Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set (17 page)

He needed more. He nipped lightly at her lower lip. Her hands grasped his shirt and pulled him closer, until he ended up lying on top of her on the couch.

Raising his head, he intended to stop only long enough to straighten their awkward position.

“Griff.” Her throaty voice startled him.

“Give us one more night,” he said. “We’ll talk in the morning, I promise. Whatever it is can wait.”

Uncertainty flickered in the depths of her dark eyes. He brushed a kiss over each lid, wanting her to feel gentle persuasion, not pressure. “One more night”

“We never spoke about the last night,” she murmured on a soft sigh. Her body turned to liquid beneath his. Victory, which had been so uncertain minutes before, was now within his grasp.

“You talk too much, counselor,” he said with a groan. But he recognized the irony in her statement. After their last encounter, he had wanted to talk about why she had fled. At this moment, any discussion on his end would be nothing more than an incoherent jumble. Despite the unsettled state of their relationship, he wanted her again, and he had to trust that she wouldn’t run.

“Tomorrow, we’ll leave Alix with Mrs. Baxter and you can talk as much as you want.” He nibbled on her earlobe. “If you still have the energy.”

She tipped her head backwards, baring her slender neck to his hungry gaze. “And I take it you intend to see that I don’t?”

“Let’s just say I won’t be sorry if that’s the end result.” With the tip of his tongue, he traced a long line from the base of her neck to the sensitive spot behind her ear. She trembled beneath him. He shifted positions until his erection pressed into the juncture of her thighs.

She sucked in a deep breath. “Okay.” Her capitulation came out sounding more like a husky groan. “But no matter what, we will talk tomorrow. I’ll find the energy.”

He laughed aloud. “We’ll see about that.”

Chelsie knew that she would make sure they spoke no matter what. Tomorrow. For tonight she wanted Griff, wanted this last time to call theirs. The whole day had been perfect. If she could look back on these last twenty-four hours as the time she’d had a family, she might survive what was to come. When he discovered the sordid details of her life, it would change the way he looked at her forever. Besides, he deserved decent memories, too. She wanted him to know she cared, even if she couldn’t express her love in words.

She gazed into his dark eyes. “I won’t run this time,” she promised.

Gratitude for her honesty flickered across his face. Chelsie couldn’t offer him much, but he deserved more than she’d given so far. She couldn’t expect Griff to understand something she’d kept so carefully hidden from him. But tomorrow, he’d know everything.

“Thank you.”

“I shouldn’t have left last time.”

“Tomorrow,” he reminded her. “We’ll deal with it tomorrow.” Without awaiting a response, he laced his fingers through her hair, cradling her head in his hands and capturing her mouth in a kiss that robbed her of the ability to think, yet heightened her capacity to feel.

The last time had been a slow learning process for them both. This time, their movements were rushed and frantic. The last time had been marked by intimate preliminaries. This time, by unspoken mutual consent, they shed their clothing, desiring nothing more than to be joined as one.

Griff thrust into her, burying himself as deep as her body would allow. Yet despite the physical need that drove them, Chelsie felt an intense rush of sensation flood her heart and her mind. Almost, she thought, as if the most intimate part of her body had a direct channel to her heart. And Griff had penetrated both.

* * *

Griff awoke with a start. Chelsie slept curled beside him, her head on his chest. With every breath he took, he inhaled the sweet scent of her shampoo. In sleep, she looked more trusting. Yet he felt a barrier had tumbled in the last few hours. In a very real sense, she had given herself to him, heart and soul. The question was, what did he intend to do with the gift?

The day he had won the custody hearing, the path of his life had been bleak but certain. His future held nothing except the promise of raising Alix. He had planned to focus on that one ray of sunshine and block out the need for anything more. So what had changed?

Not his past. His brother was gone, taken by an unfair twist of fate. Jared would never willingly have left his only child. Not so for Griff’s mother. She, too, was long gone. As Ryan had discovered on Jared’s request, she had died an unhappy and lonely woman. Ultimately, she had given up her family in search of an elusive dream that had never materialized. His father had passed away a few years back.

