Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set (6 page)

BOOK: Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set
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When had his opinion begun to count? When she kissed him? Felt the length of his body pressed against hers? Or when she’d responded to him in a way she’d never felt before?

She lifted the mug and the tea sloshed over the side.
Men aren’t supposed to matter, dammit
.
But this one did and so did her niece. How could she tell him the truth, that she feared developing an emotional bond with Alix—and Griff—only to have them ripped from her at his whim? Regardless of the fact that he needed her now, they’d part in the end. His abrupt ending to the kiss, something she should have done much sooner, assured her of that.

She’d always be a peripheral part of Alix’s life. She wanted a relationship with her sister’s little girl. But if she allowed herself to be a daily part of Alix’s life, if she allowed herself to become truly attached, the resulting emptiness would be like reliving her own worst nightmare. Her miscarriage and the abuse that precipitated it had been traumatic enough, but the doctor’s pronouncement that she’d never have another baby had shattered her dreams and changed her life. She’d learned not to hope for what couldn’t be.

Griff and Alix were a ready-made family, the type of family Chelsie would never have. Knowingly placing herself in a position that guaranteed emotional pain was plain stupid. She’d done the right thing. She would still see her niece, but on her terms. Safe terms.

Yet the look in Griff’s eyes... he and Alix were suffering. Though Chelsie doubted she represented the solution Griff so desperately needed, he believed she did, enough to put aside his lingering doubts and place Alix in her care. That sort of trust ought to mean something, she thought, coming no closer to a decision.

How could she place her heart in such jeopardy? How could she not?

* * *

Dusk was beginning to fall when Chelsie pulled up to the big house with the freshly painted white picket fence surrounding the front yard. Potted red geraniums, just beginning to flower, lined the three front steps leading to the screened-porch door. A child couldn’t pick a more cheerful place to grow up, which, Chelsie surmised, was why Griff had chosen it. Clichéd but perfect, nevertheless.

She took the bluestone walkway at a brisk pace, afraid she might turn and run otherwise. Not only was this house a child’s dream, but a family couldn’t find a more comforting place to build memories.

Mrs. Baxter let her in with a huge smile and warm welcome and directed Chelsie to follow her inside.

“Admit it, you coward. You aren’t afraid of his reaction to your showing up without calling again. You’re afraid his offer is still open,” Chelsie muttered to herself.

“Did you say something?” The older woman stopped halfway down the hall and turned to Chelsie.

“I said I’m sorry to keep showing up unexpectedly.” She forced a smile.

“Nonsense. Just follow me. They’re in here.” Mrs. Baxter gestured toward an arched entryway. “You’re just what this family needs.”

Her words propelled Chelsie into motion. She pivoted on her heels, intending to hightail it back to her car. She could be safely ensconced in her office by eight. Work still needed to be done. Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. Wasn’t there a saying like that?

She had taken one step when Mrs. Baxter called a halt to her cowardly retreat. “Alix, someone special’s here to see you.”

Chelsie had nowhere to run or hide. Reluctantly, she turned back again.

“She doesn’t let that book you brought her out of her sight,” the woman said, a kind smile etching her features.

“Oh.” Chelsie’s legs felt wobbly. She’d passed the point where she could exit gracefully. Drawing a deep breath, she followed Mrs. Baxter into the kitchen. She only hoped Griff’s mood was brighter than her own.

“I said eat it, don’t throw it.”

Chelsie stopped in the doorway and stared in disbelief as Griff wiped mashed potatoes off his face and shirt collar.

“Let’s try this again, squirt.” He scooped up another spoonful and attempted to feed Alix, who grabbed his hand mid-air, frustrating his efforts. “I’m warning you. The next time the food misses your stomach, it goes in the garbage.”

Chelsie knew, just as Griff probably did, that reasoning with a two year old was as futile as reasoning with a stubborn client. Still, watching him attempt just that with more patience than she would have believed he possessed, endeared him to her at once. The bachelor with the carefree reputation had managed to surprise and impress her yet again.

The spoonful reached the little girl’s mouth, but instead of swallowing, Alix grinned and squirted the food back through her lips. Griff groaned, tossing a towel on the high chair in a gesture of defeat. “I give up. If you’re pulling these stunts, you can’t be hungry.”

