Borrowed Baby (7 page)

"About an hour and a half."

"I told you to take it easy on him," Liz cooed to Casie. The baby laughed.

"Well, you two just go ahead and share a laugh over it," Griff muttered.

He really did look rather adorable with just a hint of stubble on his face and that tired, droopy look around his eyes. Even his mustache looked tired. "Want some coffee before we get started?''

He considered her offer longer than she thought it warranted. It wasn't that hard a decision.

"That depends."

"On what?" Liz pulled back her T-shirt from Casie's grasp.

"On whether conversation goes with it."

Griff turned in Liz's direction only to see the firm outline of her breasts beneath the bright pink cotton T-shirt as Casie yanked on it, pulling it taut. Despite the fact that he was bone tired, desire licked at him, making him want her.

Damn, why didn't the woman wear a bra? For that matter, didn't she own a skirt? À long skirt that covered up her legs? The shorts she had on left little to his imagination and yet fired it up a good deal. It was winter. Didn't she know she wasn't supposed to wear shorts anymore? Never mind that the days were unseasonably warm lately.

He looked positively fierce. Did her talking bother him that much? Why? she wondered. "What's your preference?"

Lady, right now you Wouldn't want to know what my preference is. "Guess."

From the look on his face, Liz had no trouble arriving at a conclusion. She pointed toward the kitchen. "Coffee's in there. Help yourself."

The coffee didn't help. Nothing, he thought, would help, short of a good nap. That, and maybe a long, cold shower. One had nothing to do with the other. Two days with Casie in his life and already it was turned upside down.

He rinsed his cup in the sink. Liz was playing with Casie at the table. He took her arm and helped her up from her chair. His manner wasn't altogether gentle.

"C'mon, let's go and get this thing over with," he growled.

The man needed a personality transplant. She hurried to keep up with his long stride and barely had time to close the front door behind her. "We're going shopping, Foster, not to the dentist." She placed Casie in the car seat that Griff had installed in the back seat and strapped her in.

"Same thing," he muttered, then turned in time to be confronted with a very tempting view of her posterior as she bent over to accomplish her task.

Yup, he figured, the shorts were much too short. And her legs were much too long. Why couldn't she have stubby piano legs instead of long slim ones that made him wonder what it would be like to slide his hands along the smooth, tanned skin?

He jammed his hands into his pockets as he circled the car to the driver's side.

She bounced into the passenger side. "Are you always this pleasant first thing in the morning?"

"I didn't have a morning," he told her as he got in. "Just one endless night." He started up the car, then realized that he hadn't the faintest idea where they were going. "Where to?"

Liz reached around and buckled her seat belt. "I thought perhaps we'd hit the South Coast Plaza Mall for her clothes and crib, unless you—"

"Whoa, hold on, lady." He held up one authoritative hand. "What crib?"

"The crib she's going to be sleeping in," Liz answered simply. What was his problem? "She has to sleep somewhere, Foster."

"She is sleeping somewhere. She's sleeping on Sally's bed."

"Where she could easily roll off and hurt herself," she pointed out patiently.

"I've barricaded the perimeter just the way you did." He waited. Her expression didn't change. "I'm not going to buy her a crib. This isn't going to be a permanent arrangement."

Liz pushed the sleeves of her cardigan up to her elbows. "So then you've heard from your sister?"

He realized that he was pressing down too hard on the gas pedal and eased up. Why did he let her get to him this way? "Why do you have the habit of asking questions I don't want to answer?"

"I'd say that would cover just about everything except whether or not it was raining—and I'm not overly certain about that."

Maybe she was right. Maybe he was being too hard  on her. "The weather's an open subject."

His solemn expression hadn't changed, but his tone softened. "Ah, progress." She turned in her seat to look at him. "Look, Griff, I'm only trying to help you."

Are you? he wondered. Then why are you preying on my mind the way you are? People who help don't mess up other people's minds. He was just overly tired, he told himself. And she was an attractive woman. But he had seen attractive women before. None, of course, whose mouths could be categorized as deadly weapons under two very separate, distinct headings.

