Perfect Partners

by Carly Phillips

  “I won’t deny you future visits once this situation resolves itself,” he assured her.

  She nodded slowly. “That’s good. But if I’m going to have any part in this, I need to know I’ll have a say in how things end. That when I stop coming by on an almost daily basis, she won’t think she’s been abandoned again.” Her voice cracked under the strain of her emotions.

  He sensed she was talking about herself as well as Alix. Even so, he could understood her point and managed a nod.

  But deep down, he knew her request wasn’t that simple. What if he wanted to end their arrangement before she felt it was time? Worse, what if he and Alix weren’t ready when Chelsie decided to call it quits? His mother had walked out. So had Deidre. He looked at the woman sitting across from him, her angular jaw set, her fists clenched, and her dark eyes full of emotion. She already affected him on too many levels. How in the hell had he gotten into this mess?

  Alix cried out in her sleep. Griff jumped to his feet, but she’d quieted again. He’d need to check on her in a minute.

  “So we’re good?” Chelsie asked.

  Leaning against the mantel for support, he focused on the ever-present picture of Jared. Help me out here, little brother. No response came.

  Griff thought of his niece. Did Chelsie’s ability to hurt him really matter in the grand scheme of things? Hell, yes. Did he have a choice? Absolutely not.

  He looked at Chelsie. “You’ll always be important to Alix, her one link to her mother. You’ll get a vote in how things go,” he said with more certainty than he felt.

  “Thank you.” Her eyes misted, sparkling with unshed tears.

  “You’re welcome.” Griff sensed her reaction went beyond gratitude about their niece. He’d missed an important clue, a key to understanding Chelsie better. But he wasn’t about to push. Alix needed him and they’d covered enough ground for one night. There would be plenty more.

  * * *

  Chelsie sat across from Mrs. Baxter at the kitchen table. The older woman finished the last of her dinner and placed her napkin down.

  “This is the first night Mr. Stuart hasn’t made it home for dinner since I started working here.”

  Chelsie smiled. “That’s because his practice is picking up. There’s not a lawyer alive who doesn’t understand the meaning of long hours. Don’t throw your food, sweetie.” She bent to retrieve the vegetables Alix had not so subtly dropped on the floor.

  “Well, I’m sure he feels more comfortable staying out knowing you’re here.”

  “I’m sure he does.”

  Griff probably welcomed the reprieve from the polite formality of the last few evenings. Please pass the salt. Thanks. Silence. Please pass the potatoes. Thank you. More silence. Dessert? None for me, thanks. Chelsie nearly cringed at the memory. Only Alix had rescued them from freezing around each other completely.

  “Since you’ve agreed to come by, he’s much more relaxed. Even Alix senses the change.”

  Chelsie arched an eyebrow. Had the older woman slept through the last few evenings? “Relaxed is hardly the word I’d use.” Chelsie redirected Alix’s spoon away from her hair.

  “I’m not talking about the cold war you two have set up.” Mrs. Baxter chuckled. “Tension’s been so thick you could cut it with a butter knife.” She patted Chelsie’s hand. “You’ll get used to each other. This arrangement’s a blessing.”

  “You mean you don’t mind? I was concerned you’d feel slighted.”

  “By you? You’re her aunt, for goodness sake. Besides, before I took this job, I suggested to Mr. Stuart that he might want to hire someone younger for this position. Cooking, cleaning, keeping up with a two year old. Whew,” she said, wiping a hand over her brow.

  Chelsie laughed, but she knew the woman’s gray hair was an illusion and that she had both the stamina and the desire to care for the little girl. “What did he say?”

  “That he didn’t need some young girl practicing at playing mommy. Asked me if I could handle the job, and when I agreed, he hired me. But I don’t mind telling you, the days are long.”

  “How have the nights been this past week?” Chelsie knew her scheduled time with the little girl, as well as with Griff, hinged upon Alix’s moods and sleeping patterns.

