Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set (10 page)

“I know that.”

He regretted pushing for an answer without giving her time to think. Before she could say no, he rushed on. “I’ll admit things between us are strained. But I’m also willing to admit something’s brewing.”

“Okay.”

“It has to be easier to share ideas with someone than talking to the walls.”

“Okay.”

“And you’ve got the experience dealing with real people. Mine is with institutional clients. I could learn from you.”

She tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin. “Cut the humble act. From what I’ve heard around family court, you talk circles around the most seasoned pros. So you can dispense with the I-need-you routine.”

“How about a plain I want you?”

Heat rose to her face, causing a pink flush to tinge her cheeks. But instead of backing off, her soft hands grasped his chin and turned him to face her. “
I said okay
. If you’d stop rambling long enough to hear me, you’d realize I gave in a long time ago.” She laughed. “And to think you called
me
long-winded.”

He relaxed, though he wasn’t foolish enough to think all his problems had been solved. An uphill battle awaited him. His own roller-coaster emotions were not going to be easy to deal with. Neither, he suspected, was his new partner. “You won’t be sorry,” he said.

“That, counselor, remains to be seen.” She grasped his outstretched hand. As her satiny skin brushed his calloused fingers, more than a business handshake passed between them. And he had the sinking feeling she’d be proven right.

“D
id you weight these damned things with rocks?” Ryan dropped the large box onto the floor with a grunt.

Chelsie laughed. “You should have seen me in law school. My book bag outweighed me.”

“That I can believe. Is that the last of them?”

“Yes, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the help.” She glanced at Ryan, wondering what kind of man Griff would choose as his closest friend. Dark hair ended the similarities between the men. Ryan had harder planes and angles to his face than Griff, but his loyalty to those he cared for appeared to run just as deep.

“Anytime. Griff always volunteers me for the jobs he can’t handle.”

“I was wondering...”

“Excuse me.” The sound of another voice in the room startled her and ended her chance to learn more about the Stuart family. Just as well, she thought. Curiosity could only lead to more intimate knowledge and even stronger feelings.

She turned to see Griff watching them, a scowl etching his handsome face. Though he’d offered to help her move things from her office, Alix had come down with a cold and he didn’t want to leave her. Ryan had shown up in his place.

“Like I said, he’s the brains, I’m the muscle,” Ryan said.

“I did go to law school, remember? I know what those books weigh. And,” Griff said, looking his friend over, “you could use the workout.”

Chelsie tried and failed to suppress a grin. “Oh, shut up, both of you.” She shook her head. “Men.”

“I’m out of here. Next time another job’s too much for you, remember to call me.” Ryan bounded down the stairs.

“He’s a good friend,” Chelsie said as she pushed up her sleeves so she could begin the arduous task of unpacking.

“Like a brother.” Griff leaned against the wall and stared into the empty room. Chelsie winced at the word brother. But Griff seemed lost in thought, so she doubted he’d even noticed. “Ryan grew up next door to us. We’ve always been close. Even when Jared was alive, it was always the three of us.”

She nodded. She and her sister had grown up much the same way. With two fairly disinterested parents, they’d had no one to rely on but each other. Maybe that was what made the break in their relationship so difficult to bear. Chelsie had looked out for her sister in her own way, but phone calls and occasional lunches were pathetic in retrospect and provided little consolation now. In seeking to protect herself from further loss, Chelsie had deprived herself of even more.

With such a close bond between the brothers, Griff’s feelings of loss had to surpass her own.

“The day my mother ran off, Ryan told my Dad that we’d take care of Jared,” Griff said at last.

Chelsie held her surprise in check. If she disturbed his train of thought, he might not reveal any more. Despite her earlier admonitions to herself about satisfying her curiosity, she wanted to know this man in all the ways that counted.

When he remained silent, she spoke softly. “How old were you?” she asked.

“Twelve.”