"Yeah." He relented. "I know."

"Then act like it, for heaven's sake. Believe it or not, there could be other things I could be doing than going shopping for baby things."

He knew she was right and that he should be grateful for the help. But expressing gratitude came hard to him. "Sorry."

She grinned. "Is that a first for you?"

"Is what a first for me?"

"Apologizing."

He remembered the way his father had made him apologize for everything, for the very fact that he even existed. "No." His voice rang hollow.

This time she didn't comment on his response. Instinct told her not to. There was something dark and hurting there that he didn't want touched. It made her want to soothe it, to help. She had no idea why she wanted to get close to him, but she did. It wasn't physical attraction alone, although Lord knows, she'd never before kissed a man who made bombs burst in midair for her. But it went beyond that, way beyond the physical. Maybe she was being foolish, but she felt he needed her. And she was a sucker for that.

"We could get a portacrib," Liz volunteered abruptly as they turned off the freeway.

Her statement, out of the blue, threw him. He told himself he should be getting used to that. She seemed to carry on several different conversations at the same time. "What's that?" He pulled his car into the underground parking structure.

"It's a kind of traveling playpen with a thin mattress so that she can sleep in it as well as play in it." She went on talking as he got out and circled the front of the car. "I wouldn't recommend one to be used for a permanent sleeping arrangement, but it'll do in a pinch."

He opened the door for her, but made no move to unstrap Casie. "Is it comfortable?"

Liz got out and did the honors for Casie. Rather than wait to see if he'd pick her up, she took the baby into her arms herself. She looked at Griff with wide- eyed innocence.

"Why should sleeping on a board with a paper-thin mattress not be comfortable?"

Without thinking, Griff took Liz's arm to guide her out as cars came whizzing into the parking structure. "I'll buy a crib. No reason she shouldn't be comfortable." And maybe Sally would stay once she came back, he added silently. Then she'd need a crib for the baby.

Liz smiled to herself. She knew she hadn't been wrong about him.

Griff found that he could go through an incredibly large amount of money in an incredibly short amount of time with Liz at his side. Casie had next to nothing when they entered the mall, except for what was in his sister's purse. That could no longer be said, he thought as he signed yet another charge slip, this time for a white canopied crib and matching dresser.

"You sure the mall isn't giving you a kickback for all this?" Griff pocketed his charge card. "This card has seen more action in the last two hours than in the four years that I've had it."

"It's easy once you get the hang of it." Liz laughed. "And I'm not the one who decided to buy a play outfit for your niece in every color."

"They were on sale."

"Right."

She was pleased with the way things had gone this morning. Griff was proving her right despite himself. Though he grumbled and muttered each time he paid for something, the love Griff was trying to deny that he had for his niece kept surfacing in different ways.

He watched Liz shift beneath the burden of the sleeping child in her arms as she tried to keep up with him. "She too heavy for you?"

"She seems to have gained a few pounds in the last couple of hours." Her arms were beginning to feel numb, but she wasn't about to ask Griff for help. That had to come from him.

With a resigned sigh, he took the sleeping baby from her. With more ease than before, he laid the small head against his shoulder. Liz looked surprised at his action, but for once, mercifully, said nothing about it.

"What's next?" he asked.

"A carriage might come in handy. A small, temporary one," she couldn't resist adding.

"If your day-care center ever folds, you can always get a job as a stand-up comedienne." He gestured with his free hand. "Lead on."

They took the escalator down to the ground floor of the mall. In the center was a large, shiny carousel. A long line of impatient children and slightly wilted parents circled halfway around it as they waited for their turn on the gaily colored horses.

Griff glanced at Liz as they stepped off the escalator. "No way. I am not waiting in line for thirty minutes so that she can ride around for two."

Liz grinned. "I wasn't going to ask. She's a little young, anyway."

"Just so you know," he muttered.