Instead of learning from the past, Griff had merely repeated it. Like his mother, his ex-fiancée was a woman short on feelings for anything except cold hard cash. Why had he ever thought Deidre would be different? He hadn’t, he realized with a sudden flash of insight Griff had chosen her because she exhibited the same traits as his mother. Because when she left him, too, he could say he’d expected it all along.

Chelsie stirred and he pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. Her naked body snuggled closer into his embrace. Being right offered little comfort in the middle of the night. But for now, with Chelsie beside him, Griff was no longer alone—physically or emotionally.

No woman had ever made him face his past, had ever reached inside him. Chelsie touched the man who wanted love but feared being abandoned. He understood that now. Was he ready to put aside his preconceived notions and past hurts and try again?

Damned if he knew. The living-room clock chimed five. At that moment, the only thing he felt sure of was that he didn’t want Mrs. Baxter to arrive and find them naked in the den.

He untangled himself from her body and stood. When he lifted her into his arms, her eyelids fluttered open. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, walking towards his bedroom.

She mumbled something unintelligible, then twined her arms around his neck and buried her head on his shoulder. Trust wasn’t something she gave easily, either. For the moment, however, she did seem to trust him.

Would her faith last into the waking hours of the morning? He had no answers. When they had their talk, he hoped they’d each do their best not to undermine the progress they’d made—and not to hurt each other in the process.

G
riff placed a hand on the sheets, only to discover they felt cool to his touch. He didn’t panic. Chelsie had promised him she wouldn’t run and he believed her.

He started down the long hallway. When he’d bought the house, he’d tried to imbue the place with warmth and felt he had succeeded everywhere except for the kitchen. Even with Alix’s high chair and bibs strewn about, the room still felt cold. With a table large enough to seat eight and no feminine knickknacks lying about, the place looked as welcoming as his old bachelor-style apartment.

When he reached the kitchen, he immediately sensed a difference. An old Eagles song drifted towards him, accompanied by soft but slightly off-key humming. Griff paused in the doorway, attempting to understand the comforting feeling that settled around him.

The decor hadn’t changed. In fact, the scene that awaited him was similar to the one that greeted him every morning. Alix sat in the high chair, happily shoveling handfuls of food into her mouth while babbling at the same time. Two places were set at the table, and the delicious aroma of pancakes surrounded him, making his mouth water for a hot stack with warm maple syrup and steaming coffee. But instead of Mrs. Baxter helping his niece with her meal and puttering around the kitchen, there was Chelsie.

Between sips of coffee, she wrestled with Alix as the child tried to stuff in more food than her mouth would hold. Chelsie laughed at the little girl, gently chiding her for misbehaving. Yet Chelsie never lost her temper and she never seemed annoyed at being placed in the role of caregiver for her sister’s child. If anything, she seemed born to be Alix’s surrogate mother.

The emotions roiling inside Griff were too complex to untangle, so he didn’t try. Instead, he studied her in silence.

She’d pulled her hair loosely atop her head and stray tendrils fell to frame her face. He had to stifle the urge to sweep her off her feet and back into the bedroom so they could pick up where they’d left off last night.

“Morning,” he said, finally.

Chelsie jumped in her seat. “Morning.” She turned towards him.

Despite last night’s intimacy, or perhaps because of it, a pink flush covered her cheeks. He found her shyness around him a refreshing change from the overly confident women in his past.

“You should have wakened me.”

She shook her head. “When you didn’t bolt out of bed the first time Alix called you, I figured you needed the sleep.”

“Hi, squirt.” He sat in the chair nearest his niece.

She held out a sticky hand and offered him a piece of her pancake.

“I’ll pass,” he said with a grin.

Chelsie stood and walked over to the stove, returning with a covered plate. “I saved these for you.” She poured him a cup of coffee and pushed the bottle of maple syrup towards him.

His mouth watered again. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Though they had agreed to talk, he decided to delay anything personal until later and tackled the subject of work instead. “I was wondering how Amanda took things when you told her you’d filed the restraining order against her ex.” He had been too busy with his own caseload and filling in for Mrs. Baxter during the day to discuss every client with Chelsie.