Chelsie suppressed the urge to laugh at the way the child had manipulated the man.

“Mrs. Baxter.” He didn’t call quietly, he bellowed.

“Right here, Mr. Stuart.” He whirled around at the sound of the older woman’s soft-spoken voice.

“Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I know. You were otherwise engaged.”

“Would you mind cleaning her up while I work on myself?”

Nothing short of a shower would help, Chelsie thought. Without warning, images of a strong body and rivulets of water dripping over naked skin invaded her mind. She attempted to push aside the sensual images she’d evoked, but Griff hindered her effort.

Though he still wore trousers from his day at work, he’d stripped to his T-shirt giving Chelsie a glimpse of muscles that flexed with each movement. She remembered the feel of those hard muscles beneath her fingertips. She had a hard time tearing her gaze from the sight and wished he hadn’t chosen to save his shirt and tie from the little girl’s perfect aim.

“I’d like to see her eat more,” Mrs. Baxter said. Griff nodded in agreement

Nothing could have distracted Chelsie faster than the chaos before her. She focused on her niece, who was no more cooperative with her baby-sitter than she’d been with her uncle.

The little girl’s lips remained tightly closed. Mrs. Baxter and Griff exchanged frustrated looks. Because of Alix, the older woman had forgotten Chelsie’s presence. She stood in the entryway and enjoyed the show. She hadn’t wanted to call attention to herself any sooner than necessary, but the residents of this house obviously needed help. This adorable but feisty child knew which buttons to push on each adult to get her way.

“Maybe I could give it a try,” Chelsie said.

“How did you get in?” Griff turned around as he spoke.

“Well, good evening to you, too.” Undaunted, she walked over to where Alix sat, rubbing the potatoes and whatever else had been made for dinner into her high-chair tray.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot. Mr. Stuart, Miss Russell is here to see you and Alix.”

“I realize that now.” Griff smiled at the older woman, putting her at ease. “Why don’t you call it a day?” He spoke to Mrs. Baxter, but looked at Chelsie. “Miss Russell and I can take things from here. Can’t we?”

His direct gaze unnerved her. Alix’s antics had distracted her from the purpose of this visit, but Griff brought her smack into reality. The man had a way of doing that to her in more ways than one.

Mrs. Baxter hesitated. “If you’re sure.”

“We’re sure,” they answered in unison. Chelsie didn’t want an audience for round three with Griffin Stuart.

After kissing Alix good night, the older woman headed for her room.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.” He handed Chelsie a sticky bowl and gestured to the child in the high chair.

She accepted the challenge in silence. As the evening wore on, Chelsie not only coaxed Alix to finish her meal, but got her to behave in the bath. A silent agreement had been reached. All that remained was for them to work out the details. Regardless of the specifics, however, she intended to draw an imaginary boundary, one she wouldn’t cross no matter what the circumstances.

This seemed like a good place to start. She stood in the doorway to Alix’s bedroom. Under the glow of a small Mickey Mouse night-light, Chelsie made out Griff’s large form leaning over the little girl’s crib. Though lost in shadows, his movements were brisk, sure, and gentle.

Yes, Chelsie acknowledged, gentleness emanated from deep within him. She’d sensed his basic decency even when he’d treated her without regard to her own feelings. She’d felt it in the warm, deep giving of his kiss.

Without warning, he glanced over his shoulder, meeting her gaze. Locked in an understanding they themselves had created, Chelsie found herself unable to look away. The currents in the air changed suddenly. A frisson of awareness invaded her body, and she turned away in shock and embarrassment. When she’d centered herself, she turned back, but Griff’s attention had refocused on Alix. Having such a heated reaction to his glance, Chelsie couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be the sole focus of his gentle attention. A longing so strong it threatened to choke her arose.

“Say good night to Chelsie.” Griff’s deep voice penetrated her need.

The little girl mumbled something unintelligible and Griff tucked her in. Chelsie laughed, but tears blurred her vision as she watched from a safe distance. She refused the urge to aid in the nightly ritual of placing Alix in her crib, covering her with an old blanket, ruffling her dark curls, and kissing her good night. Motherly gestures invoked motherly feelings. If she helped, she would be lost—lost in a past she couldn’t change, and a future she would never have.

