Perfect Partners by Carly Phillips

shelter,” she lied.
    During her brief pregnancy, she had read all she could about infant and childcare, 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,” she assured him. 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. But erecting barriers against her didn’t come as easily as it had in the past.
    “Why don’t you go get some sleep?” he asked.
    “I wouldn’t leave you now.”
    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.
    “Chelsie.” He placed a hand on her arm. She shrugged off his touch.
    “I warned you, but would you listen?” she asked. “Of course not.” She answered her own question. “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