Just as they passed the carousel to enter a store that specialized in children's furnishings, Griff heard his name being called.

"Griff? Griff Foster?"

C.W. and Ernie approached him, looking wary, as if they were expecting to be proven wrong at the very last minute.

"Hey, man, it is you," C.W. cried. He stood on one side of Griff as Ernie flanked Liz.

Ernie eyed Liz and it was plain to Griff that there was nothing short of appreciative hunger in the older man's eyes. Griff found himself edging closer to Liz and putting his body between the two of them.

"Yeah, it's me." He seemed loath to say anything else.

Liz took the bull by the horns. She extended her hand to C.W. since he was the closer of the two. "Hi, I'm Liz MacDougall."

C.W. took her hand in his with no hesitation. "I'm C. W. Linquist."

"Ernie Brewster." Ernie lost no time in edging C.W. out of the way and taking Liz's hand himself. "I work very closely with Griff." He looked over toward Griff, who was scowling. "Well, maybe not that closely." He gave Liz a broad smile.

"Hey, Griff, I like your lady." C.W. gave him a nudge with his elbow.

Griff didn't need C.W.'s approval or any of the talk in the locker room he knew he was in for. "She's not my lady."

Of course she wasn't, but the way he denied it so vehemently stung. The intensity of her reaction to his words surprised her. She forced a smile. "I'm just a friend," Liz clarified.

"Didn't know you had any of those, Griff. No offense," Ernie added hurriedly. Ernie's expression did not go unnoticed by Griff. The man's eyes skimmed over Liz's legs again as if he were drinking them in for some future fantasy.

"Now you know." Griff took Liz by the arm and guided her away without bothering to say goodbye.

"See you in the precinct on Monday," C.W. said after Griff's retreating back. There was a chuckle evident in his voice.

"Nice meeting you both," Liz called to them over her shoulder.

"Do you have to wear shorts that—that short?" Griff grumbled harshly into her ear. ''Don't you know it's winter? You're supposed to wear pants."

His breath felt warm against her ear and it tingled inside her. But she wasn't going to be intimidated by his voice. She had a feeling he wouldn't respect anyone who wouldn't go toe-to-toe with him. And anything less wasn't her style.

"Winter in Southern California doesn't count when the thermometer hits seventy-five. Besides, you didn't complain about my shorts before. Are you jealous?" she asked, recalling the way Ernie had ogled her.

"Why the hell should I be jealous of them? I'm just not interested in starting any riots. I'm a policeman, remember?"

She rose on her toes and kissed his cheek just before they entered the baby store. "You're lying, Griff Foster. I can see right through you."

"For your sake," he told her as he followed her into the store, "I hope that isn't true."

His justifiable homicide list was expanding by leaps and bounds.

Chapter Six

Liz rushed into her house, dropped her purse on the sofa and glanced at the clock on the mantel. Seven o'clock. Only thirty minutes to get ready.

It was her own fault. She knew she should have left Griff's house long before she did but with each attempt to leave, a new excuse seemed to crop up to make her stay for just a few more minutes. A few minutes had networked themselves into three hours. Somehow, she just couldn't manage to tear herself away from Casie. Or from Griff. How could she have left someone who was so hopelessly inept when it came to dealing with the baby's needs? To do so would have been displaying behavior bordering on cruelty. She felt compelled to give him at least some basic pointers'.

Besides, for reasons she hadn't totally sorted out yet, she really liked being with him.

When she had made a comment that afternoon about how adorably hopeless he was, he had indignantly informed her that he had changed Casie during the previous night. It had taken a lot for Liz not to laugh out loud as she had tried to envision Griff tackling a diaper. She had far more success envisioning him tackling an escaping felon. He was undoubtedly a lot better at that.

The image of him struggling to diaper Casie's wiggling bottom brought a smile to her lips even as she rifled through the dresses in her closet, searching for one to wear to the concert. Her old standby would do fine, she decided offhandedly, her mind still on Griff. There was something very endearing about seeing such a big, strapping man looking so lost.