Ryan rose and tossed the soda can into the recycling bin beneath the cabinet under the sink. “There’s loyalty for you. I’m going, but one thing first.”
Griff reached for the handle on the door. “What’s that?” He opened the door to see Chelsie on the other side.
“Invite me to the wedding,” Ryan said as he paused in front of her.
“What wedding is that?” she asked.
Ryan shrugged. “Ask your partner. Good seeing you again, Chels.”
“You too, Ryan,” she said to his retreating back.
The door closed behind him and Griff got his first good look at Chelsie. Cheeks flushed and eyes bright, she stood before him, waving a piece of paper in her hand. The piece of paper.
Griff held his breath.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Come.” He reached out and took her hand, leading her into the family room. With both hands on her shoulders, he eased her onto the soft cushions. “What is it you said to me when I proposed you help out with Alix?” he asked her.
She looked at him, puzzled.
He wondered if his heart had ever beat so hard or so fast. He wondered if he’d ever had as much at stake. “Let me remind you. You asked what would happen when I decided Alix was doing well enough to throw you out of her life again.”
She glanced down at the custody papers in her hands. “I still don’t understand what you meant… why you…”
“I gave you unconditional joint custody. Any schedule you want, any way you want.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll take her away from you somehow? You aren’t worried that maybe my parents will use this against you to sue for custody again?”
“Your parents. Well, they’re the unknown in all this. They’re a risk,” he admitted. One he’d struggled with long and hard all week.
But he’d accused Chelsie of wanting his ready-made family and then walked away instead of accepting her word, instead of believing she loved him separate and apart from Alix. He’d hurt her so deeply, he still saw it in her expression every time they were together.
Her shadowed eyes haunted his dreams. She was the last person he’d ever hurt intentionally. He saw only one way to make amends and hopefully assure their future. The only means he had to convince her of his trust was to offer the one thing he’d accused her of wanting more than him. His niece.
He couldn’t think of another way to bring them together, except to risk everything. He knelt down and stared into her eyes. “Listen to me. I love you. I want to marry you and be a real family. But if you can’t see beyond my mistakes, I understand. I’ll accept any type of shared custody arrangement you want. I’ll…
She cut him off by throwing her arms around his neck and toppling them both to the floor. “I take it this arrangement works for you?” he asked, out of breath but still needing to hear the words.
“I’m overwhelmed,” she said. “You’d do that for me?”
“Love you? Yes. Marry you? Yes.”
“Share custody of Alix even if I said no to your proposal,” Chelsie said softy.
“In a heartbeat.” Although right now he was fairly certain his own heart had stopped.
She blinked against moist eyes. “Can you move?”
“Your point?” he asked. Because if she didn’t answer him soon, he might not make it another minute.
“You’re not going anywhere, Griff, and neither am I.” Chelsie looked down at the man she loved, the man who had risked his emotional nightmare to give her what he believed she needed. What he failed to realize was the depth of that love. “You didn’t need to do this. I believed you when you said you trusted me. It’s just that I can’t give you all you deserve. The family you want, a child of your own…”
He grasped her cheeks in both hands, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Your words, Chelsie. Not mine. I said more children. Our children.”
She swallowed hard and tried again. “Are you sure?”
“Sure that I love you? Yes. Sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with you? Yes to that, too.”
“Sure that you can accept not having children of your own?” She asked because she had to be sure. More importantly, he had to be sure.
His eyes never left Chelsie’s face. “I already have all that I want. And you’re right. I do want more kids.” His fingertips brushed at the tear on her cheek. “So why wouldn’t I love any child you and I decided to adopt?”
“Adopt?”
“We both love Alix as if she were our own. As long as any other children are ours to raise and love together, why would I want more?”
Her throat hurt from holding back tears. “Are you sure?”
“That again?” he asked with a grin. He pulled her down onto the floor with him until his arms encircled her, squeezing her so tight she couldn’t help but be certain. “I’m sure,” he whispered. “Are you?”
Beyond words, Chelsie merely nodded. She had all she ever wanted and more than she’d ever dreamed.
“Now that we’ve got that settled, we can plan ahead.”
She lay her head on his shoulder and felt his strength. He’d be there for her always. She laughed. “Okay, let’s plan,” she agreed.
“For starters, I guess it’s a good thing you sublet your apartment after all.”
She feigned a loud gasp and propped herself up to look at the face she adored. “But what about that town house I rented?”
Panic flared in his eyes, causing her to shake her head in laughter and denial. “Gotcha,” Chelsie said with a grin, grateful for the love and the laughter she had found.
“That you do,” he whispered.
She wrapped her arms around him, thankful she’d been given so much.
“I don’t plan on ever letting you go.”
She smiled. “Who asked you to?”
“No more doubts? Because from now on, we share everything, good and bad.”
Chelsie smiled. “I’ll share my life with you, Griff. All you had to do was ask.”
Thank you so much for reading Perfect Partners. I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book too. Please recommend to others and leave a review.
