Page 20 of Daddy's Christmas Rescue
She nodded, but I felt it more than saw it. Her curls tickled my chin. The bunny was squished between us and I grinned, one hand smoothing her hair back, the other resting at her hip. She fit there, perfect.
I could feel her shaking. Not fear. Just nerves. Or maybe something else.
“You want the blanket up?” I asked, because I needed to do something with my hands.
She nodded again. This time her voice was a ghost. “Please.”
I tugged the blanket up over her shoulders, tucking it carefully. Her fingers wouldn’t let go of the bunny. She clung to it like a lifeline. I let my hand rest on her shoulder and just breathed in the scent of honey from her bath.
God, I wanted to kiss the top of her head, but I didn’t.
She relaxed a little, but she was still so tense. I stroked her shoulder, slow, letting her feel every second of it. “You’re safe, Holly. That’s not going to change.”
She made a small sound. I felt it against my chest, not really a word. I held her tighter, not enough to scare, just enough so she knew I meant it.
“You tell me if you want space, all right? I’ll go.”
She shook her head so fast I thought she’d snap her neck. “Don’t go.”
That did something to me. I tried to breathe through it.
“Not going anywhere,” I promised. “You’re stuck with me, baby-girl.”
Baby-girl?What the fuck had I just called her?
I could feel it coming, even before her face tipped up. She was trembling, but not from fear. She looked at me like I was the only thing tethering her to the ground. Her eyes were huge, brown, wet at the corners. She got this determined look, breath hitching, and leaned in. Slow, careful, like she was afraid I’d flinch and leave her hanging.
I should have stopped her. I knew it even as her lips hovered, uncertain, inches from my own.
“Is it okay?” she whispered. I could smell the cocoa on her breath, sweet and tentative.
I froze. My heart slammed against my ribs. Every inch of my body wanted to crush her to me, but my brain screamed danger, not for me, but for her. She was so goddamn soft, so vulnerable, and I was a thirty-seven-year-old giant with hands too big and a temper to match. If I kissed her now, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop.
She must have seen something in my face. Her lips parted a little, and her chin wobbled. I could feel her confusion, the desperate ache to do it right, to be wanted.
She tried anyway. She leaned in and her mouth touched mine, barely a graze, so gentle it was like she didn’t believe she was allowed.
Fuck.
I jerked back. Not hard, but enough that her eyes shot open. She looked at me, panic rising, and immediately started to curl in on herself, arms around the bunny, blanket yanked up to her chin.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice already breaking. “I—I shouldn’t have. You don’t have to—I just thought—I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I won’t do it again, I’m sorry—”
My head spun. I wanted to grab her, tell her it was fine, that she hadn’t done anything wrong, but my mouth was stuck.
I got to my feet, hands up like I was warding off a fire. “Holly, it’s not that. You didn’t—you didn’t do anything wrong.” My voice was rougher than I meant it. How did I tell her I wanted nothing more than to feel her lips on mine?
She shook harder, curls hiding her face.
I backed up, not trusting myself. Not trusting that I wouldn’t make it worse. “I just—I need a minute, okay? I’m not angry. You’re not in trouble. I just…” I trailed off. Fuck. I’d handled explosives with steadier hands than this.
She nodded, tiny and quick, but wouldn’t look at me.
I left the room, closing the door softly behind me. I leaned against the wall, heart pounding, and scrubbed my hands over my face like that would erase the way I wanted her.
I could still feel the ghost of her lips on mine. The desperate hope in her eyes. The way she’d tried so hard to be good.
God, I was an idiot. I should have just held her, let her have what she wanted, but I was terrified of breaking her. Terrified of taking advantage. I wanted her, but I didn’t want to scare her, didn’t want her to think she had to give me anything. Swearing, I headed to the shower.
