Perfect Partners (6 page)

He leaned forward in his seat.

“I’m sorry for prying,” she said. “But you did begin this inquiry into personal matters. Can’t blame me for playing the same game.”

“A little girl’s life isn’t a game.”

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it.”

Truth be told, he did. “Look, I was engaged and it didn’t work out. Last I heard, a monogamous relationship couldn’t be classified as having an active social life.” When had this turned into a foray into
his
personal life? And why had he chosen to confide even a sparse summary to Chelsie Russell?

He shook his head. “Back to you. Couldn’t you put whatever it is on hold for a while?”

“Absolutely not.” With another sigh, she released her hair from its binding. She ran her fingers through the tangled strands. “I said I’d like to help with Alix, but I didn’t envision a scheduled commitment, one that she’d come to rely on.” Her expressive eyes glazed over and she looked beyond him to a picture on the wall.

Another woman who couldn’t handle the complications of both Griff and his niece. He should have known better than to think he could change Chelsie’s mind. All the cajoling and mutual desire in the world wouldn’t alter the status quo.

“I’ve got to get back to Alix. I heard your reasons and I accept them. Thanks anyway.” Exhaustion overcame him, seeping in like a familiar but unwelcome visitor. He’d groveled enough for one evening, and he still had to make it through another sleepless night.

Chelsie followed him down the small entryway, holding the door open as he stepped into the hall. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she looked distraught. But he had to be mistaken. Of the two of them, he’d been the one put through the emotional wringer tonight. She’d merely had the pleasure of watching.

“ ’Night, Chelsie.” He strode toward the bank of elevators.

“Griff?”

At the sound of her soft voice, he turned. “Yes?” A glimmer of hope flickered to life inside him.

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, shaking her head instead. Alone in the empty hallway, she appeared small and frail, in need of protection, of his arms wrapped around her slender waist. The elevator door opened, preventing him from acting on his unwanted desires.

Griff steeled himself against his warring emotions and stepped inside without looking back. He leaned against the grimy wall and punched the lobby key with more force than necessary.

When would he learn? Though he thought he’d lost his ability to trust, part of him must have foolishly believed in Chelsie or else he wouldn’t have come. He’d sensed an emotional connection between his niece and the lady lawyer. Alix’s aunt, he reminded himself.

As a result, he’d nurtured a silent wish that Chelsie would turn out to be different from the other women he’d known.

He stifled a bitter laugh. Chelsie wasn’t different, just better at stringing him along. She had no more interest in Alix than her parents had.

*     *     *

Chelsie’s hands shook as she poured herself a cup of herbal tea. Any residual effects of her relaxation session were long gone. Stress and tension coiled every muscle in her body. The look of disappointment in Griff’s eyes had nearly destroyed her.

When had his opinion begun to count? 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. She’d learned that lesson in life the hard way.

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 ask for her help. He’d been willing to 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 tried unsuccessfully to push aside the sensual images she’d evoked.

Though he still wore trousers from his day at work, he’d stripped to his T-shirt, giving Chelsie a glimpse of his 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 Elsa and Ana 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.

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.

“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.

What was happening here? 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