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 br**sts. 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 ni**les 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 crimson, 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 her lapel. “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 reiterated 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.
She closed the last button on her suit, hiding all evidence of the beautiful body beneath. “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, but since Griff had started his own practice, Ryan had grown used to Griff’s no-shows. “You look exhausted. An all nighter?”
“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.”
“I thought you didn’t take those kind of cases anymore. Breaking up marriages made you sick, or some such nonsense.” Griff snorted. “If you ask me, anyone who hires you for a case like that is halfway to a divorce already.”
Ryan shook his head. “Still cynical as ever, I see.”
“Like I don’t have a reason,” Griff muttered.
Ryan cocked an eyebrow. “Back to the all-women-are-alike mentality?” he asked.
“Aren’t they?”
“I don’t know. Was your sister-in-law anything like Deidre?”
That gave him pause. In truth, he’d always liked his brother’s wife. Never once during the frequent family dinners and nights he’d shown up unannounced had he ever sensed a similarity between his aloof fiancée and the warm, loving woman his brother had married. Nor had he seen a comparison to his mother, who’d earned the name only by giving birth to two children.
“No,” he reluctantly admitted. “Shannon was unique.”
“She was special, but not unique. Exceptions to every rule,” his friend said with a smug grin.
Were there? Griff couldn’t help thinking of Chelsie. She was Shannon’s sister, and blood counted for something. If the past few weeks were any indication, Chelsie might well be more like her sister than like her wealthy, selfish parents.
Time would tell.
“Maybe you just haven’t found the exception of your own,” Ryan suggested.
Maybe he had and wasn’t ready to accept it. “Don’t you ever get tired of spouting advice?” Griff asked. “Maybe if you didn’t spend every night on surveillance, you’d have a life of your own and could quit worrying about mine.”
Ryan didn’t answer, a rarity in and of itself.
“So what were you doing last night, anyway?” Griff asked.
“Family favor.”
“Your sister?”
“Yeah. For once, I didn’t mind the boredom. I came up empty.” He formed a zero with this thumb and forefinger.