Page 79 of Guardian Daddy

Face it, Cate. You do more than just put up with him touching you. You enjoy it.

“You know you’ve been touching me without warning me,” she informed him.

Ethan’s eyes widened, and she thought he looked surprised before something else filled his face. “Shit. I have. I’m sorry, baby.”

“You don’t . . . uh, you don’t have to apologize. I’m rather . . . I mean . . . I don’t abhor your touch.”

Lord.

She hadn’t meant to say it like that.

“That’s good to know. I’m glad you don’t abhor it.”

Oh, dear. She was making a mess of this.

“I’m not very good at communicating. Perhaps it would be best if you kept driving. I have to get to my meeting.”

“Hey, look at me.”

No. She didn’t think that was a good idea.

“Cate. Look at me.” His voice was firmer this time.

She shook her head.

“Please. Just for a moment.”

Her eyes moved up to his, then quickly down to his nose. Sometimes, she struggled to look people in the eyes. Especially when she was feeling uncomfortable.

“I’m glad you like my touch. I don’t mind if you have trouble communicating as long as you try. I do need you to let me know when you don’t understand what I’m saying or what I mean and if I inadvertently hurt you in any way.”

She licked her lips and his gaze dropped to her mouth.

Oh dear.

That . . . that felt rather good. Warmth filled her body as he stared at her, and she wondered what it would feel like to have his lips against hers.

She wasn’t any good at kissing. She knew that. But she had a feeling it wouldn’t matter with Ethan. Because he’d be in charge. He’d guide her through what she needed to do.

“I want to thank you for telling me that the word brat is upsetting.”

He was . . . thanking her?

“Why would you thank me?”

“Because you communicated that you were upset. I’m good at reading people, but you are very good at closing down your emotions. So for you to open up and tell me, that means a lot. Okay?”

Cate stared at him for a long moment, trying to process everything he’d said. He’d pulled the car over to thank her for telling him that she didn’t like the word brat.

That was . . . so strange. And yet, she thought it was sweet too.

“I don’t have many friends,” she blurted out.

Well, any, really.

“No?” he asked.

Idiot.

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