She thought she heard herself whimper under the assault. If he ground himself against her again, she might do just that. He pried her shirt loose from her jeans and ran his hands along her midriff. His thumbs brushed her nipples, causing them to harden into tight peaks.
And then she heard it again. The small whi
mper that could have easily come from her, but hadn’t “Griff,” she murmured against his lips.
He groaned in protest. “Don’t stop now.” But he raised his head to gaze at her.
“Alix, I think,” she said, glancing in the direction of the sound.
The slight whimper turned into an angry cry.
“Oh, hell.” Griff ran his fingers through his hair, looking about as pleased with the interruption as she felt.
“Mrs. Baxter...”
“Has taken a week off to be with her son. I told her I could handle it.”
When her mind began to function, she might be grateful for the intrusion. Right now, all she noticed was a keen sense of frustration, a sensation as alien to her as desire.
“I’ll go,” she offered.
“No,” he said brusquely, taking two steps back. “You start working up here. I’ve got it.”
She nodded. Her tongue swiped over her lips. She still tasted Griff. Hugging herself, she watched as he bounded down the stairs two at a time. His reluctance to end the kiss had resulted in his eagerness to get away.
She turned to unpack, ignoring her still throbbing body. She reached for another book. Griff shouted so loud she would have heard him yell without the monitor. She vaulted down the stairs and dashed towards Alix’s bedroom.
“What is it?” Only grabbing onto the molding on the door frame slowed her run.
His eyes met hers. “She’s burning up. Should we give her aspirin?”
“No!”
Griff looked startled at her sharp tone.
“Never give a child aspirin,” she said in a calmer voice. Chelsie leaned over the crib where the little girl lay shaking and shivering, and pressed her hand against the child’s forehead. Her skin felt hot as an iron. Glancing over her shoulder, Chelsie saw Griff pacing behind her. “Call her doctor and ask him whether we should meet him at his office or the hospital.”
He bolted out of the room. Chelsie quickly stripped off the child’s clothes and lifted Alix into her arms. “It’ll be okay, sweety,” Chelsie crooned in her ear during the short walk down the hall to the bathroom. “I’m here, and Uncle Griff’s here. We’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
Alix whimpered and tried to thrash around, but Chelsie held her fast.
While waiting for Griff to return, she held Alix over one shoulder and reached for the still damp bath towel with the other. After laying the towel in the sink, she opened the medicine cabinet and hoped she’d find what she was looking for without having to search. Once she located the rubbing alcohol, she propped Alix up on the counter while saturating the towel in a combination of alcohol and cold water. She wrung out the rag and sat on the toilet, wiping the little girl down with the cool compress.
She would have liked to repeat the process but knew she had little time. Instead, she returned to Alix’s room and had her dressed by the time Griff returned.
“What did the doctor say?”
“He’ll meet us at the hospital.”
“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.