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12
Dane
“You need them ready by when?”
The vein of distress in Caiti’s voice pulls me from the puzzle Ophelia and I work on. She wears a path across the kitchen and back as she listens to whoever called her this early on a Saturday. From her side of the conversation, I’m gathering it to be her boss, which, for some reason, pisses me off. This is one of only two days a week we both have open before I head into the late-night shift, and Caiti takes over Ophelia for dinner and bed. She’s been attempting to establish distance while I’ve been looking forward to today since we wrote down our schedules.
She’s trying to stay in her lane while I want to direct her firmly in mine.
The time she gives me alone with Ophelia doesn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated. After only a week, the little girl has me wrapped around her tiny finger. The way she calls me Daddy only highlights how fucked I’ll be in her teenage years when she wants her way from her mother and me.
The problem is I have to convince them to stick around that long first. I’d like to do that in a way that doesn’t involve the legal system and expensive lawyers. My finances were tied up long before my daughter appeared at my door, and I’m not the type to tear a child away from their mother if there’s another option.
“Jason, it’s the weekend, and I—” Caiti pauses her wild pacing. “No. No, you’re right. I won’t get behind. Monday morning, I’ll be on top of it.” Another pause. “Yep. I know. I do remember telling you I’d be off until Tuesday, so that’s why this week has been short.”
She lifts her hand to glide through her silky black strands. I notice it trembling. Not sure if I’m about to hold her or rip the phone from her, I rise. The sudden movement attracts her glare to me, and she subtly shakes her head as if her boss can see my protective stance.
“I’ll get to it today. I’m sorry. Okay, talk to you soon. Bye.”
Before I can get a word out, she’s on the move to the bedroom.
“I have to work. Just let me know when you need to head downstairs, and I’ll open the door.”
The irritated demand keeps me rooted when I want nothing more than to chase her down.
“Is Momma sad?”
“Your momma is working hard so she can have more time to play with you.”
“You make Momma happy?”
Her little innocence flickers a flame to life in my chest. “I think she’s happiest with you.”
Those little eyes so like Caiti’s light up. “I wike playing with Momma.”
I resume my seat on the floor beside her and hand her a puzzle piece. She tugs it from my fingers and turns a pearly grin on me.
“I wike playing with you, Daddy.”
Suspended awe fills me as she fits another piece perfectly. I could watch her draw with a stick in the dirt and still be amazed that something so flawless belonged to me. “I do too, princess.”
Not five minutes later, she abandons her nearly completed puzzle in a search for something new. She’s constantly moving and discovering, often with her mother or me in tow. As much as I enjoy being her adult shadow, Caiti’s sudden exit nags at me with a desire to make sure she’s all right. I snag the tablet Caiti brought for their long car trip and offer the bribe to Ophelia. “Want to watch a show?”
“Yeah!” She punches two tiny fists straight into the air. She snatches the proffered tablet and scampers to the couch.
Without bothering to knock, I gently push open my bedroom door. The light is off. Only the dim glow of the laptop screen and a strip of the sun between the curtains illuminate the space. The soft glow is just enough to see the red splotches on her cheeks.
“Are you crying?”
“What?” She feels her face with the back of her hand. “No. My face turns red when I’m upset.”
“Did he call you back?” Any further communication this weekend would border on harassment.
“No. I’m just tired.” A subtle sigh slips out, punctuating her point. Her smile is crooked. “A lot has happened this week.”
She’s not wrong about that. “Why don’t you take a break?”
“I just started working today. I have to get this done.”
“Not today. Take a vacation. Your doctor said you could use two weeks.”
“That’s pretty short notice to give my boss.”
“An emergency came up. It’s not that far off.”
Her huff is adorable. “I had a panic attack. That’s far from an emergency.”
The reminder of her distress kicks my heart rate up a notch. “You have documentation. You deserve a break.”
She spins back to my desk and her laptop. “I can’t have a disturbance right now. Please.”
By the time she’s done arguing, I’ve moved behind her. My hands fit perfectly at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. The force of my thumbs rubbing the muscles there elicits a moan from her that travels straight to my eager junk. I lower my mouth to the space beside her ear. Her lashes flutter against her tan, freckled cheeks. “You need to relax,” I huskily murmur.
“That feels good,” she groans. “You’re distracting me.”
“I’ll work out a few kinks and leave you to it.” I keep my voice low. The goose bumps erupting on her skin sends my blood pumping.
“You don’t have to hurry.” She switches course.
I hit a particularly tight spot, causing her to gasp. The little sounds she makes are reminiscent of our night together. If I closed my eyes, I could picture her spread naked on my bed in this very room.
“I’m not the one trying to rush back to work.”
“Mmm,” she moans. “I really should get busy.” Her body undulates with the movement of my hands.
I didn’t plan this when I approached her, but now that I’m working over her soft skin, I realize I don’t have an exit strategy either. Her breathy moans and rhythmic movements culminate to make extricating myself nearly impossible.
Threading through her soft strands, I tilt her head to the side and expose her slender neck. Her breath catches, and I pause, lips close but not touching the smooth skin. I offer her an out. A part of me silently begs her to tell me to stop, while the other half nearly comes undone at the thought of tasting her skin again.
The further incline of her neck speaks to receptivity, and I waste no more time before touching my mouth to her pulse point.
“Dane!” She quietly gasps my name, a staccato on an exhale. My teeth follow the drag of my lips down the column of her throat. With eyes closed, I pepper her with kisses, breathing in the scent of cherry blossoms like a parched man brought to a drink.
The ascent takes longer as my journey nears the end. I’m pushing boundaries she doesn’t want to be challenged. Though she seems more than open to the prospect of having me close again if the way she melts in the chair is any indication.
A rumble breaks free from my chest. Reaching her ear, I leave one last kiss and position my mouth at the shell. “Now that you’re relaxed, I’ll let you work. Then I’m going to call a babysitter, and you’re going to join me downstairs for a drink and a night off.”
She straightens, forcing me to release her hair. I brush it with affection down the side of her neck. “I…okay. That does sound nice.” The breathless quality of her voice requires me to stop in the bathroom to adjust myself before I accomplish anything else.
“See you around seven.”
“I’ll be the hot mess in sweats. You can’t miss me.”
“I’ll be the one behind the bar, but you already know where to find me.” Thoughts of our first steamy encounter drift like tendrils of smoke through my mind.
She turns back to her screen in dismissal, but not before I catch her eager grin.
* * *
