Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set

by Carly Phillips

  “Maybe she’s building that reputation, but seems to me it’s the other way around. Unlike some women, she gives. Doesn’t take.”

  “Sure she does. You’re just a sucker for a pretty face.”

  “Still bitter, huh? I guess it hasn’t been that long, but I’d say you’re better off without the witch.”

  “Drop it, Jackson.” His fiancée hadn’t had the decency to wait until Griff had buried his brother before she dumped him, his new charge, and a lifestyle that didn’t fit into her plans. She’d turned out to be no better than the mother who had abandoned him as a child. Without a six-figure salary, Griff held little appeal. Deidre had stuck around only as long as he remained a partner at the largest firm in the city of Boston.

  “What’s all this hostility about anyway? The lady was just doing her job,” Ryan said.

  “A job that no self-respecting attorney would have taken. But hey, representing her parents must have garnered her some pretty wealthy clients.”

  Who cared if her own niece suffered in the process? Not Chelsie Russell. She’d proven her priorities. Morals and ethics weren’t among them. He didn’t ask himself why he cared so damned much that she’d disappointed him.

  “The old folks did a number on her, couldn’t you see that? Besides, somebody had to take their case. Everyone is entitled to legal representation. Isn’t that the first thing they teach you in law school?”

  Griff mumbled an expletive and caught Alix by the back of her shirt. “Hold it, squirt.” The child stilled for all of two seconds before she took off to circle the pillar again. At least she’d stopped long enough to hand him the carrot and put two orange hand prints on his white shirt

  “Tell me something,” Ryan said, in his I-know-something-even-you-don’t tone of voice. “What’s really bothering you? The fact that the Russells dragged you through a dirty court battle or that the lovely Miss Russell played opposing counsel?”

  Griff cocked an eyebrow at Ryan. “What the hell do you think? I just spent the day fighting for custody of my brother’s child,” he said in a hushed yet angry voice. His niece was young, but bright. Griff didn’t want her to remember any more of this awful day than was necessary. “I’d be furious no matter who tried to take Alix away from me.”

  “Right.”

  “Chelsie has nothing to do with this,” Griff said in response to Ryan’s disbelieving stare.

  Then why did thoughts of dark eyes and soft-looking skin remain embedded in his mind? And why did her heated touch course through his clothing to reach somewhere inside him he’d closed off long ago?

  Ryan shrugged. “You’re the boss. If you’re sure you’re not interested, I just might be.”

  Griff grunted in disgust “I’d bet she’s not the dirty jeans and sneakers type.”

  “Low blow for someone who isn’t interested.”

  “Shut up and let’s get out of here.”

  “Mommy,” Alix said.

  Griff shook his head.

  “Mommy,” she wailed.

  “Oh, hell,” Griff mumbled as he took her little hand and walked to the door.

  * * *

  Griff popped the trunk of the family-style sedan and collected as many grocery bags as he could carry. After three trips to the house and back, he’d unloaded most of the packages. He marveled at the amount of food and other items necessary to care for a two year old. Since his niece had become a permanent part of his life, his purchases had expanded immensely. Diapers were but one new addition.

  After lifting the last bag, he slammed the trunk closed. Alix’s appetite amazed him. So did the fact that he’d traded in his beloved convertible for what the salesman had termed “the ultimate family car.” Griff had nearly choked on the word family. That was before the man had slapped him on the back and cracked, “Must have been one hell of an argument. This baby’s a lot more expensive than flowers or candy.”

  Griff grimaced at the memory. His sports car hadn’t netted much as a trade-in. The guy was a crook, taking Griff’s convertible for much less than what he’d paid. Still, he had to admit the man’s views on women were sound. At this moment, Griff didn’t have a hell of a lot of respect for the gender. He and Alix were a family. There wasn’t a chance the twosome would turn into three.

  He left the packages on the kitchen counter and went to trade places with Mrs. Baxter. After a day with an active two year old, the older woman probably needed a rest, unless the past few weeks of sleepless nights had finally caught up with Alix and she’d taken a nap. The poor little girl could use the sleep.

