Page 134
“What does?”
I locked gazes with him.
“Daddy.” I cupped his cheek. “And just so you know, the whole Daddy-with-warmth thing?” I kissed him on the lips. “It works.” Another kiss. “You make it easy to trust you.”
Max stared at me, and I wondered for a second if I’d taken a wrong step. Then he pulled me on top of him, held my face, and kissed me.
I couldn’t think of a more perfect response.
Chapter Twenty-One
Max
The light in my bedroom was pale and grey, the kind that makes everything feel suspended for a moment before the day begins.
Quinn was warm against me, one leg thrown loosely over mine, his breathing slow and even against my shoulder. His hair was a mess. There was a faint crease on his cheek from my pillow.
I didn’t move, partly because I didn’t want to wake him, and partly because I didn’t want to disturb the reality of this.
His fingers shifted against my chest. “You’re awake,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.
“Yes.”
He craned his head to look at me. “Are you… watching me?”
I smiled. “Guilty.”
“Have I broken any more of your rules?”
“You haven’t—I have, though.”
No Daddy had gone out the window. And no emotional entanglements was looking pretty shaky too.
He studied me for a moment. “You don’t look like someone who regrets breaking a rule.”
I kissed his forehead. “That’s because I don’t.”
Truth.
He smiled. “What time is it?”
I peered at the alarm clock. “Seven. And we both have work this morning.”
“Can I come back here after work tonight?”
I sighed. “Sorry. Tuesdays and Thursdays are rehearsal nights.”
“What part do you sing?”
I smiled. “What do you think I sing?”
“I see you as being all intense and bass-y.”
“That is not a word.”
He grinned. “It is now. Well?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I sing bass.”
