Page 37 of The Single Dad Dilemma

“I can rub it if you want.” I gulp. I don’t know what possessed me to say it. Clearly, after seeing the dick print, I have less self-control than I did earlier. I guess I’m fickle like that.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” he says, sitting down on his side of the bed.

“You didn’t,” I say. “I offered.”

Ridge looks at me for a whole ten seconds without saying anything. Which doesn’t seem like a long time, but trust me—try it. It’s a long-ass time when it’s silent.

“In that case,” Ridge says, twisting to give his back to me. “I gladly accept.”

I turn toward him and lift myself onto my knees to gain better leverage. “So you said between your shoulder blades, right?” I press lightly at the narrowest part between them, rubbing in a circular motion.

Ridge hisses. “Yeah, right there.”

I press harder and he groans. Jesus, I did not think this through. He moans again when I press my thumbs on either side of his spine, applying a generous amount of pressure as I run up toward his neck. He makes another delicious noise, and it makes me wonder if he’s this verbally reassuring during sex.

My hands travel over his shoulders, digging into his flesh. I rub circles over the tension there, causing his head to roll forward as he groans again. And that last one does me in. I feel wetness between my legs. Suddenly, all I want to do is take care of him in every way.

“Darcy,” he whispers. There’s a quality to his voice, almost melancholy.

“Yeah?”

“You have to stop.”

My hands freeze in place as I sit back on my heels. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“Fuck no,” he says. He sighs as he laughs. “You just… you have to stop.”

“Okay,” I say, removing my hands from him.

There’s a reluctance in the way he rises, leaving me sitting on my knees in the middle of it. I’m feeling a little confused and dejected.

Meanwhile, Ridge begins to pace at the end of the bed, looking over at me every few seconds.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, placing my hands on my lap.

He’s running his hand over his mouth and jaw over and over again, clearly bothered by something. I can’t think of anything I did that would upset him like this.

I try again. “Are you okay?”

“No, Darcy,” he says. “No, I’m not fucking okay.”

I stay silent, giving him the space to say more when he’s ready. I’ve never seen him like this. He looks positively shaken by something.

“Do you understand that all I want to do is be honest with you right now, but doing so might mean you never want to see us again or nanny for Lou anymore?” he huffs out in a breath.

“Have a little more faith in me than that, Ridge,” I say, attempting to sound playful. “I’m sure whatever it is won’t scare me off.”

He stops pacing and faces me. His eyes still hold a little hesitation, but then he squares his shoulders and exhales.

“Do you have any fucking idea how fucking beautiful you are?” A small chuckle escapes him. It’s filled with nervous energy and a touch of chaos.

I blink several times, my mouth opening slightly to respond but nothing comes out. Because, did he really just say that? What do I say in return? Why is my throat constricting?

“What’s underneath that T-shirt?”

His question shocks me a little. I wasn’t expecting that at all. But it’s not a bad kind of shocked, like I’m appalled. Instead, I’m feeling quite… turned on.

“Just my panties,” I say honestly.

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