  So, for that matter, could he. He was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. His life as a bachelor had left him ill-equipped to handle his niece and her night terrors, or whatever demons prevented the child from sleeping soundly.

  The sliding glass door in the kitchen led to a grassy backyard. Griff followed the sound of Alix’s giggles to the large willow tree located on the side of the property. Her carefree laughter surprised him. Though she’d taken to Mrs. Baxter, Alix remained reserved around the older woman. Griff’s concern was diminished somewhat by the fact that his office was now located in the upstairs level of his two-family house. He’d open his practice next week. Should a problem arise, Alix would rarely be far from his sight.

  Childlike laughter echoed in the air and Griff smiled. For once, life seemed to be looking up. He turned the corner of the house and stared. Alix sat cuddled in Chelsie Russell’s lap. Chelsie’s brown hair ruffled in the breeze and she looked down, struggling to keep the light wind from turning the pages of a book. That Alix’s little fingers kept grabbing pages made the task more difficult. “More.” His niece’s voice drifted towards him. He stepped closer, mesmerized by the image of the woman reading to Alix, the little girl who had become the center of his being. With their heads bent forward, dark curls ruffled by the wind, they looked so alike they could have been mother and daughter.

  Alix laughed, happier than any time in Griff’s recent memory.

  As he’d seen the last time they were together, something about Chelsie struck a chord in his niece. Whether it was Chelsie’s resemblance to her sister or something more, Chelsie reached Alix where others could not. Watching them together, Griff silently acknowledged that this woman affected him, as well.

  He remained quiet and listened to her soft voice. He searched his mind for similar images in his past, but none came. When his mother had taken off in search of a better, wealthier lifestyle, the task of raising Jared had fallen to Griff. His father tried, but juggling fatherhood and a full-time job had been difficult. As a child, Griff had been denied the uncomplicated pleasure of having a story read to him. When his little brother had gotten scared or lonely, Griff had made up exaggerated tales to distract him. No one had been there for Griff then.

  For the moment, he let Chelsie’s voice surround him. Absorbed in her tale, he allowed himself to pretend life could be different, that he could indulge in both love and trust without having them thrown back in his face.

  “The end.” Chelsie shut the book. Eyes closed, she lifted her face towards the sun. A peaceful expression touched her features, making her appear vulnerable. Soft and approachable, he thought. Almost as she had after the hearing, when she’d tried to apologize.

  Reality intruded, unbidden and unwelcome. Griff forced himself to recall why he’d never have such a loving family scene in his own home. The pleasant feelings she invoked disappeared, along with his good mood. How could he have allowed himself to feel anything for Chelsie Russell?

  “Having fun?” Careful not to upset Alix, he kept his voice neutral.

  Chelsie’s gaze met his. He couldn’t decipher the look in her eyes, though he’d like to think it was guilt.

  “I was just reading Alix a story.”

  “So I see.”

  “Butterfly,” Alix said, tossing the book towards him.

  Griff knelt down and caught Alix as she flew into his arms. He chuckled at her wide smile and grass-stained
knees. “Where’s Mrs. Baxter?” he asked, looking over the little girl’s head.

  “When I got here, she had a headache. I offered to watch Alix for a while.” Chelsie stood and wiped dirt and grass off her jeans, her long fingers brushing against the faded denim. The material molded to her slender legs—legs he could envision wrapped around him in a much more intimate setting.

  He muttered a curse and tore his gaze away from temptation, setting Alix down beside him. “Come with me, squirt. I think there’s milk and cookies in the kitchen.” Confrontation could wait until he sidetracked his niece.

  The little girl let out a squeal of delight and took off across the lawn. “I’ll be back after I find Mrs. Baxter and get Alix settled.” Without waiting for an answer, Griff turned and caught up with Alix.

