Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set - Page 50

When he reached the kitchen, he immediately sensed a difference. An old Eagles song drifted towards him, accompanied by soft but slightly off-key humming. Griff paused in the doorway, attempting to understand the comforting feeling that settled around him.

The decor hadn’t changed. In fact, the scene that awaited him was similar to the one that greeted him every morning. Alix sat in the high chair, happily shoveling handfuls of food into her mouth while babbling at the same time. Two places were set at the table, and the delicious aroma of pancakes surrounded him, making his mouth water for a hot stack with warm maple syrup and steaming coffee. But instead of Mrs. Baxter helping his niece with her meal and puttering around the kitchen, there was Chelsie.

Between sips of coffee, she wrestled with Alix as the child tried to stuff in more food than her mouth would hold. Chelsie laughed at the little girl, gently chiding her for misbehaving. Yet Chelsie never lost her temper and she never seemed annoyed at being placed in the role of caregiver for her sister’s child. If anything, she seemed born to be Alix’s surrogate mother.

The emotions roiling inside Griff were too complex to untangle, so he didn’t try. Instead, he studied her in silence.

She’d pulled her hair loosely atop her head and stray tendrils fell to frame her face. He had to stifle the urge to sweep her off her feet and back into the bedroom so they could pick up where they’d left off last night.

“Morning,” he said, finally.

Chelsie jumped in her seat. “Morning.” She turned towards him.

Despite last night’s intimacy, or perhaps because of it, a pink flush covered her cheeks. He found her shyness around him a refreshing change from the overly confident women in his past.

“You should have wakened me.”

She shook her head. “When you didn’t bolt out of bed the first time Alix called you, I figured you needed the sleep.”

“Hi, squirt.” He sat in the chair nearest his niece.

She held out a sticky hand and offered him a piece of her pancake.

“I’ll pass,” he said with a grin.

Chelsie stood and walked over to the stove, returning with a covered plate. “I saved these for you.” She poured him a cup of coffee and pushed the bottle of maple syrup towards him.

His mouth watered again. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Though they had agreed to talk, he decided to delay anything personal until later and tackled the subject of work instead. “I was wondering how Amanda took things when you told her you’d filed the restraining order against her ex.” He had been too busy with his own caseload and filling in for Mrs. Baxter during the day to discuss every client with Chelsie.

She glanced up from her plate. “I didn’t.”

“How could you let a week go by without taking action?”

“Don’t criticize before you know all the facts. Amanda wanted time to get settled before she filed any papers. Since her husband doesn’t know where she is, she didn’t think the delay would hurt.”

“Didn’t you tell her what a foolish, not to mention dangerous, attitude that is?” he asked.

Her skin turned ashen at the reminder and she placed her fork down with unsteady hands. “Of course. But you can’t make someone move before they’re ready. Some women never are,” she murmured.

“It’s not that I don’t sympathize. You know I do. But how can she not want to go after the guy? He physically hurt her, for God’s sake.”

“Being a victim entails a lot more than just physical abuse. Sometimes the emotional ramifications are worse,” she said in a shaky voice. “Some women just want to put the whole experience behind them as quickly as possible.”

He sighed, placing a hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean to sound judgmental, and I didn’t mean to bring back old memories.”

“I’ve lived with them for a long time, Griff. Don’t go taking on any guilt.” She stood and cleared Alix’s high chair, then turned her attention to cleaning off the child.

Because she seemed to need the distraction, he didn’t offer to do it for her. Instead, he collected the dishes from the table and placed them in the sink.

Chelsie unstrapped the little girl from the harness that held her in the chair and deposited her on the white ceramic tile floor. “Go play,” she whispered in her ear.

Alix didn’t need any more encouragement. She took off in the direction of her toys.

Once they were alone, he walked over and wrapped his arms around Chelsie’s slender waist. He buried his face in the back of her neck, inhaling her feminine scent and recalling details of the time she’d spent in his arms.

Tags: Carly Phillips Romance
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