Page 4 of One Week With My Dad's Best Friend

“I drink all the time,” she answers. “My parents have never stopped me.”

I sigh. “Do you like red?”

“Love it.”

I grab another glass, pour her a glass of wine, and hand it to her. Her eyes are on mine as she accepts the glass, our fingers brushing. The contact causes a fluttering of goosebumps to pop up over my arm.

She lifts the glass to her mouth, her lips purse over the rim as she takes a sip.

Oh fuck!

“Perfect.”

“I’ll get us something to eat.”

“I’m fine.”

“You need something to eat if you’re drinking.”

I keep myself busy in the kitchen, pulling ingredients from the fridge. The knife moves in steady chops against the cutting board while pasta water boils.

Anything to keep my hands occupied, my mind focused.

Anything to stop me from staring at her. At her lips. But every few moments, our eyes meet across the counter, and when her lips touch the glass, I forget what I’m doing.

She sets down her glass. “Do you need any help?”

“I’ve got it.” But she’s already rounded the counter, reaching past me for herbs on the windowsill. Her arm grazes mine, and we both freeze. The kitchen feels too small, too warm.

Her breath catches, and I can’t look away from her face.

“I’m making this awkward, aren’t I?” she says. “Look, I apologize for trying to kiss you at the wedding. I just thought…you know…with the Christmas theme and everything, that kissing you under the mistletoe was normal.”

“It was,” I grunt.

She shakes her head. “Jade told me how inappropriate it was and—”

“Scarlett. It’s fine.” I want to tell her how much I wanted to kiss her properly. To open my mouth, plunge against hers and kiss her like she was mine. But with everyone’s eyes on us, I could only kiss her on her cheek.

“I promise I won’t make it awkward while I’m here. I can sleep at my friend’s home.”

My jaw clenches. “What do you mean, sleep at a friend’s home?”

“Mom said I should try not to be a burden.” Scarlett’s eyes drop to the floor. “That I should give you space and maybe stay with Hetty sometimes, so you don’t have to deal with—”

“Deal with what?” The knife clatters against the cutting board. “You’re not some stray cat they’re pawning off.”

“I know, but—”

“But nothing.” Blood pounds in my ears. The thought of her mother making her feel unwanted, making her think she needs to tiptoe around my home... “This is ridiculous.”

“Mom just wants me to be proper. She said young ladies shouldn’t impose and—”

I can’t listen to it any more. My hands find her arms, gripping just firm enough to stop her nervous fidgeting. The contact shoots fire through my veins, and she gasps, those blue eyes wide as they meet mine.

Kiss her.The thought pounds through my head. She’s so close, and with those lips parted, she looks like she is waiting.

One move and I’ll show her exactly how welcome she is here.

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