  His gut instinct told him Chelsie would still be there when he got back. He and Chelsie obviously had things to settle between them. Why else would she have come?

  TWO

  Griff returned from the house to find Chelsie leaning against the tree, her legs crossed at the ankles. “I wanted to see how you and Alix were getting along,” she said without preamble.

  “Did you satisfy your curiosity?”

  “It was more than curiosity. More like genuine concern for my niece’s welfare.” Her clipped tone was at odds with the soothing manner she’d used with Alix.

  He allowed himself one second to regret the change before reminding himself why distance between them was necessary. “There’s a first time for everything,” he muttered. “Last time you acted on your genuine concern, I almost lost my brother’s child.”

  She ran her tongue along her full bottom lip and his eyes followed the movement. That he had the ability to make the hotshot attorney nervous gave him some small measure of satisfaction. Not that it dispelled the overwhelming sexual attraction, but at least it gave him something to focus on.

  “I’d like to apologize again,” she said. “My parents are... let’s just say they’re my parents, not my role models.”

  “Fine. Apology accepted.” He said nothing more. A bird chirped in the distance. Griff let the silence turn from casual to uncomfortable and Chelsie shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  “Mrs. Baxter seems nice.” She broke the silence first, but the tension remained.

  “She is.”

  “Alix seems to like her.”

  “She does.”

  Apparently, his curt answers weren’t a deterrent, because she didn’t take the hint and leave. Griff didn’t know how much longer he could fight both his anger and his hormones. As much as he disliked her, he found himself unwillingly attracted to Chelsie. He wasn’t surprised. Where women were concerned, his judgment was decidedly poor.

  “I think she enjoyed the time we spent together. When I got here, Mrs. Baxter was busy cooking dinner and Alix was playing alone.”

  “I see. So now she’s being neglected.”

  “Are you always so defensive? I wasn’t criticizing, just making an observation.”

  “In case you hadn’t caught on, I’ve had it with your interference.”

  She paused, as if deliberating her next statement. Her tongue flicked over her lower lip again, and every ounce of willpower he possessed went into taking his eyes away from the sensual movement. Desire had no place in their relationship. Hell, they didn’t even have a relationship.

  And they never would.

  Short of escorting her to the car, he could think of no way to get her out of here. But the conflicting emotions she touched off inside him were dangerous to his mental health.

  “I meant my earlier offer to help out with Alix,” she said, unwittingly giving him his escape route.

  He pounced without hesitation. “Next time you feel the need to mother, have a kid of your own. I’ll take care of Alix from now on.”

  Tears welled in her brown eyes and a corresponding pain filled his gut. One look at her expression and he almost reconsidered, almost took her up on her offer to help. But the part of him that had been so recently betrayed rebelled at the notion. And, he reminded himself, she’d already proven how little she cared for others.

  So what was she doing here now? He pushed aside the nagging question that brought with it a flood of unwelcome guilt. He wanted to hurt her, and he had.

  “I have a legal right to visit my niece,” she said once she’d regained some of her composure.

  He disliked the reminder. “Next time call first.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but to his surprise she didn’t fight him. “Fine. Alix loved this story, so you might want to read it to her sometime.” She handed him a worn, yellow book. “It’s a little old for her, but she’ll grow into it.” Her voice cracked. She ducked her head in embarrassment and turned and ran for her car.

  He glanced down at the book she’d shoved into his hand. He didn’t recognize the title. Curious, he flipped through the tattered pages. Chelsie’s name was scrawled in block letters on the inside flap. He slid down onto the grass to read.

  Closing the front cover, he pondered the mystery of Chelsie Russell. In court, she’d represented two people guaranteed to have a detrimental effect on Alix’s life. Yet today, she’d given his niece a story about life, rebirth, and hope. Something to hold on to for the future, despite all she’d lost.

  Chelsie had obviously saved the book from her own childhood. Had she turned these same pages when she felt alone? Dammit, he shouldn’t care. He muttered another curse, then stood and headed inside.

