Page 63 of A Brush with Love
“Upset you by hitting that guy. By stepping in. I-I’m not usually…” He loosened his tie, searching for the words. “I’m not like this.”
She gave him a blank look. “Like what?”
Dan groaned in frustration, throwing his arms out. “Like this! I don’t hit guys at parties or yell at old men visiting the dentist. I don’t show up uninvited to bars or dance in kitchens to awful nineties songs. I don’t do possessiveness. But when it comes to you…” He gestured at her and started pacing.
“When it comes to you, I’m an idiot. I say something stupid ordo the wrong thing. I have this caveman urge to strangle every guy who looks at you the wrong way. I want to walk three steps ahead of you to protect you from the world, because you’re nobody’s punching bag.” He glanced at her, his voice softening. “I constantly want to touch you. Hold you. Smother you with kisses. I dream about you. Think about you—it’s just you. Twenty-four seven. Only you.”
He stopped, scrubbing his hands over his face before arching his neck and looking up at the sky.
“And the thing is, I know you don’t need me. I know you don’t need me to protect you or shield you or play some hero at the party, but I can’t sit back and let you go it alone.” He huffed out a breath, turning to look at her.
“I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to you. I don’t know if I’m a meathead idiot or the friend you asked for, or something in between. I’m wrecked. I’m turned inside out and—”
Harper stepped forward, placing a finger to his lips, shutting him up.
He was frozen, trying to read the emotions flicking through her eyes. They stood still for several seconds, just staring.
Slowly, her hand slipped to the nape of his neck, tugging him down, hugging him to her.
His heart felt like it might crack from the gesture.
Dan wrapped his arms around her waist, enjoying the simple pleasure of being held and holding her back. He breathed into her neck, absorbing her heat and the sweetness of her skin. He wanted to stay there forever.
“What did they mean about your dad?” she whispered against his throat after a pause.
His spine stiffened. He didn’t want this moment to be tainted, for the closeness to end. Harper strengthened her grip around him, kneading her fingers into his neck to release the tension.
“Don’t pull away,” she said, her breath warming his skin. “You don’t have to tell me, but please don’t pull away.”
He’d lay his soul bare if it meant he could continue to hold her. Allowing himself one more second in that perfect moment, he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, memorizing the feel of her hair against his skin.
With a sigh, he pulled back just enough to look at her.
“Have you heard of the Craige-Cochran Caries Detection and Prevention System,” he asked, his tone going flat.
She gave him a wry smile. “Duh, it’s one of the greatest advancements in cavity prevention since water fluoridation.”
Dan nodded. “So you’ve heard of Dr. James Craige.”
“Of course. He and Dr. Cochran are the fathers of contemporary restorative dentistry. What’s your point?”
He gave her a pointed stare.
Dan could see the wheels turning in her mind and her face snapping into wide-eyed fascination when it finally clicked into place.
“You’re related to Dr. Craige?” Disbelief and something close to awe covered her features.
“He was my father.”
Her mouth gaped for a moment before her face fell and sadness filled her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dan. You must miss him so much.”
Dan stepped back, the cold replacing Harper’s warmth. He didn’t want her apologies, and his father’s memory didn’t deserve her sincerity.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she murmured, searching his face.
“I was going to tell you—I really was—but then you started talking about all of the assholes riding on their parent’s coattails, and I didn’t want to be placed in that category, even though it’s true, his reputation is the only reason I’m here.”
Harper opened her mouth to speak, but Dan couldn’t stop the words pouring out. “And how do I tell someone like you that he’s not someone I’m proud to know? One of the most famous practitioners in modern dentistry, and I hated his guts—I didn’t knowwhat you would think of me. And then if you equated me to someone like Travis or Jeffery because of my dad, it would drive me out of my mind, and I didn’t want you to think that my last name is all that I am because I don’t think that’s true and—”