She glanced up from her plate. “I didn’t.”

“How could you let a week go by without taking action?”

“Don’t criticize before you know all the facts. Amanda wanted time to get settled before she filed any papers. Since her husband doesn’t know where she is, she didn’t think the delay would hurt.”

“Didn’t you tell her what a foolish, not to mention dangerous, attitude that is?” he asked.

Her skin turned ashen at the reminder and she placed her fork down with unsteady hands. “Of course. But you can’t make someone move before they’re ready. Some women never are,” she murmured.

“It’s not that I don’t sympathize. You know I do. But how can she not want to go after the guy? He physically hurt her, for God’s sake.”

“Being a victim entails a lot more than just physical abuse. Sometimes the emotional ramifications are worse,” she said in a shaky voice. “Some women just want to put the whole experience behind them as quickly as possible.”

He sighed, placing a hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean to sound judgmental, and I didn’t mean to bring back old memories.”

“I’ve lived with them for a long time, Griff. Don’t go taking on any guilt.” She stood and cleared Alix’s high chair, then turned her attention to cleaning off the child.

Because she seemed to need the distraction, he didn’t offer to do it for her. Instead, he collected the dishes from the table and placed them in the sink.

Chelsie unstrapped the little girl from the harness that held her in the chair and deposited her on the white ceramic tile floor. “Go play,” she whispered in her ear.

Alix didn’t need any more encouragement. She took off in the direction of her toys.

Once they were alone, he walked over and wrapped his arms around Chelsie’s slender waist. He buried his face in the back of her neck, inhaling her feminine scent and recalling details of the time she’d spent in his arms.

“Griff, there is one thing I need to ask.”

“Can’t it wait?” He tangled his fingers in her hair and thought of the bed upstairs. Work was the last thing on his mind.

“I’ve already put this off too long,” she said.

Apparently, he hadn’t done as good a job as he’d planned last night, he thought wryly. She wasn’t too exhausted for a long discussion and he sensed he’d have a difficult time deterring her. “What’s up?”

“You’ll have to take over Amanda’s case from now on.”

That request stunned him. Grasping her shoulders, he pivoted her body until she faced him, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. Her downcast eyes and the erratic tapping of her foot against the floor hinted at a serious problem. They’d been as close as two people could be. So why this sudden reticence to discuss something as impersonal as work?

“What’s going on?” he asked.

She lifted her head and looked him in the eye.

“Why should I take that particular case?” he asked.

Chelsie could have said it was what the other woman wanted. She could have claimed Amanda’s situation hit too close to her own. She could have blamed her already overloaded schedule. Any one of those excuses sounded valid and held enough truth to satisfy Griff, but as her partner—no, as her lover—he deserved the truth.

Regardless of the consequences, she had no intention of running out on him emotionally or otherwise. “Because there might be a conflict of...”

The shrill ring of the telephone cut her off mid-sentence.

Griff cast her an apologetic glance. Divine intervention, she thought with dismay. The one time she truly didn’t want any interruptions, she got one anyway.

She placed a stalling hand on his arm. “Can we ignore it?” she asked.

He glanced over at the phone. “Work line. Who would be calling on a Sunday?”

I check in periodically. Call any time
. A jittery feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

“Amanda,” Chelsie said, automatically. This wasn’t the first time she’d been called on a weekend or in the middle of the night by a client or someone at the shelter. The timing couldn’t be worse, but she’d never ignore someone who needed help. Especially Amanda.

The flutters in Chelsie’s stomach turned into lead. “I’ve got it.” She darted across the kitchen and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?”

Chelsie nodded at Griff, letting him know she’d been right. The hysterical woman rambled, but Chelsie caught the gist of the conversation and didn’t like what she was hearing. “How could he find you?” she asked and listened in disbelief to Amanda’s answer. “Just stay where you are. I’ll meet you in”—Chelsie glanced at her watch—“less than twenty minutes.”