Old enough to hurt, too young to comprehend. Her heart broke for the little boy who’d lost his mother and to this day probably didn’t understand why. She doubted even an adult could understand that kind of desertion. Many people prayed for the gift of bearing a child. This woman had thrown that away. “What happened?”

“She wanted more of some things, fewer of others.”

Chelsie’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“More expensive trinkets. More money. More men.” His bitter, harsh laugh told her what he thought of that. “And fewer responsibilities. Fewer children, to be exact.”

If Griff was cynical, she now had an inkling why. “Why are you telling me this now?” Even as she asked, she feared she already knew.

Did he regret their change of status? Perhaps he’d decided the woman who’d sued him for custody at the behest of her wealthy parents was not to be trusted. Maybe he realized he’d had a lapse in judgment, but no more.

If so, she’d let him out gracefully, no matter how much it hurt. She’d had more than her own share of doubts about the partnership. In this case, grasping what little life offered might turn out to be a huge mistake. She braced herself for his excuses, promised herself she wouldn’t react, and mentally calculated whether she could get her office back from the tenant she had sublet it to.

“Today’s Jared’s birthday.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t been prepared for the admission. Without thinking, she walked over and took his hand, hoping to convey her feelings and her strength. “I’m sorry. You should have told me. We could have done this another time.”

He shrugged. “It’ll keep my mind off things,” he said in a gruff voice.

He didn’t want her gone. Relief warred with hurt over his pain, but she’d give him the distraction he desired. “Okay, then. Let’s get started.”

She headed for the first box, but he didn’t release his grasp and she found herself pulled against him. His arms came around her waist and she sucked in a deep breath of air. She tilted her head backwards to look at him.

Raw emotion etched his features. In his eyes, she saw pain so deep only someone who had been there could comprehend. But she also saw something more, something his body wouldn’t let her mistake. He held her flush against him, his erection pressing intimately against her.

“Griff. We have to work together. This is a mistake.”

He loosened his hold on her waist. “Then walk away.”

She ought to. He didn’t need her. He needed someone, anyone to chase away the pain and help him get through this day. She could be here for him now and he’d still leave her when he discovered the truth.
So, go
. But her feet wouldn’t move.

Her hand raised, seemingly of its own free will, to trace the tiny scar at the corner of his left eye. Once she touched him, it became too late to turn back.

His lips brushed hers. Without warning, he groaned and deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her eager mouth. When he pulled her waist against him, she backed into the wall. The movement anchored her, enabling her pelvis to rock in synchronization with the expert movement of his tongue.

She thought she heard herself whimper under the assault. If he ground himself against her again, she might do just that. He pried her shirt loose from her jeans and ran his hands along her midriff. His thumbs brushed her nipples, causing them to harden into tight peaks.

And then she heard it again. The small whimper that could have easily come from her, but hadn’t “Griff,” she murmured against his lips.

He groaned in protest. “Don’t stop now.” But he raised his head to gaze at her.

“Alix, I think,” she said, glancing in the direction of the sound.

The slight whimper turned into an angry cry.

“Oh, hell.” Griff ran his fingers through his hair, looking about as pleased with the interruption as she felt.

“Mrs. Baxter...”

“Has taken a week off to be with her son. I told her I could handle it.”

When her mind began to function, she might be grateful for the intrusion. Right now, all she noticed was a keen sense of frustration, a sensation as alien to her as desire.

“I’ll go,” she offered.

“No,” he said brusquely, taking two steps back. “You start working up here. I’ve got it.”

She nodded. Her tongue swiped over her lips. She still tasted Griff. Hugging herself, she watched as he bounded down the stairs two at a time. His reluctance to end the kiss had resulted in his eagerness to get away.

She turned to unpack, ignoring her still throbbing body. She reached for another book. Griff shouted so loud she would have heard him yell without the monitor. She vaulted down the stairs and dashed towards Alix’s bedroom.

“What is it?” Only grabbing onto the molding on the door frame slowed her run.

His eyes met hers. “She’s burning up. Should we give her aspirin?”

“No!”

Griff looked startled at her sharp tone.

