Page 36 of Until I Find You

I laugh. “Don’t make me regret it.”

She smacks her lips, tasting the coffee. “You will.”

My insides tighten.

Her eyes flash in mine.

Who gets to see that bratty side of her? The one that feels free to tease and joke? The one that doesn’t put up a front all the time. Who gets to see that version of her? Other than me?

Because if I’m not the only one, I’m going to need to fix that as fast as possible.

“When do you let go, Camilla?”

Her eyebrows jump, and I realize what a fucking weird question that is.

“You know, like –”Save it, make this not weird.“Do you like to work out or do you crochet or…”Do you let guys who aren’t me fuck your brains out and if you do, can I have an opportunity to be the best at it? Would you let me take good care of your needs?

Testosterone is running my life these days. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Ever. And I’ve fucked and had my fun. It’s never been such a potent feeling.

Never been such aneed.

“I don’t,” Camilla says in such a simple way it breaks my heart.

And just like that, I’m not thinking aboutjustfucking her. I’m thinking about taking care of her. Letting her unwind into my arms when the eyes of the world are not around her. Waiting on her hand and foot, making sure her needs are attended to so that she can wake up every day ready to tackle the world she’s bent on dominating.

I am filled with a sense of purpose at the idea of taking care of her.

Daddy.

The word flashes into my head. Not in the way I imagine a child saying it to me someday when I have my own family.

Daddy.

I hear it in Camilla’s voice. A yearning voice. A longing voice. Aneedingvoice.

We need each other. I’m sure of it.

But I…I don’t do things like that. Don’t cross drawn lines like that. Not like my brother, not like my father, not like Seth.

“Is it just me or is the coffee kind of watery?” Camilla’s mouth contorts.

A laugh bursts from me. “You’re learning.”

Her eyes widen from over the rim of her cup as she drinks. So playful and sweet.

Camilla might be a grown woman, but she deserves to be taken care of and protected the same way I hope she was when she was little.

And I want to be the one that makes her see she deserves that.

I want to take care of her.

I want to be herDaddy.

Something slots into place, a puzzle piece, a key into a lock.

I place my hand on her portfolio and slide it closer to me so I can look it over. I’ll decipher her handwriting, I’ll look through the notes, I’ll wake the fuck up and be the man I’m supposed to be. For myself. For my business. For her.

I take the pen tucked into its holder beside the notepad and write one word across the top. Keiki.

---