Chelsie drew a steadying breath. Talcum powder, shampoo, and other baby smells permeated the air. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off a sudden shiver. An empty and fruitless gesture, since the chill came from deep inside her heart.

Griff walked to where Chelsie stood. He placed a hand on the small of her back. She
knew
he only meant to lead her out of the room. But his touch set off hundreds of tiny explosions in body parts she’d long forgotten existed... and in parts she’d never been aware of before. Even her skin tingled.

Another shiver shook her, this one warm and friendly. As if he realized the reaction he’d caused and regretted the contact he withdrew his hand. She drew a deep breath and preceded him out of the room.

They’d begun as adversaries and were now unwilling allies. She wondered if they’d ever get past the uneasy distrust that plagued their relationship. Perhaps it was best they never did. Friendly adversaries might be all she could hope for. At least then she’d stand a chance of keeping her heart intact.

FOUR

“S
orry to have kept you waiting.”

Chelsie turned, startled at the sound of Griff’s deep voice. Having retreated to the living room, she’d gotten lost in a file she’d retrieved from the car. No sense in wasting valuable free time, and what better way to tamp down unwanted emotions than by burying herself in work?

She closed the paperwork and placed it on the cushion beside her. “Not a problem. How could I begrudge a dirty man a shower?”

“Feeding Alix is an experience,” he said, laughing.

Laughing? In the time since the hearing, Chelsie couldn’t recall Griff treating her to a simple smile.

He ran his fingers through still damp hair as he entered the room, coming up beside her. She’d always thought him good looking, despite his brooding intensity. Now a relaxed grin transformed him into a different man. A small scar near his left eye crinkled when he smiled. Deep grooves surrounded dimples she’d never realized he possessed. She assumed that the last month or so of grief and sleepless nights had taken its toll, but instead of aging him, the lines gave his face character. The effect was devastating.

She sucked in a deep breath and prayed for the strength to survive the coming months. “Yes, well, mealtime might be easier if you asserted some authority instead of allowing Alix to manipulate you.” She tempered the lecture with a smile and a laugh of her own. After all, she’d done her own share of allowing the little girl to have her way. Looking at that lopsided grin and mop of curls, Chelsie could almost see her sister. She lost her heart every time.

“Manipulate? I don’t”—he shook his head—”yes, I do. But I pay for it, believe me. My clothes were covered with food.”

She chuckled. “Might be easier, not to mention cleaner, to feed her with nothing on.” A flush heated her cheeks and she rolled her eyes in embarrassment. “I can’t believe I said that.”

“Neither can I, but I’ll take it under advisement.”

Having already let her mind wander in that direction, visions of him naked came much faster this time. She was certain he’d be magnificent nude, and just as certain she had no intention of finding out.

These wayward thoughts didn’t bode well for her handling of their time together. She needed to gain some control herself. “Sorry. I tend to speak my mind.” She shrugged, determined to forge ahead, regardless of her big mouth.

“I noticed.” He smiled again. “Mind if I join you?” He gestured to the beige couch and nodded, sliding her folder onto the stone cocktail table before her.

“What made you change your mind?” His penetrating gaze assessed her, and she struggled not to fidget under his scrutiny. After all, she’d set herself up for this and had to see it through.

“You didn’t just drop in for the hell of it,” he said, suddenly wary.

“No, but we do have to work out the details and you’ve just pinpointed one major flaw.”

“What?”

“Your blatant and undisguised distrust of everything I do or say.” She sighed and leaned on an armrest. “Look, I’m not asking for your complete faith. After that hearing, I understand your position. But this is your idea, so you must think I have some positive qualities or you wouldn’t want me around Alix. Am I right so far?”

“So far you’re on your way to one hell of an opening argument, counselor. Go on.”

“All I’m asking is that you reserve judgment. Let my actions speak for themselves without your coloring them with preconceived notions that may or may not be correct.” Chelsie grinned. “And for the record, they probably aren’t.”

“We’ll see.” His lips twitched as he tried to suppress a laugh, letting her know she’d made progress.

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