  “After the day I put in, I pretty much sleep like the dead. Mr. Stuart says they’re still the same. But Alix isn’t. She’s a happier child.”

  “I’m glad for that, but time works miracles. Like I told Griff, you might find her emotional recovery and my presence are just coincidence.”

  She shook her head. “Nonsense. Anyway, you lighten my load, and that’s a big help.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s only temporary.”

  “We’ll see.” A kindly smile touched Mrs. Baxter’s lips.

  Chelsie ignored the comment. If the older woman held out any hopes of something permanent forming between her and Griff, she’d be disappointed. They could barely manage to relax enough to be in the same room. Not that Chelsie wasn’t fully aware of him every moment they were together. She just wasn’t fool enough to act on the attraction.

  Chelsie reached for the dirty dishes.

  “I can handle things in here,” Mrs. Baxter said, taking the plate out of Chelsie’s hands.

  “Okay. I’ll give little Miss Manners here a bath.”

  She scooped up the child and began the ritual that was now second nature. Funny how fast she’d fallen into the mommy role. The thought frightened her, because it was the very thing she’d promised herself would not happen.

  A little while later, Chelsie had Alix in the tub. The little girl shrieked and smacked her chubby hands against the water, causing a small wave to cascade over the side and drench Chelsie’s shirt. She pulled at the beige silk camisole and groaned. “Good going, squirt. Now I’ll have to stop home before I go back to the office.”

  A last-minute hearing in the judge’s chambers had delayed her, so she’d had no time to go home and change clothing. She glanced down and frowned. Obviously, taking off her suit jacket hadn’t been the way to avoid getting soaked. That she couldn’t stay one step ahead of a two year old was more embarrassing than she cared to admit.

  The little girl laughed and splashed again. Chelsie chuckled and resigned herself to another long night. Griff might hope to gain sleep from this arrangement, but Chelsie certainly could not. Between her heavy caseload, her volunteer work at the shelter, and her hours with the Stuarts, she had little, if any, time left for sleep.

  Despite all the pain that could result from this arrangement, she wouldn’t give up one second of her time with Alix. Chelsie knelt over the edge of the bathtub and attempted to rinse shampoo out of the squirming child’s hair.

  Alix splashed again. Chelsie laughed and splashed back. Why not? Her shirt was already saturated and the little girl loved the water play. After exhausting both herself and Alix, Chelsie attempted to pull her out of the tub, though by the child’s screams of protest, Chelsie was the only one worn out.

  “Mrs. Baxter had the right idea. Maybe I should have volunteered for dish-washing detail,” she murmured.

  “And here I thought bath time was the highlight of your evening.”

  Chelsie whipped around, startled by the sound of Griff’s voice. Her heart fell into a steady staccato rhythm. “I thought you wouldn’t be home until late.”

  “And miss spending time with my favorite girl?” The reference definitely referred to Alix, but his gaze lingered on Chelsie much longer than necessary.

  His eyes smoldered, heating her body with a glance. No one, including her ex-husband, had ever looked at her quite that way before. She relished the feeling.

  Chelsie thought she had given up on romantic fantasies long ago. The first time her husband had hit her, he’d attributed it to a stressful day at work. She’d accepted his apology. The second time he’d displayed his temper had been over a burned meal. Though she hadn’t understood, she’d believed his promise of nevermore. But she’d never lo
oked at him the same way again.

  And he’d never gazed at her as if nothing else in the world mattered. Not in the beginning and certainly not after … a flash of memory hit her without warning. She was teetering in shock, a large shadow looming over her. She raised her hand to cover herself and shuddered.

  “Hey, you okay? Chelsie!”

  Griff s deep familiar voice rescued her from the past and the dark memories she thought she’d banished from her waking hours.

  With a gentleness she’d only seen him use on Alix, he brushed her damp bangs out of her eyes.

  “You okay?” he asked again, as his fingers trailed down her cheek, lingering for a moment before he pulled back.

  “I’m fine.” Her voice quivered. She was embarrassed by her mental lapse into the past.

