Chelsie’s heart slammed in rapid rhythm against her rib cage. She’d wondered if Griff could possibly cement their future by convincing her he believed she loved him separate and apart from her feelings for her sister’s child. She’d wondered if he’d change his mind about not wanting children of his own. And now she knew.
* * *
“I’m telling you, women aren’t worth the effort,” Ryan muttered. He grabbed a can of cola from the refrigerator and sank into the nearest kitchen chair.
“Big change in tune. Guess your latest girlfriend dumped you,” Griff said with a laugh.
Ryan shrugged. “She couldn’t stand the hours.” He took a swig of his drink and kicked his feet out in front of him.
Following his friend’s cue, Griff loosened the knot on his constricting tie. “Ever think of settling down?” Griff asked.
Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Find me what you’ve got and maybe I’ll consider it.”
“Tell me what I’ve got and I’ll try and help you out” Since her return from Florida, Griff had had one hell of a time figuring out where he stood with Chelsie.
“Pathetic. Both of us,” Ryan said and finished the soda in one large gulp.
Griff agreed. He also wondered if it was about to get worse. Knowing she needed some normalcy, Griff had bided his time before pulling out the last weapon in his arsenal. It had taken him a week of sleepless nights to figure out the one thing that would cement their lives together at last—at least he hoped so.
If Chelsie wasn’t swayed after today, there would be nothing left to say. Hell, he’d sever the partnership himself. He couldn’t see her professionally and not have her in his life when the workday ended.
Footsteps sounded on the back stairs leading from the house to the office. He turned to Ryan. “Not that I don’t appreciate the ride back from the office, but don’t you have some place to be?” He’d left Mrs. Baxter his car so she could do the long-overdue food shopping.
Footsteps were replaced by a loud knocking on the adjoining door. Ryan turned towards the noise. “Don’t you think you could give her a key?” he asked. “Might make her feel more welcome.”
Griff rolled his eyes. “Tell you what,” he said as he walked towards the door. “You make yourself scarce, I’ll give Chelsie that key. Then she can lock you out.”
Ryan rose and tossed the soda can into the recycling bin beneath the cabinet under the sink. “There’s loyalty for you. I’m going, but one thing first.”
Griff reached for the handle on the door. “What’s that?” He opened the door to see Chelsie on the other side.
“Invite me to the wedding,” Ryan said as he paused in front of her.
“What wedding is that?” she asked.
Ryan shrugged. “Ask your partner. Good seeing you again, Chels.”
“You too, Ryan,” she said to his retreating back.
The door closed behind him and Griff got his first good look at Chelsie. Cheeks flushed and eyes bright she stood before him, waving a piece of paper in her hand. The piece of paper.
Griff held his breath.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Come.” He reached out and took her hand, leading her into the family room. With both hands on her shoulders, he eased her onto the soft cushions. “What is it you said to me when I proposed you help out with Alix?” he asked her.
She looked at him, puzzled.
He wondered if his heart had ever beat so hard or so fast. He wondered if he’d ever had as much at stake. “Let me remind you. You asked what would happen when I decided Alix was doing well enough to throw you out of her life again.”
She glanced down at the custody papers in her hands. “I still don’t understand what you meant... why you...”
“I gave you unconditional joint custody. Any schedule you want, any way you want.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll take her away from you somehow? You aren’t worried that maybe my parents will use this against you to sue for custody again?”
“Your parents. Well, they’re the unknown in all this. They’re a risk,” he admitted. One he’d struggled with long and hard all week.
But he’d accused Chelsie of wanting his ready-made family and then walked away instead of accepting her word, instead of believing she loved him separate and apart from Alix. He’d hurt her so deeply he still saw it in her expression every time they were together.
Her shadowed eyes haunted his dreams. She was the last person he’d ever hurt intentionally. He saw only one way to make amends and hopefully assure their future. The only means he had to convince her of his trust was to offer the one thing he’d accused her of wanting more than him. His niece.
He couldn’t think of another way to bring them together, except to risk everything. He knelt down and stared into her eyes. “Listen to me. I love you. I want to marry you and be a real family. But if you can’t see beyond my mistakes, I understand. I’ll accept any type of shared custody arrangement you want. I’ll...
She cut him off by throwing her arms around his neck and toppling them both to the floor. “I take it this arrangement works for you?” he asked, out of breath but still needing to hear the words.
“I’m overwhelmed,” she said. “You’d do that for me?”
“Love you? Yes. Marry you? Yes.”
“Share custody of Alix even if I said no to your proposal,” Chelsie said softy.
“In a heartbeat.” Although right now he was fairly certain his own heart had stopped.
She blinked against moist eyes. “Can you move?”
“Your point?” he asked. Because if she didn’t answer him soon, he might not make it another minute.
“You’re not going anywhere, Griff, and neither am I.” Chelsie looked down at the man she loved, the man who had risked his emotional nightmare to give her what he believed she needed. What he failed to realize was the depth of that love. “You didn’t need to do this. I believed you when you said you trusted me. It’s just that I can’t give you all you deserve. The family you want, a child of your own...”
