Chelsie swallowed hard and thought quickly. “Working at the shelter,” she lied.
During her brief pregnancy, she had read all she could about infant and childcare, 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,” she assured him. 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. But erecting barriers against her didn’t come as easily as it had in the past.
“Why don’t you go get some sleep?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t leave you now.”
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.
Griff recognized the accompanying signs of hurt, too. Shame overwhelmed him, but once spoken, his words lay like a chasm between them.
“Chelsie.” He placed a hand on her arm. She shrugged off his touch.
“I warned you, but would you listen?” she asked. “Of course not.” She answered her own question. “You know what’s best. You know what everybody can handle.” She snorted in disgust.
“Calm down.” He tried soothing her with his voice. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long night and I’m as edgy as you are. And I’m used to dealing with things alone.”
“And you prefer it that way.”
“Yes. No. I can’t lose someone else.” Not Alix or Chelsie, but he wouldn’t admit as much aloud.
Her shoulders sagged as some of the anger seemed to seep out of her system. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“One of us should get some sleep. I’ll take the night shift and I’ll catch some shut-eye tomorrow when you take over.” A strand of hair had fallen across her cheek. Suddenly needing human contact, needing Chelsie, he reached to brush it away.
“When I proposed this partnership, the idea was for you to get more sleep, not less,” he said. “So go, okay?”
“Okay. Now’s not the best time to hash this out anyway. We’ll deal with things tomorrow.”
His eyes narrowed. “What things?”
She slung her purse over her shoulder. “Things,” she said in a low but determined voice. “At least we haven’t finalized anything. I’ll check on Alix on my way out.”
“Be my guest,” he said to her retreating back. The swinging doors shuffled closed behind her. “But don’t think you’re walking out on this arrangement just because I lack tact and finesse.” And the brains God gave to most men.
Maybe
he
had come down with the damned flu. Self-protection was one thing. Driving away the woman who had kept him sane was another. A damned stupid move. As soon as he got Alix home, he planned on rectifying his mistake.
* * *
Chelsie stomped around the office. If she’d unpacked, at least she’d have the satisfaction of tossing her things back into the boxes. Now, she took the only means available to release her frustration. She taped closed the one box she’d had time to open.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Leaving,” Chelsie said without turning to look at Griff. At times, he read her too easily. Now he’d see a woman with no intention of carrying out her threat. But her childish actions allowed her to vent anger she couldn’t decide where to direct and she needed the release.
“No, you’re not” He sneezed.
“Bless you. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Chelsie, I’m sorry. I was tired. Irritable. Worried about Alix.”
“Right. So you turned on me, the person you’d kissed hours earlier. Says a lot about your character.”
He had to suppress a grin. Her sarcasm gave him a foolish hope that she didn’t really want to leave. “My character leaves a lot to be desired. My taste in partners does not. Come on, give a guy a break.”
Her hands stilled on the box. “How’s Alix?” she asked.
“Napping. Fever’s gone. My guess is she’ll be raring to go in about”—he glanced at his watch—“one hour.”
“Then you go on and get some rest. I’ll handle Alix.”
He sneezed again. She looked at him in concern. “Feeling okay?” she asked.
“Just tired. So if you don’t mind, I’ll take you up on your offer.” At least if she had to watch Alix, Griff could be sure she’d still be there when he woke.
“Go on.” She prodded his back with her palm. “Despite that nasty temper of yours, I might have lunch made when you wake up.”
“Is that your way of saying we’re still partners?”
“It’s my way of saying you might get another chance.” Her lips twitched as she tried to suppress a smile. “Speaking of chances, is that your third or fourth?” she asked.
He opened his mouth to reply and she snapped his jaw shut with her hand. “Quit while you still have a partner, partner.”
Her dark-eyed gaze settled on his, unnerving him.
“Go get some sleep,” she said in a husky voice.
He let his finger trail over her moist lower lip before turning and doing as she suggested. He didn’t trust himself not to touch further. At this point, a solitary nap was the safest place for him to be.
Unfortunately he awoke with a scratchy throat and a pounding headache. His skin hurt to the touch. He groaned, which only caused the first two symptoms to increase in severity. A hangover, which he hadn’t had since his college days, would feel better than this.
Chelsie knocked.
“Come on in.” He propped himself up higher in bed.
“You must have been exhausted, because you slept through lunch and dinner. I figured I’d wake you so you could at least have something to eat before I left.”
“How’s Alix?” he asked.
“What’s wrong? You sound like a frog.” She walked to the side of the bed and snapped on a table lamp, causing him to squint until his eyes adjusted to the light. “She’s fine. She woke up, played all afternoon, watched a video or two, and went back in for the night.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “And I slept through all that?”
She nodded. “You look awful.”
“Thank you. I can’t remember the last time a woman’s compliment turned my head like that.”
“Be serious. Your eyes are glassy, your face is flushed. How do you feel?”
“As lousy as I apparently look.”
“Where do you keep the Tylenol around here?”
