Without warning, he jerked his arm back as if her touch repelled him. She curled her empty fingers into a fist.
Obviously, she’d been the only one to feel a powerful connection. She wouldn’t allow him to know he’d shaken her. “Look, I’m sure raising a child won’t be easy,” she began.
“I can handle it.” He folded his arms across his chest.
Her eyes followed the movement. He’d removed his suit jacket earlier. His paisley tie hung loose around his neck, and the first few buttons on his starched white shirt had been opened, revealing deeply bronzed skin.
He cleared his throat. She glanced up to find his intense eyes focused on hers. His gaze traveled the length of her body before finally settling once again on her now flushed face. But the effect of his heated gaze remained, evidenced by the tingling of her skin and the heaviness in her br**sts. An appreciative glint sparkled in the depths of his dark eyes.
She had little time to ponder his reaction or her own surprising feelings. An instant later, the steely anger returned.
“Alix and I will be fine,” he said in an abrupt voice, reminding her of all that lay between them.
Chelsie swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I just wanted to offer… I mean, if you should need help or anything…” She faltered.
“We won’t.” The chill in the air had nothing to do with the air conditioning. His cold stare told her in no uncertain terms that anything that passed between them had been one sided or existed only in her imagination.
Her overture had not been welcome. She sighed and thought of her niece. Though she had hoped to change his mind, she merely nodded her understanding.
“Look who Uncle Ryan has here.” A deep voice interrupted them.
Grateful for the temporary reprieve, she shifted her gaze. Alix bobbed up and down on the shoulders of a dark-haired man who had occasionally sat behind Griffin in the courtroom, a man who seemed as close to Griffin and Alix as any family member.
Griffin reached over, lifted his niece from Ryan’s arms, and held her close. Without warning, he tossed the two year old high, repeating the tickling episode Chelsie had seen many times that morning. The happy shrieks warmed her as nothing else could. At least her niece would have a happy life.
Seeing the smile on his face, Chelsie realized Griffin was a devastatingly handsome man. Coupled with his ability to put aside his grief for the sake of a child, Chelsie had learned much about him. She softened towards him once again.
Settled in her uncle’s arms, Alix reached out a hand and touched Chelsie’s hair. “Pretty.”
“So are you,” Chelsie said, ruffling the child’s dark curls with her fingers.
“Mommy.”
At the little girl’s heartfelt plea, pain seared Chelsie’s heart and she withdrew her hand. In truth, she had lost her sister long ago. Because Shannon’s family had represented the kind of life Chelsie wanted but would always be denied, she’d made the difficult decision to pull back from the closeness the sisters had always shared.
Chelsie had suffered through an abusive marriage for too long, a mistake that had robbed her of the ability to have children, a family. A future. Wanting her younger sister to have all she couldn’t, she had watched from the sidelines, assuring herself that Shannon’s marriage wouldn’t sour as her own had. That her sister remained happy and loved.
After a while, Chelsie had stayed away, remaining connected to her sister only by phone. Death had made the rift permanent.
“Want Mommy,” Alix said, holding her hands out towards Chelsie.
“No, sweety, I’m not Mommy.” She ignored the memories the statement brought and forcefully pushed aside the unwelcome reminders of what would never be.
“Hold me.” The little girl threw her body forward. Griffin had no choice but to release her, Chelsie no choice but to take the child into her arms and hold her close.
Ignoring his grim expression, Chelsie planted a kiss on Alix’s forehead. The sweet aroma of baby shampoo tickled Chelsie’s nose, reminding her of why she’d always tried to keep a safe distance from this adorable child. In Alix, Chelsie saw too clearly the baby she’d lost and the children she’d never have. She closed her eyes and inhaled, savoring the unfamiliar yet comforting smell.
“Mommy,” the child said, looking around.
Chelsie swallowed, forcing back the pain that lurked behind the unwelcome tears. “No, honey,” she said again in a husky voice.
Griffin exhaled a sigh and reached for Alix.
Reluctantly, Chelsie handed the little girl back to her uncle. As she returned Alix to Griffin, the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach proved she’d been right. Any connection to this little girl would come at great emotional cost. Thanks to the jarring shift in family dynamics and the painful loss of her sister, Chelsie had no choice.
Obviously, Alix needed a connection to her mother. That was the least Chelsie could offer her sister’s child. The little girl needed her, and she would reach out to Alix regardless of the emotional risk.
She met Griffin’s gaze and was startled to find his eyes trained on her face.
“I guess you look more like Shannon than I realized,” he said finally, shifting Alix in his arms. “She asks for Mommy and Daddy constantly.” As he spoke, he took two steps back. He obviously begrudged her even a simple explanation.
Chelsie bit back a sigh. As a lawyer, she should be used to uphill battles, but he seemed determined to hold more than a grudge. Despite her reservations, she’d like more time with her niece in the future. The judge’s ruling had assured her of that, but she realized now wasn’t the time to ask.
“It’ll get easier.” She cringed as the platitude escaped her lips.
He remained silent. The other man stood to one side and watched them with obvious interest. Chelsie felt the heat of his gaze and looked over. He smiled and pulled his hand from the pocket of his jeans. “Ryan Jackson.”
She grasped his hand, grateful for a friendly face in the enemy camp. “Chelsie Russell. Nice to meet you.”
At the exchange of pleasantries, Griffin’s gaze settled on their intertwined fingers and his expression darkened.
She picked up her briefcase. “As I said, I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do…”
“There’s not.” He didn’t bother to couch his anger with niceties.
She sympathized with his pain, but did not have to take his abuse. “Right.” She reached out to Alix, fingering her soft curls between her fingers.