"I wish you could stay forever," she says, her voice drowsy. "I love you."
Oh god. My eyes sting with tears. "I love you too, Lilliana."
She smiles and snuggles deeper into her pillow, and I sit there for a few more minutes making sure she's really asleep before I slip out of the room.
Henry's waiting in the hallway, and from the look on his face, he heard at least part of that conversation.
"She means it," he says quietly. "When she says she loves you."
"I know. I mean it too."
We stand there in the dimly lit hallway, the space between us charged with everything we're not saying. I should go back to my apartment. Give him space to play Santa, to handle Christmas Eve traditions with his daughter.
But I don't want to leave. I want to stay right here, in this house, with this family. Forever.
"I should let you do the Santa thing," I finally say.
He nods but doesn't move. "Maren—"
"I know." I do know. I can see the war happening behind his eyes—want versus responsibility, desire versus caution. "It's okay."
I slip past him and out into the night. The storm's completely passed, leaving everything blanketed in pristine white that glows under the moon. It's beautiful. Peaceful.
And I'm walking away from the man I want more than my next breath.
Around ten, there's a knock at my door.
My heart leaps into my throat. I pad across the room and open it to find Henry standing there, still fully dressed in jeans and that navy thermal, looking absolutely wrecked.
"Lilliana's asleep," he says, his voice low and rough. "I just spent the last hour playing Santa, arranging presents, and all I could think about was you."
"Henry—"
"I need to know." He steps closer, his eyes intense. "Are we doing this? Because if we are, I need you to understand: I'm all in. This isn't just sex for me, Maren. It's everything. You and me and Lilliana. A family. And if that's not what you want, you need to tell me now before I—"
I grab his shirt and pull him inside, cutting off his words with my mouth on his. He makes a surprised sound that turns into a groan, his hands coming up to frame my face as he kisses me back desperately.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"Does that answer your question?" I ask.
His smile is pure relief mixed with hunger. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."
"Good. Now get in here and kiss me again."
He's on me the second the door closes, backing me against the wall, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that's pure need. I moan into his mouth and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
"Been wanting this all day," he growls against my lips. "Watching you in those fucking leggings, that sweater. Do you know what you do to me?"
"Tell me," I gasp as his mouth moves to my neck.
"I wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter this morning. Wanted to pull those leggings down and fuck you." His hand slides down to grip my ass, pulling me against the hard length of him. "I'm a terrible father."
I laugh breathlessly. "You're a very good father. And a very bad man for making me want you this much."
"You have no idea how bad I can be." He chuckles, his teeth scrape over my pulse point, and I shudder. "But you're going to find out." He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with want. "Tell me what you want, Maren. Be specific."
"I want you to fuck me." The words come out bold, shameless. "I want you to make me scream. I want to feel you for days."