“Never give a child aspirin,” she said in a calmer voice. Chelsie leaned over the crib where the little girl lay shaking and shivering, and pressed her hand against the child’s forehead. Her skin felt hot as an iron. Glancing over her shoulder, Chelsie saw Griff pacing behind her. “Call her doctor and ask him whether we should meet him at his office or the hospital.”

He bolted out of the room. Chelsie quickly stripped off the child’s clothes and lifted Alix into her arms. “It’ll be okay, sweety,” Chelsie crooned in her ear during the short walk down the hall to the bathroom. “I’m here, and Uncle Griff’s here. We’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

Alix whimpered and tried to thrash around, but Chelsie held her fast.

While waiting for Griff to return, she held Alix over one shoulder and reached for the still damp bath towel with the other. After laying the towel in the sink, she opened the medicine cabinet and hoped she’d find what she was looking for without having to search. Once she located the rubbing alcohol, she propped Alix up on the counter while saturating the towel in a combination of alcohol and cold water. She wrung out the rag and sat on the toilet, wiping the little girl down with the cool compress.

She would have liked to repeat the process but knew she had little time. Instead, she returned to Alix’s room and had her dressed by the time Griff returned.

“What did the doctor say?”

“He’ll meet us at the hospital.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

He wrinkled his nose. “What’s that smell?”

“Rubbing alcohol. Reduces fever.”

Within minutes, they had Alix in her car seat and were headed for the hospital. “Where did all this knowledge about children come from, anyway?” Griff asked, keeping his eye on the road.

Chelsie swallowed hard and thought quickly. “Working at the shelter,” she explained. During her brief pregnancy, she had read all she could about infant and child care, waiting for the day she’d hold her own baby in her arms. No point in explaining that to Griff now.

“Oh.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “She’ll be fine. Lots of kids run high fevers with things as minor as an ear infection,” she said for his benefit. He looked pale and shaken and about to fall apart. “I’ve seen things like this before.” Whether or not Alix’s illness was as simple as she’d laid out for Griff didn’t matter. Keeping him calm did. She’d let herself fall apart later.

He turned and she met his intense stare. “Thanks.”

She smiled in return. He lifted her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. His touch formed a tangible bond between them, stronger than anything that had passed between them before.

They drove the rest of the trip in worried but comfortable silence. Only when they reached the hospital did she feel Griff reluctantly pry his hand from her own.

* * *

Chelsie glanced down at her watch. “What did the doctor say again?”

“That her fever had spiked, but it’s down now. They’re just monitoring her.” Griff leaned his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and wished for privacy.

He wasn’t pleased with the fact that he’d stood by helplessly and let Chelsie handle what should have been his responsibility. But the thought of losing Alix as surely as he’d lost everyone else in his life had immobilized him. Now, with the immediate crisis over, the cold fear that ripped at his gut had begun to recede.

Allowing Chelsie into his life would just add another woman to the list of those who’d deserted him in the end. Erecting barriers didn’t come as easily as it had in the past. He supposed he had Chelsie to thank for that. “Why don’t you go get some sleep?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t leave you now.”

Later, then?
The clock on the wall ticked off another minute, the sound echoing in the small waiting room. He opened his eyes and focused on the stark beige walls, but refused to allow himself the pleasure and agony of glancing in her direction.

“Eleven o’clock,” she murmured. She stood and paced the confines of the limited space, her actions making him increasingly aware of her presence and whereabouts. “Are you sure it’s just the flu?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And they’ll let her go home in a few hours if the fever stays down?”

“Yes.”

“What if she wakes up and gets scared?”

He groaned. “Would you just relax? Go get a cup of coffee or something.” He stood and stretched.

She shook her head.

“Go home, then. Or at least stop pacing like you were her mother. You’re making me nervous.”

“I’ll go home when I’m good and ready. And if you don’t want me acting like her mother, you shouldn’t have placed me in this damned position to begin with.” Her eyes flashed angry sparks, but her voice shook, as well.