Grateful that she seemed to be taking charge, he gave in to his aching muscles and leaned back onto the pillows. “Bathroom medicine cabinet. Through that door,” he said, and pointed to the master bath.
“Someone should have told me that baby-sitter and nursemaid would be part of the partnership agreement. I would have upped my percentage.” He was about to dispute that, then realized he couldn’t. Apologizing seemed like the next best alternative. But she softened her words with a genuine smile before heading in the direction he’d indicated.
“You probably caught some form of what Alix had. Open up,” she said, upon exiting the bathroom.
He complied and she cut off any answer by sticking a thermometer in his mouth. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
She left as briskly as she’d come, giving him only a brief moment to view her from behind. Her jeans fit like a coating of paint and those legs seemed to grow in length each time he looked. If he felt feverish before, he’d hate to view the thermometer now. He closed his eyes and settled in to wait.
“Open,” she said a few minutes later.
“You sure you weren’t a drill sergeant in another life?”
“Cute.” She paused to read the thermometer and frowned. “You’ve got a fever, Griff.” She handed him a glass of orange juice from the nightstand. “You stay put.”
“And who takes care of Alix?”
“As if you didn’t already know. It’s Saturday night, so neither one of us has any pressing work engagements tomorrow. Give yourself twenty-four hours for the fever to break. By then, you’ll be on your feet and Mrs. Baxter will be back first thing Monday morning.”
“She’s out till the following weekend.”
Chelsie shook her head. “She called to check in. I told her what had happened and she’ll be back.”
“Good.”
“But for the next twenty-four hours, you’re stuck with me.”
It was what he’d wanted all along, but her physical presence wasn’t all he needed, and her no-nonsense attitude irritated the hell out of him. Never mind that he’d caused her to withdraw. He desired the woman who melted in his arms, not this wind-up nurse doll.
She grabbed the empty glass from his hands and her gaze raked him over from top to bottom.
“You’re still in last night’s clothes. Change and I’ll make you something light for dinner.” She turned towards the door. “I can last a measly twenty-four hours,” she muttered.
He knew she hadn’t intended for him to hear.
“Chelsie?”
She glanced over her shoulder. He smiled as he devoured her with his eyes. “You’re about to find out how long twenty-four hours can be.”
* * *
Chelsie knew Griff’s prediction of a long twenty-four hours had been said with the express intent of making her squirm. Despite his illness, the predatory look in his eyes accomplished his goal. However, he hadn’t counted on his fever rising and his comfort level declining, making him ill equipped to do more than groan, complain, and drive her crazy. Amazingly, Alix slept on. After dinner, Griff, too, had fallen asleep.
By the time Chelsie had unpacked most of her office, cleaned up the kitchen, and finished the laundry she’d found piled in a heap on the floor, the clock read nearly midnight. After looking in on Alix, she decided to check Griff once more before collapsing on the couch in the den. They hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements, and Chelsie didn’t feel right invading Mrs. Baxter’s privacy by borrowing her bed.
With only the hall light to guide her, she tiptoed into Griff’s bedroom. She stood at the foot of his bed and glanced down at his sleeping form. His bare chest rose and fell in steady intervals. She smiled, appreciating the changes wrought by sleep. With the tension gone, a carefree expression softened the lines in his face and relaxed his features. Even the razor stubble added a roguish charm.
A far cry from the withdrawn man she dealt with on a daily basis, this man represented pure danger. She wanted him as much as she needed to resist his magnetic pull. Resisting would be easy only as long as he slept on.
Turning her attention to herself, she realized she needed rest. Though she felt like a thief, she rummaged through his bureau drawers. She doubted Griff would appreciate being awakened while she asked if she could borrow a T-shirt.
She ducked into his bathroom and changed into the first shirt she’d found. After shutting the light, she padded through his bedroom. She heard his even breathing and knew he still slept. She couldn’t resist one more look before she turned in for the night. Careful not to wake him, she sat on the edge of his mattress. In silence, she watched him sleep.
She understood his mercurial moods, understood his confusion and reluctance to turn their already precarious relationship into something deeper. His mother had deserted him, in life, his brother, in death. He acted like a man who wanted nothing to do with women and emotional commitment. One day, his views would change. With the right woman, Griff would want to settle down and provide Alix with a full-time mother and little brothers or sisters.
When the time came, could Chelsie gracefully step aside? Could she maintain their partnership and watch him with another woman? Watch someone else take over the role she currently filled in Alix’s life?
She’d always be the little girl’s aunt, but Chelsie knew, now, that wouldn’t be enough. A lump formed in her throat and she blinked, causing a tear to drip down her face. How had she let herself become so attached to either one of them?
Despite both of their reservations, they found themselves on the verge of a legal partnership and an emotional precipice. Who would catch her when she fell this time?
She sighed and reached over, brushing a dark lock of hair off his forehead. Nighttime always made her melancholy, and she chided herself for succumbing. Her own feelings didn’t matter. For both Griff and Alix, Chelsie would do whatever was necessary, even at the expense of her own happiness. Right now, however, she needed sleep.