Page 96 of Baby for my Daddy's Best Friend

She deserves space, though I’m not sure how much longer I can stay away from her. I need to let her make up her mind whether she wants me again or not.

She tugs at the front of her shirt as we pull away, and I use the opportunity to plant a chaste kiss on her cheek before leading her to the car.

It’s not like I expected her to declare her love for me as soon as we saw each other, though I would certainly like that. But the silence that hangs in the air between us is new.

My fingers tap along the steering, and she barely looks my way even once.

What I would give to be inside that head right now. What are you thinking, Quinn?

Quinn is surprised when I pull into my driveway.

“That’s not the hotel.”

It’s the first thing she’s said to me in the last half an hour.

“Quite the observer.” I smile at her, and then get out of the car to take her luggage out of the trunk.

She follows me, looking confused.

I look at her. “You don’t look too happy.”

Her body language screams that she wants to run and hide.

I’m beginning to wonder why she even made the ten-hour trip to begin with.

“It’s not that.” She sighs, her gaze fixing on mine for a brief moment before looking at the floor, “I just thought we’d go to the hotel to drop the luggage first. I don’t want to inconvenience you too much.”

I shrug as I lead her inside the house. “It’s just me living here, so there is plenty of room. There is no need for you to go to a hotel. You’d be too far.”

She frowns.

I lead her down the hallway and open one of the doors. “This is your room. I hope this is okay?”

Though, I’d much rather prefer that you stay in mine.

Her being this close to me is making it difficult to control my thoughts.

My eyes trail down her body. Her clothes are loose, but somehow, she fills them out perfectly enough to get my imagination running.

I want to reach out and grab her hips and tell her just how much I missed her by taking her against the wall, but I control myself.

As hard as it is. In all the ways it can be.

She’s oblivious, though. There’s a certain kind of self-consciousness to her that is entirely new. This is not the Quinn I remembered.

“Should we…” I hesitate. “Would you like to rest first, or can we talk now?”

“Talk now is fine. I slept a bit on the plane.”

“Good.” The sooner we get the awkwardness out of the way, the sooner I can have her in my arms again and maybe even move her to my room, where she belongs.

I lead her to the living room, and she sits nearly two seats away from me.

My eyes wander over to her lips again. The air between us is thick.

“Quinn?”

She looks up.

---