“Okay. Let’s go.”
He wrinkled his nose. “What’s that smell?”
“Rubbing alcohol. Reduces fever.”
Within minutes, they had Alix in her car seat and were headed for the hospital. “Where did all this knowledge about children come from, anyway?” Griff asked, keeping his eye on the road.
Chelsie swallowed hard and thought quickly. “Working at the shelter,” she explained. During her brief pregnancy, she had read all she could about infant and child care, waiting for the day she’d hold her own baby in her arms. No point in explaining that to Griff now.
“Oh.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “She’ll be fine. Lots of kids run high fevers with things as minor as an ear infection,” she said for his benefit. He looked pale and shaken and about to fall apart. “I’ve seen things like this before.” Whether or not Alix’s illness was as simple as she’d laid out for Griff didn’t matter. Keeping him calm did. She’d let herself fall apart later.
He turned and she met his intense stare. “Thanks.”
She smiled in return. He lifted her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. His touch formed a tangible bond between them, stronger than anything that had passed between them before.
They drove the rest of the trip in worried but comfortable silence. Only when they reached the hospital did she feel Griff reluctantly pry his hand from her own.
* * *
Chelsie glanced down at her watch. “What did the doctor say again?”
“That her fever had spiked, but it’s down now. They’re just monitoring her.” Griff leaned his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and wished for privacy.
He wasn’t pleased with the fact that he’d stood by helplessly and let Chelsie handle what should have been his responsibility. But the thought of losing Alix as surely as he’d lost everyone else in his life had immobilized him. Now, with the immediate crisis over, the cold fear that ripped at his gut had begun to recede.
Allowing Chelsie into his life would just add another woman to the list of those who’d deserted him in the end. Erecting barriers didn’t come as easily as it had in the past. He supposed he had Chelsie to thank for that. “Why don’t you go get some sleep?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t leave you now.”
Later, then? The clock on the wall ticked off another minute, the sound echoing in the small waiting room. He opened his eyes and focused on the stark beige walls, but refused to allow himself the pleasure and agony of glancing in her direction.
“Eleven o’clock,” she murmured. She stood and paced the confines of the limited space, her actions making him increasingly aware of her presence and whereabouts. “Are you sure it’s just the flu?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And they’ll let her go home in a few hours if the fever stays down?”
“Yes.”
“What if she wakes up and gets scared?”
He groaned. “Would you just relax? Go get a cup of coffee or something.” He stood and stretched.
She shook her head.
“Go home, then. Or at least stop pacing like you were her mother. You’re making me nervous.”
“I’ll go home when I’m good and ready. And if you don’t want me acting like her mother, you shouldn’t have placed me in this damned position to begin with.” Her eyes flashed angry sparks, but her voice shook, as well.
Griff recognized the accompanying signs of hurt, too. Shame overwhelmed him, but once spoken, his words lay like a chasm between them.
“I warned you, but would you listen?” she asked.
“Chelsie.” He placed a hand on her arm. She shrugged off his touch.
“Of course not. You know what’s best. You know what everybody can handle.” She snorted in disgust.
“Calm down.” He tried soothing her with his voice. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long night and I’m as edgy as you are. And I’m used to dealing with things alone.”
“And you prefer it that way.”
“Yes. No. I can’t lose someone else.” Not Alix or Chelsie, but he wouldn’t admit as much aloud.
Her shoulders sagged as some of the anger seemed to seep out of her system. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“One of us should get some sleep. I’ll take the night shift and I’ll catch some shut-eye tomorrow when you take over.” A strand of hair had fallen across her cheek. Suddenly needing human contact, needing Chelsie, he reached to brush it away.
“When I proposed this partnership, the idea was for you to get more sleep, not less,” he said. “So go, okay?”
“Okay. Now’s not the best time to hash this out anyway. We’ll deal with things tomorrow.”
His eyes narrowed. “What things?”
She slung her purse over her shoulder. “Things,” she said in a low but determined voice. “At least we haven’t finalized anything,” she murmured. “I’ll check Alix on my way out.”
“Be my guest,” he said to her retreating back. The swinging doors shuffled closed behind her. “But don’t think you’re walking out on this arrangement just because I lack tact and finesse.” And the brains God gave to most men.
Maybe he had come down with the damned flu. Self-protection was one thing. Driving away the woman who had kept him sane was another. A damned stupid move. As soon as he got Alix home, he planned on rectifying his mistake.
* * *
Chelsie stomped around the office. If she’d unpacked, at least she’d have the satisfaction of tossing her things back into the boxes. Now, she took the only means available to release her frustration. She taped closed the one box she’d had time to open.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Leaving,” Chelsie said without turning to look at Griff. At times, he read her too easily. Now he’d see a woman with no intention of carrying out her threat. But her childish actions allowed her to vent anger she couldn’t decide where to direct and she needed the release.
“No, you’re not” He sneezed.
“Bless you. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Chelsie, I’m sorry. I was tired. Irritable. Worried about Alix.”
“Right. So you turned on me, the person you’d kissed hours earlier. Says a lot about your character.”
He had to suppress a grin. Her sarcasm gave him a foolish hope that she didn’t really want to leave. “My character leaves a lot to be desired. My taste in partners does not. Come on, give a guy a break.”