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She reached up and ran her fingers over the back of my neck when I was focused on something, rested her hand on my thigh when I drove her somewhere in my old truck, gripped my fingers in hers if we were walking side-by-side.

I never discouraged her.

I also never instigated more.

I could hear Casper’s voice constantly reminding me that if I loved her, I wouldn’t hold her back. I wouldn’t give her a reason to bail on school or choose a lesser school just to be closer to me. It was my job to make sure that she knew she should go to the best school, not the one that kept her near me, but the one that would help her build a future. If I wanted to be with her, and I did, it was my responsibility to make sure that she picked wisely and for the right reasons. Because of that, I kept our touching to a minimum, no matter how badly I wanted my hands on her.

It was only a few months until she turned 18, but at that point, it no longer mattered. Sex changed things, especially sex with someone you cared about. It made feelings stronger and connections tighter, and that would be multiplied for Lily because she’d never been with anyone else.

I couldn’t tie her to me like that. Not yet.

So, like Casper had told me to that day in his office, I kept my hands to myself and my dick in my pants. It was easier than I’d thought it would be.

Loving her made everything easier.

“Guess who,” Lily whispered, covering my eyes with her slender fingers as I sprawled out on a couch reading. I swallowed hard as she bit gently on my earlobe.

“Mom?” I asked, feigning confusion.

“Oh, gross!” Her hands flew off my eyes as I laughed.

“What’re you doing here, gorgeous?” I asked, shifting a bit as she sat down. I was laying lengthwise across the cushions, and her ass was half in my lap and half between my hip and the back of the couch. It felt a little too good.

“Got out a bit early, so I came here instead of going home. Why aren’t you working?”

“Slow day.” Resting my hand on her thigh, I allowed my thumb to smooth back and forth across her jeans, but no more than that. “I’m flush, so I took the day off to let some of the other guys work.”

“That was nice of you,” she said, smiling.

“Worked out well for me,” I pointed out, shaking the book in my hand. “Gave me some time to read.”

“I love it that you read.”

“Everyone reads.”

“Not everyone reads for pleasure.”

Listening to her say pleasure was the highlight of my week.

“Most people just haven’t found the right book yet,” I said, dropping my paperback on the floor so I could fold my arm behind my head. “Or they have a hard time reading, but that would get better with practice.”

“What’s your favorite book?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Bullshit,” she said, pinching my chest.

“I’m serious,” I argued, grabbing her hand. “I have a bunch of books I re-read, but I don’t have a single favorite. Depends on what I’m in the mood for.”

“I like romance novels.”

“I’ve read a couple ‘a good ones,” I agreed, nodding.

“No way!”

“Yes, way.” I laughed. “You’d be surprised at how many romance novels are floatin’ around inside. I musta read like ten of ’em last time I was in.”

“How long were you there?”

“Just the weekend.”

“That’s a lot of books in one weekend.”

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?”

“Good point,” she said, nodding.

“Like this better,” I said quietly, grabbing my book off the floor. “Sittin’ here on a couch that smells like stale beer and weed, with a little sci-fi novel and you in my lap.”

She blew me a kiss, then leaned back and yanked her backpack from behind the couch.

“I’ll make it even better,” she said, lifting her eyebrows up and down.

She turned and slid until her head was on the arm of the opposite end of the couch, wiggled her ass until it was between my knees on the cushions, then brought her feet up and rested them on my belly, crossed at the ankles. A few seconds later, she had her own paperback in her hands and was happily ignoring me beyond the hand that was softly rubbing circular patterns on my shin.

“Jesus Christ, you’re perfect,” I said hoarsely, staring at her.

“I’ve been telling you that for years,” she said without taking her eyes off her book.

After an hour of silence, Casper came in the front door looking for her.

“Time to go, Lilybug,” he called, his eyes tracking from my end of the couch to hers. He paused and stared at the way my hand was wrapped around Lily’s foot, my thumb massaging the arch, but he didn’t say a word.

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