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?” Griff 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 cordless phone. “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.”
Frustrated, she ended the call and threw the cordless across the room. Adrenaline should have kept her energy level up, but a deep weariness had settled inside her. Fighting her ex-husband would be a losing battle if she couldn’t trust her client. She turned back to Griff. “Amanda had a confrontation with her husband. It seems she went home to pick up a few things.”
“Why the hell would she do something like that?” He nearly exploded in anger. Chelsie didn’t blame him. If the woman had gone home for something as stupid as extra clothing, Chelsie would throttle her.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. She didn’t give me too many details. Look, I’ll go and calm her down.”
“Not alone, you won’t!”
She pivoted on her heels, furious that he had the audacity to bark orders and grateful he cared enough to try. One look at his drawn face and her anger ebbed. He leaned against a chair. His hand grasped the back of the seat with such force his knuckles turned white. She could fight his bossiness, but not his concern.
“I’ll be fine. There’s no alternative. You can’t go to the shelter and someone has to stay with Alix.” She walked over to him and smoothed the worry lines on his forehead with one finger. “Can I borrow your truck?”
“It won’t work.”
“What?” The corners of her lips twitched in a knowing smile.
“Distracting me, though you always give it your best shot.” He gently removed her hand, then reached over and grasped a set of keys off the counter. “I’ll meet you at your apartment as soon as Mrs. Baxter gets here.” He slapped the cold metal keys into her open palm and leaned close, brushing his warm lips over hers.
“With what? I’m taking your SUV. Don’t worry. I’ll meet you back here as soon as I’m finished.” She could soothe Amanda, then leave her in competent hands.
“At least call me the minute you’re through.”
“Yes, sir. Anyone ever tell you you’re bossy?”
A sad smile crossed his face. “My brother.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wishing she could permanently ease his pain. But she knew from her own fragile emotions that he’d live with some variation of the hurt for the rest of his life.
He lifted his hands to her face and she savored the feel of his strong touch against her skin. “I love you.” She spoke honestly, without thinking. She wrapped her arms around his neck, meeting him halfway for a kiss that melted her defenses. Though Chelsie felt safe in his arms, the kiss was anything but. All the passion, heat, and tangled emotions threatened to overwhelm her.
A sheen of perspiration coated his forehead. His breathing sounded labored. “You’d better get going,” he murmured.
Chelsie smiled, finding it difficult to catch her own breath. “ ’Bye.”
It wasn’t until she reached the shelter that she realized she had told Griff the truth. But not the truth that mattered most.
* * *
“You keep showing up unexpectedly and I’ll have to charge you rent.” Griff unlocked the storm door for Ryan.
Morning had turned into afternoon and then to early evening without a word from Chelsie. Griff understood her preoccupation with Amanda’s plight and, as a lawyer, understood that emergencies arose even on weekends. But his concern grew with each passing minute.
Ryan chuckled and, as usual, brushed past Griff into the house. “I take it you won’t be needing my baby-sitting services any longer?”
“Quit fishing for information. I haven’t needed your services in months. Consider yourself greatly appreciated but now unemployed.”
“Right. Miss Russell is filling in.” Ryan paused to plant a kiss on Alix’s cheek. She reciprocated with a wet one on his lips, causing him to chuckle. “Speaking of Chelsie…”
“I wasn’t,” Griff said. Thinking of her, definitely, but not sharing his personal thoughts, even with Ryan.
“I was. I did you a favor.” Ryan held out a manila envelope.
Griff glanced at the distinctive packet. He’d seen the results of Ryan’s investigations one too many times to be mistaken. “I thought I told you to leave her alone.”
“Friends help friends.” Ryan tossed the envelope onto the cocktail table. “Your decision,” he said and turned to play with Alix.
Knowing he had to get rid of the information before Chelsie returned, Griff scowled at Ryan before swiping the offending envelope from the table. He walked straight upstairs and into his office, placing the file in the top drawer of his desk. He saw no reason to upset Chelsie by telling her that a private investigator, Ryan of all people, had looked into her past. He’d dump the file later, when he could eliminate it permanently.
Griff had no intention of reading any information Chelsie didn’t disclose on her own. She’d indicated earlier that they had to talk, and he felt sure she would confide in him over time.
A lifetime, he realized with sudden clarity.
He’d known for a while that they couldn’t continue an affair with a two-year-old child in the house. In his heart, he knew he wanted Chelsie forever. He just wished his mind, so cluttered with images of the past, would leave him alone. But Chelsie had helped him begin to heal.
She cared about
him
, not what he could give her, buy her, or do for her. No woman had given him that gift before. For that reason alone, he trusted her enough to attempt to build a future.
He glanced at his watch. What the hell was taking her so long?
“Hey, Ryan.” Griff bounded back downstairs and imposed on his long-time friend one more time.
* * *
“So you went home for your son’s favorite stuffed animal.” Chelsie sat with Amanda in one of the few empty rooms of the shelter.
Posters cluttered the beige walls in an attempt to brighten what should have been a morose and depressing atmosphere. Anyone who made this place a pit stop had left severe problems outside these walls, but many brought children along with them. And where there were children, there was hope.
“Stupid, huh? It’s just that he hasn’t slept since we got here over a week ago.”
Chelsie clasped her hands together while attempting to formulate a reasonable response, one that didn’t take emotion into account. “You’re a good mother, Amanda. But some risks are just too great. You gambled with this one.”
The other woman bent her head, causing her dark hair to fall forward and obscure her face from view.
“Jeff was home. Did he hurt you?”
“No. Just begged me to come back.”