Page 17 of Wrong Number, Right Single Dad
Though, I can understand that, given his situation. He’s the kind of man who will put aside his wants and his needs for his child.
And, damn it all, that only makes me like him more.
It only makes me want him more.
But that’s not what this is supposed to be about. We need to stop this before I go and do something stupid.
Like falling in love with him.
By the time Jared returns to the living room, I’ve folded the blanket and tucked it over the arm of the couch.
He frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Oh.” I glance around. “I figured since she was asleep, you’d want me to leave.”
“Do you want to leave?”
No. Yes. I don’t know. “I can stay.”
“Then, please.” He motions for me to sit back down. “Stay. Finish the movie.”
“Okay. I’ll stay until the movie is over.”
He sits beside me again, a little closer this time.
“Want some wine?” he asks.
I probably shouldn’t. We don’t need to muddy the waters any more than we had. “Sure. Some wine would be great.”
Apparently my brain and mouth aren’t on speaking terms at the moment. Or, at least, they aren’t working together.
He returns again with two glasses, and we sip in comfortable silence for a while. The house is quiet. Cozy.
It’s all feeling a little too… perfect.
“Thanks for inviting me along,” I say. “I had a good time.”
“Yeah?” He looks at me over the rim of his glass. “I did too.”
“I had no idea the aquarium could be so much fun.”
“Then you’ve never lived before.” He sets his drink on the coffee table. “But, you should know, it was more fun because you were there.”
There’s a moment—one of those thick, breathless stretches of silence—where we’re both just watching each other. My skin buzzes with awareness. When he leans in, I meet him halfway.
The kiss starts off slowly. Soft. Curious. Sweet.
It’s a kiss that isn’t about scratching an itch. It’s something else. Something more real. And impossibly sweet.
It’s nothing like the frantic, physical connection we’ve had thus far in our interactions.
This one means something.
I know what it means.
I don’t need to worry about falling for this man.
It’s too late.
