“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 looked 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… in her mind, she saw herself teetering in shock, a large shadow looming over her.
She shuddered at the dark memories she thought she’d banished from her waking hours.
“Hey, you okay? Chelsie!”
Griff s deep familiar voice rescued her from the past. 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 quavered, an embarrassing reaction to his caress.
“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 this stray 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.
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.
With a knowing sigh, she turned and walked toward Alix’s room. Her brain cells must be in short supply this evening. Watching Alix snuggle against Griff as he tucked her into bed was definitely a stupid move, one she’d promised herself not to repeat.
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 crib 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?