Other Carly Classics
The Right Choice
Suddenly Love (formerly titled Kismet)
Perfect Partners
Unexpected Chances (formerly titled Midnight Angel)
Keep up with Carly and her upcoming books:
Website:
www.carlyphillips.com
Sign up for Carly’s Newsletter:
http://www.carlyphillips.com/newsletter-sign-up/
Carly on Facebook:
www.facebook.com/CarlyPhillipsFanPage
Carly on Twitter:
www.twitter.com/carlyphillips
CARLY’S MONTHLY CONTEST!
Visit: http://www.carlyphillips.com/newsletter-sign-up/ and enter for a chance to win a $25 gift card! You’ll also automatically be added to her newsletter list so you can keep up on the newest releases!
If you enjoy books on the steamier side, don’t miss my “Dare To Love” series. Read on for an excerpt of Dare to Surrender…
Dare to Surrender
Excerpt
Get DARE TO SURRENDER now!!
Prologue
Gabe
Gabriel Dare eyed the beautiful woman with the bright smile that didn’t reach her eyes, hoping his bland expression concealed the intense emotions she roused inside him. Protective instincts the likes of which he’d never experienced before. The desire to sweep her into his arms, breathe in her unique scent no designer could have created, and steal her away from this god-awful staid country club was strong.
He had an endless supply of beautiful women all eager to share his bed, including Naomi, his latest affair, and yet they did nothing for him except accompany him on endless nights like this one. And take the edge off his need. True satisfaction hadn’t existed for him in far too long.
He was bored. Unless he was watching
her. Then the perfection and elegance of the Hamptons club vanished, and she was all he saw.
Blonde hair fell down her back in less-than-perfect waves, defying the stick-straight look most women preferred. Her lush, sexy body, so unlike the females he normally bedded, had his hands itching to learn those curves and show her what true pleasure really was. She was unattainable, living with one of Wall Street’s stars, but she could do so much better.
Oddly, it wasn’t her lack of availability that appealed. She was bright, witty, and she could hold her own with just about anyone, making whoever she spoke to feel important. He admired that trait. They hadn’t spent more than a few minutes here and there in each other’s company, but she’d taken his breath away from the first look.
Gabe would do just about anything to attain something he wanted, but he drew the line at poaching on another man’s territory. Still, he had to admit she tested even his willpower, and he’d had practice at being alone. He’d married young and miscalculated badly. Afterwards, he’d been certain that after Krissie’s death, for which he felt responsible, the smart thing would be to keep a safe emotional distance from women.
One look at Isabelle Masters and he’d changed his mind. There was something about her that filled the emptiness inside him. To the point where just watching her was enough to calm his usually restless soul. Unfortunately, they didn’t run into each other nearly often enough.
Gabe ran a hand through his hair, groaning as he caught sight of Naomi making her way toward him, a cocktail plate with one celery stick and a carrot in her hand. His gaze darted to Isabelle as she crossed the room in the opposite direction, careful to avoid him as long as the man she lived with was around.
She was taken, and all he could do was admire. Look and not touch. But if she ever became available, all bets were off.
Chapter One
Isabelle
He begged me not to walk out the door. I did it anyway. The scariest part? How much I wanted to go. I’d spent years of my life fully invested in a relationship I’d thought meant everything to me. How could all the emotion disappear?
The answer came to me as I stood in the dark driveway by my car, the only light coming from the headlights of the vehicle I’d turned on with the push of a remote. The feelings had drained away, diminishing slowly from something I’d hoped would be full and wonderful at the age of twenty-two to something painfully empty by the time I’d reached twenty-five. I wasn’t old, but at this moment, I felt ancient and weary down to my bones.
I glanced up just as the first drop of rain touched my face. Normally I’d pull up a hood and protect my out-of-control curly hair from frizz, worried about how I’d look to Lance and the carefully chosen people with whom he surrounded himself. He called them friends, but none knew the meaning of the word. Instead, I embraced the wildness of the storm that suddenly threatened to release from the heavens. Each warm droplet hit and spread across my cheeks, cleansing my skin and my soul. The wind took flight, lifting my hair, blowing strands onto my face and setting the rest of me free.
“Isabelle!” Lance yelled down from the window he’d opened on the second floor of his Hamptons summer home. It had been too long since I’d considered any part of it mine. If I ever had.
I unwillingly looked up.
“You’ve had your tantrum. Now come back inside, and we’ll talk like civilized people. You don’t want to cause a scene in front of the neighbors.”
Heaven forbid, I thought, sparing a last glance at the place I’d lived for too long. The house was Lance Daltry’s showplace, just as I had been nothing more than an accessory. I may have organized his personal life and thrown obligatory dinner parties, but I’d contributed nothing of substance. He’d never allowed me to spend any of the money I’d earned before I’d quit my interior design job. Unnecessary, he’d said. If I loved him, I’d stay home and take care of the house. More like he’d wanted control, and I’d given it to him.
Luckily for me, I’d saved a good amount from those early days. Not so luckily, I’d let Lance invest my money and maintain control of those accounts. And what were the chances that money would be available for my withdrawal on Monday morning? I closed my eyes at the thought.
