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She barked out a laugh. “Proud of me running that pitiful excuse for a paper, you mean? Not like we’re going to be in business much longer. No one wants to read the local paper anymore.”
“He’d be proud of you because you took a chance. You took ownership of your life and didn’t let your doubts stop you.”
She was silent for a second, and a smile crossed her face. “Thanks, Jeremiah. You knew my father better than anyone, so it means a lot to hear that. You always could get through to me.”
She stood up, and before I could stop her, she crossed the room, leaned down toward me, and wrapped her arms over my shoulders. Her breasts pressed nearly into my face since she was standing and I was sitting. It was hard to breathe, hard to think for a second. She pulled away, and the erection was back.
Thankfully, she didn’t look down. She looked straight in my eyes instead.
“I think I’m going to head out, but thank you for the talk. I’ve missed you, you know that?”
“I’ve missed you too,” I admitted.
Calm down, Jeremiah. This is Carl’s daughter, I kept repeating to myself.
I walked her to the door, and she gave me a proper hug. I swallowed hard, worried that she’d feel my erection against her body. But when she pulled away, she seemed oblivious. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, her soft lips brushing against my skin and sending the rest of the blood in my body south.
Get a grip, Jeremiah. Get a fucking grip. This is unacceptable.
Elle pulled away, and there was something in her eyes - a heat that I’d never seen before from her.
“Have a good night,” I said, yanking the door open. “And drive safely. Your father would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”
I brought up her father, hoping to remind both of us both of who she was to me. Her gaze fell and her cheeks flushed.
“Yes, of course. Have a good night, Jeremiah.”
She walked out the door, and I realized she’d left her scarf on my couch. But I wasn’t going to risk calling her back.
* * *