  * * *

  Chelsie made the first right turn off Griffin’s street and stopped the car at the curb, certain she was out of his sight. Still trembling, she shoved the gear shift to park and rested her head on the steering wheel. When she had decided to check on Alix, she had told herself to expect Griffin’s anger or distrust. She realized now that she had counted on the passage of time to cool his ire. The barely concealed hatred that emanated from deep within him had taken her by surprise.

  The hard look in Griffin’s eyes, coupled with his callous words, had taken her back to another time, another place. Memories that lurked just beneath her consciousness had threatened to surface and destroy her hard-won emotional stability and calm. She centered herself with two simple words: another man.

  Not Griffin. Regardless of the depth of his anger, he’d never lose control. He wasn’t capable of physical abuse. She didn’t know how she was so certain, just that she was. Perhaps the way he looked at his niece allowed her to believe in him despite his rough edges and harsh tone.

  Her ex-husband had had more than rough edges beneath the civilized veneer. He’d acted on his anger, reacted to whatever life dished out that didn’t go his way—unlike Griffin, who accepted and tried to move on, she thought.

  No, the two men were nothing alike. But that didn’t make Griffin any less dangerous to her well-being. An attraction existed that she couldn’t deny. His harsh exterior covered a gentler side. Heaven help her should she ever be the recipient of the kinder Griffin Stuart. Thankfully, that possibility didn’t exist.

  Though she’d like to pretend this was just another completed case and walk away, she couldn’t turn her back on her sister’s child. She wouldn’t, regardless of the consequences. Being around Alix forced her to face the fact that her ex-husband’s last violent act had assured her of an empty future and no children of her own.

  Over the years following her marriage, she had learned to live in the present without getting mired in the past. Time, circumstance, and Griffin’s careless words brought the past she thought she’d buried into the present. Next time you feel the need to mother, have a kid of your own.

  She opened the car window, hoping the fresh air would clear her head. Today was an atypical August day. Instead of sweltering heat and humidity, the air felt cool, hinting at an early autumn. She normally looked forward to this particular change of seasons. For some, spring meant a time of renewal, but she preferred the fall. For Chelsie, autumn was memory free. At least it
had been, until a little girl with dark hair had captured her heart... and the child’s uncle had stomped on it.

  She slammed her hand on the wheel in frustration. Since the day she’d accepted her fate, she’d never succumbed to tears or self-pity, and she cursed Griffin Stuart for forcing her to do so now. After taking a deep breath of fresh air, she felt better. She turned the key in the ignition, but before she drove off, she had to stop and wipe the tears that blurred her vision.

  * * *

  “Thanks for coming.” Griff opened the front door for his friend.

  “No problem.” Ryan walked in, kicked off his shoes, and headed straight for the kitchen, where he opened the refrigerator and grabbed a can of cola.

  “Make yourself at home,” Griff said wryly.

  Ryan grinned. “Already have.”

  Since they were kids, neighbors in a run-down apartment building, Ryan had always reached the fridge first, usually swiping the last can of soda, leaving only tap water for Griff. For Jared, Ryan would make an exception, letting him share the victor’s spoils. Both Griff and Ryan had looked out for the pesky kid they both thought of as a little brother.

  Ryan gave his friend the once over. “You look like hell,” he said between gulps.

  Griff ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Feel like it, too.”

  “Did you get her back to sleep?”

  “Yeah.” He followed Ryan back to the living room. “But since it’s the third time, I don’t hold out much hope of her sleeping through the night.” Griff glanced towards the clock on the fireplace mantel.

  A picture of his brother and sister-in-law, taken at Alix’s first birthday, drew his attention, mocking his efforts at parenting. I’m sorry I’m letting you down. He turned his gaze to the clock at the right of the picture.

  Almost midnight. His body ached, whether from lack of sleep or bending over the crib to soothe his niece, he didn’t know. His heart ached, as well, but at least he could attribute that to a direct source. He glanced back at the photo.