  “Forgive me for saying this, but you don’t look fine.” The concern in those hazel-colored eyes touched a place deep inside her. When he dropped his defenses, she felt transported back to the days before her naive belief in happily ever after had been shattered.

  “Exhaustion,” she said with a forced smile. “Every once in a while, my schedule catches up with me. I’m okay. You’ve got enough to worry about without adding me to your list.”

  She swallowed hard, determined to ignore Griff’s furrowed brows and blatant look of disbelief. But the masculine scent of his cologne made ignoring him impossible. The woodsy fragrance heightened her senses. His mere presence obliterated her memory until she almost believed the past didn’t matter. But it did. There wasn’t a man out there who’d think otherwise, Griffin Stuart included. Alix was his niece, not his flesh and blood. He would want his own children. Though Chelsie could offer many things, she could never give him that.

  Flustered, she glanced down and busied herself closing the baby shampoo and wrestling a rubber duck out of Alix’s playful hands.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.” She’d survived the past five years by making the best of whatever life brought her way. No sense in changing things now. Moments like this were rare. She ought to cherish them. Heaven knew, she wouldn’t have many more in her life.

  Ignoring Alix’s thrashing, Chelsie scooped her up and out of the tub, wrapping her in a large bath towel. “Someone looks like a prune,” Chelsie said, tickling the little girl and drying her off at the same time.

  “Why don’t I take over? I’m sure she’s worn you out by now.”

  “She’s a handful, that’s for sure.”

  Alix greeted that pronouncement with a giggle and an aborted attempt to dive back into the tub.

  “Proof that not only do children understand everything, they live up to our expectations,” Chelsie murmured.

  “Amen. Must have learned those tricks from her daddy. Jared knew how to con me into letting him do just about anything.”

  Chelsie smiled, grateful that he’d spoken of his brother with fondness and not despair. Griff had devoted his life to Alix, but deserved to move beyond the boundaries imposed by his grief.

  “Sounds like you were the typical big brother.”

  “More like the typical father.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “But now’s not the time to get into those stories. Wouldn’t want to bore you,” he said. “Pajamas and bedtime, squirt.”

  Alix ran for her bedroom, losing the towel halfway down the hall. Griff followed, his deep laugh resonating as he walked.

  Chelsie drained the water from the tub and wiped her hands on a towel. She knew for certain she wouldn’t be bored. She couldn’t help but be curious about Griff’s long-standing relationships, Jared and Ryan included. Along with his commitment to Alix, they showed his ability to sustain healthy friendships and maintain emotional bonds, something she hadn’t encountered in a man before. Something she’d forgotten how to do herself.

  But she also understood the importance of respecting a person’s private space. By acknowledging Griff’s right to privacy, she hoped to ensure her own. Chelsie shut off the bathroom light. If she were smart, she’d join Mrs. Baxter downstairs and not watch Alix snuggle against Griff as he tucked her into bed.

  With a knowing sigh, she turned and walked toward Alix’s room instead.

  FIVE

  Chelsie didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. The scent of lilacs permeated the air, making Griff painfully aware of her presence. He placed Alix in her crib and covered her with her favorite blanket.

  “Puppy,” she said, jumping up and demanding a white ball of fur that lay on the floor. Griff retrieved the stuffed animal and coaxed Alix back into the crib.

  All the while, he sensed Chelsie’s intense scrutiny.

  He drew himself up and leaned against the rail, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the door. Chelsie met his gaze and a feeling of déjà vu crept over him. He found himself unable to look away. Like a recurring dream, he felt as if they were replaying her first night in the house. She drew a deep breath and exhaled, the action culminating in a soft sigh. Unwilling to let her see the effect she had on him, he turned toward his niece.

  He bent over and kissed Alix good night, offering a silent prayer that, for once, she’d sleep without torment. He turned and walked toward the door where Chelsie waited, but she didn’t notice him. Her pupils had dilated and she seemed distracted by her own thoughts.

