Page 48 of Promise Me This


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Except, those words never make it past my throat.

Her gaze dips to my mouth.

Just once.

Her pupils dilate. I wouldn’t notice if I weren’t watching her every reaction so intently.

The last threads of my restraint fray to the breaking point, and I lean in. The movement is cautious. Almost as if I go slowly enough, it won’t count as a stumble. Or it’ll give her time to come to her senses and pull away in horror.

But that doesn’t happen.

Instead, our mouths hover a breath apart until I can feel the warmth of her skin. The faint trace of her shampoo floods my senses, wrapping around every thought, until the last of my control snaps.

“Fuck,” I breathe as my lips brush over hers.

It’s a barely-there caress.

A test.

A mistake.

A promise.

All of the above and so much more.

The innocent sound she makes tears me wide open.

My hand lifts without conscious thought, sliding into the silky strands of her hair until my palm settles at the back of her skull. I cradle her, as if anchoring her to me and this moment, afraid if I don’t, it might vanish before I’m fully able to grasp it.

When my mouth finds hers again, I stop pretending I don’t want this.

That I don’t want her.

That I haven’t wanted her since the moment we were introduced.

The kiss unfolds gradually. There’s no rush or desperation, just the careful exploration of something new and fragile, something neither of us wants to break. Heat blooms where her lips meet mine, spreading outward in ways I didn’t expect, settling in all the dark corners it shouldn’t.

She melts into the kiss just enough to let me know she wants this too. When her mouth softens beneath mine, everything inside me draws taut, held in that dizzying space between restraint and surrender.

It’s been too long since I’ve felt anything close to this. Too long since I’ve even allowed myself to feel it. And that’s exactly why it scares the hell out of me.

I tilt my head just slightly, deepening the angle, needing to taste more of her.

“Daddy?”

The moment detonates with the sound of my daughter’s voice.

“I had a bad dream,” Elody calls out.

I break away from Kia so quickly the world tilts.

“I’m coming, honey.”

Even though my voice is steady, my body is not.

I’m on my feet and already halfway across the room before I realize it, as if putting distance between us might erase what just happened. My heart slams against my ribs, and it takes a second to notice that my hands are shaking.

After making my way down the hallway, I stop just short of Elody’s door and press my palm against the wall before bowing my head. I drag in one breath and then another. The air feels too thin, like my body is still trying to catch up with that kiss. The cold surface beneath my hand keeps me grounded and from doing something catastrophic. Like turning around, going back into the living room, and hauling Kia into my arms.