Although I’d been in Manhattan for a couple of years by the time I’d met Lance, I was still the naïve girl who’d taken a bus from a small town near Niagara Falls and traveled to the big city alone. Too bad I hadn’t had the street smarts to peg Lance for the phony he’d turned out to be.
“Isabelle!” He yelled down to me again, not bothering to come out in the rain to talk to me, let alone apologize like a man. Not when the rain would ruin his thousand-dollar suit and hundred-dollar haircut.
Not talking, I thought silently, and merely shook my head.
Talk was what had gotten me to remain in a relationship I knew I didn’t want with a man I couldn’t trust; it was what had convinced me that Lance, a Wall Street trader, was my soul mate when, in the deepest part of my heart, I knew there was no such thing. And most humiliating, talk was what had led me to believe his lies, despite knowing I wasn’t truly satisfied with him or in his gilded cage.
I didn’t need therapy to tell me why I’d been so susceptible to Lance’s charm and desire to own me. The childhood I didn’t like to think about held the answers. But having escaped him now, one thing was certain. I wasn’t going back.
“Would you quit being a child and get back here!” Lance tried once more, patronizing me even though he was the one in the wrong. Another favorite ploy of his.
Shaking, I climbed into my beloved car, slamming the door and escaping Lance’s tirade. I started the engine and paused, breathing in deep, the events of the last few minutes rushing through my brain like a bad film.
I’d been on our shared laptop, searching for recipes I’d stored there. Seeing a file I didn’t recognize, I’d clicked. And the graphic, sexual images of a naked and sweaty Lance along with my beautiful neighbor, who’d dared to call herself my friend, had flashed on the screen. Nausea had risen at the visual proof of what I’d only suspected before.
I shivered at the memory of those images, proud of how I’d walked out without a word—or a suitcase. My body was frozen, my heart encased in ice. Although I could turn on the heated seats, the reminder of what it felt like to be numb with betrayal would keep me safe in the future.
I turned on the ignition, but surprisingly, no water works mixed with the dampness from the rain. Instead, adrenaline raced through my veins faster than even my beloved car could take a highway. I ought to be afraid. Panicked. Yearning to turn around and go back to the security I’d known.
My foot pressed the accelerator, and I backed out of the driveway without looking back. I might not know where I’d go or what I’d do, but I was moving forward. At last.
On the satellite radio, the 1980s Bugles song proclaimed that video killed the radio star. Untrue, I thought, as I drove into the dark night. Radio had thrived anyway. And tonight, though video killed my dream of living happily ever after in a life I thought I’d carefully crafted to prevent loneliness, those graphic sexual images of betrayal wouldn’t destroy me. Instead, they’d set me free.
* * *
Isabelle: Out of the Frying Pan
I was arrested a mile outside of Manhattan. Grand theft auto, the cop said. Bullshit, I replied. The baby Benz belonged to me.
Still, he cuffed me and hauled me to the nearest police station. He said his name was Officer Dare, and he was a dark-haired man, tall, taller than Lance, who prided himself on his height, and broader beneath his uniform, from what I could tell. His intense expression never wavered. All seriousness, all the time, but I sensed he’d be handsome if he smiled. So far, he hadn’t.
Once inside the typical-looking police station—not that I’d seen the inside of one before, but what I’d thought one would look like from watching Law and Order—he sat me beside his wooden desk and cuffed me to the desk.
I ought to be scared, but some stupid
part of me had already decided this new part of my life was some grand adventure. At least it was until Officer Dare asked me to empty my pockets and divested me of my last five hundred dollars, cash I’d taken from the extra stash I kept in my nightstand.
He thumbed through the bulging stack of twenties in never-ending silence.
The money represented my lifeline. “I’ll need to eat when I get out of here,” I told my jailer.
He didn’t look up. “You’ll get it back.”
“All of it?” I asked as if I seriously believed a member of the police force would take a down-on-her-luck woman’s chance at food.
He set his jaw in annoyance. “We log it and count it. In front of you. I was just about to do that … ma’am.”
For some inane reason, I burst out laughing. I’d gone from living in denial to homeless and arrested in a ridiculously short time. This whole turn in my life really was absurd.
I rubbed my free hand up and down over one arm. “Don’t I get one phone call?”
He nodded and reached for the telephone on the desk.
I frowned, suddenly realizing I had no one to call. Lance was out of the question, and our friends were really his friends. As for my parents, they didn’t remember my birthday, so something told me a late-night call to pick up their daughter from jail would not be their number-one priority.
“Never mind,” I said softly.
The officer stared at me, confused. “Now you don’t want to use the phone?”
“No thank you.” Because I was totally, utterly alone.
Nausea rose like bile in my throat, and I dug my nails into my palms. When I forced myself to breathe deeply, the familiar burning in my chest returned, and I realized I’d walked away without the one thing I never left home without, and it wasn’t my license.
Perfect Partners Page 20