He grasped her cheeks in both hands, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Your words, Chelsie. Not mine. I said more children. Our children.”
She swallowed hard and tried again. “Are you sure?”
“Sure that I love you? Yes. Sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with you? Yes to that, too.”
“Sure that you can accept not having children of your own?” She asked because she had to be sure. More importantly, he had to be sure.
His eyes never left Chelsie’s face. “I already have all that I want. And you’re right. I do want more kids.” His fingertips brushed at the tear on her cheek. “So why wouldn’t I love any child you and I decided to adopt?”
“Adopt?”
“We both love Alix as if she were our own. As long as any other children are ours to raise and love together, why would I want more?”
Her throat hurt from holding back tears. “Are you sure?”
“That again?” he asked with a grin. He pulled her down onto the floor with him until his arms encircled her, squeezing her so tight she couldn’t help but be certain. “I’m sure,” he whispered. “Are you?”
Beyond words, Chelsie merely nodded. She had all she ever wanted and more than she’d ever dreamed.
“Now that we’ve got that settled, we can plan ahead.”
She lay her head on his shoulder and felt his strength. He’d be there for her always. She laughed. “Okay, let’s plan,” she agreed.
“For starters, I guess it’s a good thing you sublet your apartment after all.”
She feigned a loud gasp and propped herself up to look at the face she adored. “But what about that town house I rented?”
Panic flared in his eyes, causing her to shake her head in laughter and denial. “Gotcha,” Chelsie said with a grin, grateful for the love and the laughter she had found.
“That you do,” he whispered.
She wrapped he
r arms around him, thankful she’d been given so much.
“I don’t plan on ever letting you go.”
She smiled. “Who asked you to?”
“No more doubts? Because from now on we share everything, good and bad.”
Chelsie smiled. “I’ll share my life with you, Griff. All you had to do was ask.”
* * * * * * * * *
The Right Choice
ONE
Carly Wexler stood back and admired the window display. Rays of sunlight streamed through the plate glass, illuminating an assortment of gold and diamond wedding bands. The enduring symbols of love and commitment caused her stomach to bunch into a tight knot. She closed her eyes, firmly convinced that a fresh glance at the sparkling rings would calm her nerves. After all, nothing could go wrong when a wedding had been planned as meticulously as hers.
She opened her eyes for another look. To her left, complementary wedding bands shimmered against a black velvet backdrop. His and hers. Carly and Peter. They were, as her fiancé reminded her, well-suited, sharing mutual friends and interests. A matched set, she thought, her gaze drifting over the glittering selections.
Every piece in the window had a partner... an apt description of her relationship with her fiancé. They didn’t share a grand passion, but that was what made theirs a perfect union. In an ideal world, love and passion could coexist, making a couple a perfect fit, instead of merely offering them a perfect coexistence. But Carly no longer believed in fairy tales. Thanks to her father’s destructive actions, she had seen the damage running on pure emotion could cause. Better to accept mutual respect and caring than to risk pain and disillusionment. She brushed at her newly cut bangs, paying little attention when they fell forward again.
A plain platinum and 18-karat gold set caught her eye. Though the criss-crossed bands were flanked on either side by more jeweled rings, Carly couldn’t take her eyes off the simpler pair. “Perfect,” she murmured. Too bad her fiancé would prefer a ring with more precious stones, one designed to impress.
“Like those.” She tapped her finger against the window.
She understood Peter’s need to make a statement, just as he understood her need for the perfect wedding with all the trimmings. Give and take, she reminded herself. Her finger traced a pattern on the cool glass.
“What woman wouldn’t like all those glittering diamonds?” From directly behind her, a sexy yet unfamiliar voice vibrated in her ear.
The question intrigued her. “One with substance perhaps?” She answered without turning. Both her heart and her gaze had refocused on her ring of choice.
“And wit,” the man added with obvious admiration.
She clasped her hands behind her back. “Good taste,” she responded, enjoying the innocent game.
The answering chuckle, deep and resonant, captured her interest, diverting her from choosing the circular band that would forever bind her to her future husband.
“It takes brains to see beyond the dazzle of diamonds,” the stranger said, approval marking his masculine drawl.
“I suppose.” Curiosity aroused, she turned toward the voice, her long skirt floating around her bare legs as she moved.
The sensual voice tantalized but hadn’t deceived. A ruggedly handsome man smiled at her. Her gaze locked with his. Hazel eyes flecked with gold shimmered beneath the afternoon sun and laugh lines bracketed a sensuous mouth.
Those mesmerizing eyes studied her intently. “Real beauty speaks for itself.”
Her cheeks heated at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“Just stating the obvious.”
Embarrassed, Carly acknowledged his words with a nod. She felt a connection with this stranger, one that defied logic. With long sandy hair streaked by the sun and the sexy way he rocked on the heels of worn hiking boots, he oozed wildness and danger, raw masculinity and cocky confidence. She brushed at her bangs with trembling hands. She preferred tame and safe. This man was anything but.
“So, what attracts you?” he asked. His gaze lingered on her an instant too long before darting to the jewel-filled window.
