Page 72 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad

His brows rose, conceding my point. "Do you and Lindsay talk about me?"

"No."

He let out a long sigh. "It's probably because you don't want to tell her that you hate me. And because she doesn't want to hear it."

I didn't answer because that was the truth. Or at least it had been.

He continued to look up at the picture. “I didn't know what the hell I was doing when I became a father to Lindsay. I just knew I wanted to be good at it."

My heart clenched in my chest at the worry in his voice. "You are a good father."

"I don't know. You’d think by now, I’d have the hang of it, but I'm still not sure what to do." His gaze turned downward to my belly. "I don't want to fuck it up again."

I pressed my hand against his back, gently rubbing. "You haven't fucked anything up. Not with Lindsay, anyway."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with regret and pain. "I wonder how that can be true. I mean, I've never treated her like I’ve treated you. And yet, that part of me is inside me.”

"I think it’s normal. We all present differently to different people depending on the situation."

His gaze looked up at me. "I hate that sometimes, I present to you as a beast. Your Mr. Hyde."

I brought my hand back to my lap, looking down at it. "I don't much like it either."

He was silent for a moment. "I'm going to counseling."

I jerked my gaze back to him.

"I don't want to be Mr. Hyde. I want to be better."

Emotion welled inside me, although I couldn't quite determine why. He wasn't saying he wanted to be better for me, that he wanted a future with me beyond coparenting. And yet there it was, emotion blooming, so full that I couldn't stop myself from wrapping my arms around him in a hug.

His arms came around me, and he buried his face in my shoulder, at the base of my neck. For a moment, we just held each other, and then he peppered soft kisses along my neck and up along my jaw, and then his mouth was on mine. I nearly gave into it but finally caught myself pulling away.

"I've missed you, Miranda. I've missed how we were at the cabin."

Oh, how my heart ached to have that again as well. "But we’re not at the cabin, Brett. And if you remember, at the time, we only allowed that to happen because it was a moment away from reality. But we're not there anymore."

"Fuck reality," he barked, and I flinched. "Fuck. I'm sorry. That wasn't toward you. It was just general frustration."

I understood what he was saying because I could feel the difference. He hadn't told me fuck off. He’d lashed out at the situation.

My lips twitched upward slightly. "Those pesky cravings for things you shouldn't have are getting to you again."

He settled his forehead against mine. "Why can't I have what I want?"

His words caught me off guard. He lifted his head, his gaze inventorying my face as his fingers traced my cheek. His thumb brushed across my lips. Desire along with yearning filled my chest.

"Why can't I have what I want?" His lips were on mine again, and I found myself helpless to answer his question. Why couldn't he have what he wanted? Why couldn't I?

He pulled me back on the bed with him. “Let me touch you. Let me make you feel good.” His hand slid under my shirt, rubbing over my nipple, making it impossible for me to deny him. He tugged my shirt and bra up. “Miranda,” he murmured as he wrapped his lips around my nipple.

I let out a sigh, giving myself over to him. It was wrong. I’d likely regret it, but right now, I wanted this. I wanted him.

He kissed and caressed me as my clothes came off. Soon, I was naked on the bed next to Brett, who’d taken his shirt off but nothing else. “Let me make you feel good,” he said again. “Just feel.”

I did as he asked, letting him do whatever he wanted as I lay on my bed enjoying it. “Brett,” I sighed as he suckled my breast again.

“I’m here, baby.” He trailed his lips down my body, stopping at my belly, kissing me there. His fingers slid between my thighs, rubbing over my clit.

---