wouldn’t accept a modicum of blame. As if she bore no responsibility at all. Why keep his love letters in the first place? Or the tokens he’d given her in childhood—if they meant nothing to Rae, why keep them at all? By holding on to the remnants of their long-dead affection, she’d guided Lark into his world.

“You weren’t meant to be part of her life, Griffin. What right did you have to confuse her?”

Straddling anger and remorse, Griffin chose the dangerous emotion. They were arguing about a child they’d both loved. A child neither of them would have the joy of watching grow into womanhood. Whatever promise lay buried in the cold ground, Griffin knew he’d never stop grieving. Rae wouldn’t either.

The facts made him angrier. With the anger came a surge of male pride, sharpening his thoughts to a diamond’s edge.

“I didn’t confuse Lark,” he growled. “Why didn’t you tell her what she needed to know? Spare her the wild goose chase?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“All evidence to the contrary. You storm into my office after sixteen years, and suddenly I’m responsible for whatever problems you had with your daughter. She was a teenager, Rae. Old enough to hear the facts. Why didn’t you supply them? Were you afraid Lark wouldn’t take it well, once she learned you made some incredibly reckless choices when you were young?”

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