You do. The unbidden thought rocketed through her brain. “Those,” she said in a hoarse croak. She pointed to the simple bands with a none too steady hand.
“Nice,” he murmured in agreement. “So have we discovered what kind of woman prefers plain gold to diamonds?” His rich laugh hung in the air.
The sound warmed her, even as an unexpected chill dashed over her skin. She glanced up at the blue sky. A single puff of cloud covered the sun. Carly knew with complete certainty that this man, and not a passing feat of nature, caused her tremors and distinct sense of unease.
“Someone with more sense than to stand on a street corner in Manhattan and talk to a perfect stranger,” she murmured. “Excuse me.” She pivoted on her heel, intending to head inside the store, where safety in numbers awaited her.
“Carly, wait.”
She froze in midflight, turning back toward that compelling voice. “Who are you?” she asked warily.
“Mike Novack, Peter’s brother.” He held a bronzed hand toward her.
She silently cursed her fiancé’s lack of sentiment. The only picture she’d seen of Mike had been as a young boy. Certainly she’d have recalled seeing a current photo of the good-looking man standing before her.
“Brother.” Even as she reached out her hand, dismay and self-loathing rippled through her. Flirting with a stranger while shopping for wedding bands had been bad enough, but flirting with Peter’s errant brother showed a decided lack of judgment.
The type of judgment she’d expect from her father, not from herself.
“Last time I checked,” Mike said.
His strong hand grasped hers and she lost any sense of equilibrium she might have felt. His calloused fingers wrapped around her skin, enclosing her hand in warmth.
Heat traveled from her fingers, up her arm and into her breasts before settling in the pit of her stomach. Through sheer force of will, she tried to ignore the new and unnerving sensations.
She wrenched her hand free from Mike’s grasp and focused all her attention on the plate-glass window. Without the sun’s rays, the rings had lost much of their sparkle and allure. She wrapped her arms across her chest in a futile attempt to warm herself inside and out.
“Carly?”
She grit her teeth against the sound of concern in his deep voice. “Obviously you’ve seen my picture.”
Mike smiled. “The one on Peter’s desk.”
“I wish I could say the same of you.”
“I’m the photographer in the family, not Pete.”
“So I’ve heard. Are you also the family flirt?”
His eyes narrowed in confusion. “I know I’ve been out of the country for a while, but when did casual conversation become slang for come-on?”
She blew her bangs out of her eyes with a hard puff of air. “Okay, I overreacted.” To a man who made her heart race and her palms sweat. As far as she was concerned, she’d definitely underreacted.
She really wanted to run and hide from Mike and from herself. “Truce?” she asked, holding out her hand. To prove she could handle physical contact, not because she craved the sensations his warm touch aroused.
“Truce.” Mike grasped and released her hand in a quick movement. Not because he couldn’t handle touching her soft skin, but because his mere presence had obviously left her shaken. He had no idea why.
“Where is Peter?” Carly asked.
“Work. He was on his way out the door when a last minute crisis hit. He sent me along with his apologies.”
“Lawyers.” The nonchalant shrug of her shoulders was at distinct odds with the disappointed look in her eyes. “At least this time he remembered to send someone to tell me.” She smiled. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he said. The woman standing before him was a definite surprise.
When Mike had asked about Carly, Peter had answered with a dis
tracted, “We’re two of a kind, a match made in professional heaven.” To Mike the answer had been the equivalent of “She’s got a good personality.” Never a rave review for a woman. Mike had then sought answers in the framed picture on Peter’s desk. The black-and-white photo hadn’t done justice to this woman.
Perhaps she wasn’t a knockout, but she definitely possessed a certain something that made a man look twice. An elusive quality he’d like to capture on film. Light brown hair with golden highlights framed her face and caressed her shoulders in soft waves. Wispy bangs fell just below her eyebrows—when she wasn’t swiping at them with one hand. Mike suppressed the urge to brush them aside, just to see if her hair felt as soft as it looked. Her lips were a bit too full but glistened enticingly beneath a sheen of pink gloss.
His brother was one lucky SOB. Not that Mike would ever trade his freedom for the confines of marriage, but he intended to make sure Peter appreciated his good fortune.
“Mike?”
A tap on his shoulder took him by surprise and he flinched.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Fine.” He rolled his shoulder in a circle, stretching the tight muscles. He wondered if the recent injury would ever heal, or if the ache along with the scars were meant as a permanent reminder of what he’d left behind and all he still had to go back to.
“I asked how much time we’ve got” She lifted one eyebrow in question.
“About...” He glanced at his watch. “Another five, ten minutes, depending on whether or not Pete gets sidetracked. If he’s not here by a quarter after, he said to consider him a no-show and he’ll call to reschedule.” He grinned. “His words, not mine.”
“Not a problem. It’s nothing unusual anyway.”
Awfully accepting for a woman waiting to pick wedding bands with her beloved fiancé, Mike thought. “I see Pete still treats his personal life like a business meeting.”
“Don’t judge him.” Her eyes narrowed, flashing angry sparks.
Her defense of her fiancé was admirable if undeserved, Mike thought.
“Lawyers’ hours are unpredictable. I understand.”
Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set Page 20