  He’d caught a glimpse of that shaken expression before. Chelsie’s lost-little-girl look hit him hard. Not for the first time, he questioned what painful memories drew her out of the present and into the past. At times like this, she looked like anyone but the strong attorney who fought for the rights of others. Who fought for Chelsie?

  She met his gaze suddenly and turned away. Though Chelsie ignored him, he couldn’t do the same. He’d noticed she still wore the wet silk tank that molded against her breasts. He nearly choked on a groan. Scanning the room, he reached for her jacket.

  He touched her shoulder. Without a word, she turned to him. Tears not only shimmered in her dark eyes, but dripped down her face. He brushed her satiny skin with his thumb, catching the moisture before it fell.

  If he leaned a fraction closer, she would be in his arms. He didn’t think she would resist. She might even welcome the distraction from whatever haunted her. Though sex might be the answer to Griff’s desires, it would do nothing to dispel Chelsie’s pain. Fulfilling his needs would have to wait.

  She gave him a shaky smile and wiped the droplets with the back of her hand. “I never react rationally when I’m overtired,” she murmured.

  Pretending to accept the explanation, he nodded and held out the suit jacket. She glanced down at her chest and then back at his face. He smiled, but his eyes didn’t follow her gaze. He’d already memorized the sight of her pink nipples beneath the sheer silk.

  She rotated and allowed him to help her into the jacket. She’d met his grin with dignity. Though she flushed, she remained silent. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her out of the room, shutting the door lightly behind them.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He smiled. “No problem.”

  They stood in silence.

  “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work waiting at the office,” he finally said.

  “More than you can imagine.”

  “I’ll let you get to it, then.”

  She nodded, but didn’t make a move to leave.

  “I’m sorry I was late. I certainly didn’t mean to hold you up.”

  Chelsie shrugged and fiddled with the buttons on jacket. “I’m here for Alix.”

  Not you. The unspoken words lingered in the air. He didn’t believe her, and the realization startled him. As an attorney, he recognized the many ways open to a client determined not only to withhold information, but to remain detached from the surrounding proceedings.

  Chelsie exhibited classic symptoms. She couldn’t meet his gaze. She fiddled with unimportant tasks and any object in the vicinity of her hands. She reiterate
d her point ad nauseam. It’s a temporary arrangement. I’m here for Alix. We’re here for our niece. How many times would she repeat the refrain? As many as it took for her to believe the words herself.

  Just a week ago, Griff would have used her own defenses against her, jumping on his belief in her eagerness to end the arrangement and abandon them both before Alix was ready.

  Now he saw, all too clearly, that Chelsie fought her own inner battles that had nothing to do with him. Did that mean he had forgiven her past mistakes? Decided she had nothing in common with Deidre and his mother? On those points, he’d reserve judgment.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  He nodded.

  She walked away, then stopped to glance back at him. “Tomorrow’s no good. It’s my sleep-over night at the shelter.”

  He clamped down on his disappointment. “The next day, then.”

  She nodded and rushed down the hall.

  Griff leaned against the wall and groaned. Bad enough the sexual attraction grew with each passing day. But did Chelsie Russell have to tug at his already battered heart? He hadn’t a clue how to kill his growing feelings. Worse, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

  * * *

  Griff eased himself into the worn booth at the diner. “Sorry I’m late. A client wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  Ryan shrugged. “Refill. Coffee, black,” he reminded the passing waitress. “And a BLT.”

  The woman looked at Griff. He glanced at his watch and shook his head, so she placed her pad in her apron and moved on.

  Food would have to wait. “I’m already half an hour late to put Alix into bed and I still have a quick meeting with a client.”

  He and Ryan always met on Wednesday nights if Griff could manage it.

  “You look exhausted. An all nighter?” Griff asked his friend.

  “I spent last night staked out in front of some dive in the ‘Combat Zone’,” Ryan said.

  “Boston’s answer to sleaze. What were you doing in a red-light district?”

  “Domestic dispute.”