Page 37 of No Greater Love
"How long is a while?"
He looked away, color creeping up his neck. "Since before Paige was born."
I blinked. "Since... what now?"
"Eleven years," he said quietly. "Give or take."
I stared at him, trying to process this information. "Eleven years!? Nathan, that's not 'a while,' that's a geological epoch."
"I know how it sounds?—"
"Wait." I held up a hand, my mind reeling. "You're telling me you haven't been with anyone since Paige's mother left?"
He nodded, looking uncomfortable.
"You were a veteran. A single dad raising an amazing daughter. You were even in nursing school." I was talking faster now, trying to wrap my head around this. "How were those girls not throwing their panties at you?"
"Tasha—"
"No, seriously. A hot single dad in scrubs who was devoted to his daughter? I'm honestly shocked half those nursing students didn't get pregnant just from their ovaries practically staging a revolt in your presence."
He laughed despite himself. "It wasn't like that."
"A hundred horny co-eds werebeggingyou to fuck them and you told themno? For yourdaughter!?"
The crude words hung in the air between us, but I wasn't embarrassed. I was amazed. Awed, even.
"Paige needed stability," he said simply. "She needed to know that she could count on me, that I wouldn't bring people into her life who might leave again. So I made a choice."
And there it was. The thing that made Nathan Crawford different from every other man I'd ever known. Not just his competence or his kindness, but this—this absolute, unwavering devotion to his child that had led him to sacrifice his own needs for over a decade.
"Jesus, Nathan," I whispered. "You're..."
"What?"
"You're extraordinary."
* * *
I stared at him, the full weight of what he'd just told me settling in my chest. Eleven years. He'd been alone for eleven years, not because no one wanted him, but because he'd chosen his daughter over everything else. Over every opportunity, every moment of loneliness, every basic human need for companionship.
And now he was here, with me, letting me in. Trusting me with the most precious thing in his world.
I kissed him then, pouring all my admiration and desire and growing feelings into it. He responded immediately, his arms coming around me, pulling me closer. When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
"Tasha," he said against my lips.
"Take me to bed, Nathan. Please."
He did.
_______________________________________________________________
The bedroom was dim, the bedside lamp casting soft golden light across the rumpled sheets. Nate's hand was warm and steady in mine, but everything else felt electric—like the air had changed the moment the door shut behind us.
He pulled me gently against him, and I kissed him like I meant it. Because I did. Because I'd never meant anything more.
His fingers threaded into my hair, one hand slipping to the small of my back. I could feel how tightly he held himself in check, the tension just beneath the surface. When I deepened the kiss, pressing my body into his, he let out the smallest, roughest sound—half surrender, half warning.
