Chapter 22
River
Touching Callie in the tub was supposed to take the edge off. It should have settled the wildfire burning in my blood since the second I caught sight of her.
If anything, it made the desire rampaging through my veins a hundred times worse.
Now I know exactly how smooth her skin feels beneath my fingertips and the way she arches her spine and gasps when she’s dancing on the edge.
How she says my name, not like it’s a curse or a challenge, but like a promise.
Like it meant something.
Here’s what I know: I want so much more than her body.
I want every guarded glance, every quiet breath, all the pieces she keeps locked away because the world taught her not to trust. I want her laughter, the easy kind she’s forgotten how to let loose.
I want her mornings, her nights, her forever.
I pause outside Nora’s room before easing the door open, careful not to make a sound.
The nightlight casts a pale glow across the space, painting shadows on the walls.
My gaze finds her small form right away.
Her cheeks are flushed with the warmth of sleep as one small hand clutches the edge of her blanket while the other is wrapped tight around Gaffy.
She looks peaceful. Like nothing in the world can touch her. A knot pulls tight inside me at the sight.
At the weight of what I want to give them both.
I glance at the bare walls with their neutral tones, the rug that’s more practical than playful. It’s functional and serves a purpose. But it doesn’t belong to a child.
Nora deserves better than this.
They both do.
I make a mental note, already planning. Tomorrow, I’ll call a decorator.
Someone who knows how to bring color and light into the space.
Someone who can give this room life. Pink walls if she wants them.
A canopy bed draped in gauzy fabric. Maybe some twinkle lights.
Or a cozy reading nook filled with pillows and stuffed animals.
We could add a mural. Bunnies and stars, or even a rainbow.
Whatever Nora dreams of, I’ll find a way to make it happen.
Maybe it’s too much, too fast, but I don’t give a damn.
I want to build something for them.
No, I want to build something with them.
A home.
A future.
A life that feels like more than going through the motions.
With one last glance at Nora’s peaceful form, I close the door. I’ll figure out a way to keep both Callie and her daughter, no matter what it takes.
When I step back into the bedroom, the bedside lamp casts everything in honeyed light.
Callie is already curled beneath the covers, her silhouette outlined in shadows.
Her blonde hair spills across the pillow like silk, and the sight of her in my bed, tangled in my sheets, looking like she belongs there, makes every instinct within me roar with need.
She glances up as I enter, her gaze meeting mine in the quiet hush of the room. For a beat, everything goes still. The heavy weight of what I feel for her presses in, coiling around my ribs like a vise.
Without a word, I tug my shirt over my head. The cotton catches slightly on my shoulder. Her gaze never leaves me. I feel the heat of it like a brand on my skin. The rustle of denim fills the silence as I unbutton my jeans and let them fall to the floor.
Still, she doesn’t look away. Her breathing changes, becoming shallow and slower as she grips the edge of the blanket like it has the power to steady her.
Even more surprising is she doesn’t try to hide her interest.
It’s a small thing, maybe. But it means everything. It’s a tiny crack in the walls she’s built around herself. A glimpse of the curious and brave woman hiding behind the facade.
God, I want her to stop fighting this.
I want her to lean into whatever’s building between us.
I want to be the soft place she finally lets herself rest.
Her comment breaks the quiet. “You have tattoos.”
I pause, catching her eyes as I let her see all of me. “A few.”
Her gaze dips, tracing the ink on the left side of my ribcage, her curiosity fighting to break free. “What’s that one for?”
Each step is careful, like I’m approaching a skittish animal that will bolt if I move too quickly. “That one’s for Willow.”
Her gaze roves over me. “You two must be close.”
I nod, settling on the edge of the mattress, close enough for us to touch.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “She was diagnosed with leukemia when we were in high school. And for a while, it was bad. Really bad.” When the words get stuck in my throat, I swallow them down and keep going. “There were times when I thought we’d lose her.”
Callie’s features relax, and for a moment, all the guarded distance she keeps between us dissolves.
“I’m sorry,” she says gently. “That must’ve been terrifying. I can’t imagine.”
“It was.” I glance down at my hands, at the ink on my skin, before looking back at her. “But she’s okay now. Married, actually. To Maverick McKinnon.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, and the tension in the room lightens as she smirks. “Wait… are we talking about that Maverick McKinnon?”
I grin. “Let me guess. You think he’s good-looking.”
Her eyes sparkle with amusement as she shrugs. “I mean, who doesn’t?”
The smile tugs wider at my mouth as heat pools low in my stomach. “Is that so?”
I pounce in one fluid motion, bracing my weight and pinning her wrists to the mattress as I hover inches above her. Our bodies don’t quite touch, but the space between us crackles like a live wire. It’s electric and volatile, pulsing with all the things we haven’t said.
Her lips part on a shaky exhale as her chest rises. The desire she’s trying so damn hard to bury, flares in her eyes, breaking through the surface like a spark catching flame.
Her pulse flutters beneath my fingertips where I hold her wrists as her gaze stays locked on mine. It’s wide, filled with something raw and unspoken.
It’s so damn tempting to kiss her.
Hell, I’d like nothing more than to devour her in one tasty bite.
Instead of giving in to temptation, I hold still and inhale her sweet scent, letting her feel the power in this moment and know that it belongs to her.
I’m not here to take.
I’m here to give her the choice.
The permission to decide.
When she doesn’t pull away, I dip my head close enough to taste the air between us and feel the hunger clawing at my ribs.
“You better be careful, sweetheart.” My voice is low and rough as it frays the edges of my restraint. “Keep talking like that, and I won’t be able to control myself.”
She swallows hard as a shiver courses through her and her legs shift restlessly beneath me. There’s a war being waged in her eyes. She’s unsure if she wants to surrender or escape.
Should she give in to the want or cling to self-preservation?
God, I want this woman.
Not just tonight.
Or for now.
I want her forever.
My gaze dips to her mouth. The slight tremble of her lower lip and the subtle invitation written across her expression calls to something primal deep inside me.
Even when her lips part and her eyes darken with desire, I don’t move.
Callie isn’t a distraction, a temporary fix, or a one-night escape from reality. She’s the future I didn’t know I was missing until the moment she walked into my life.
The sad truth is that she’s not ready yet.
Not in the way I need her to be.
Not for what I’m offering.
I want more than just her body pressed beneath mine.
I want her trust.
Her truth.
Her heart.
Every scar.
Every shadow.
All the pieces she never lets anyone see.
Already, I realize that if I push now and take more than she’s ready to give, I could lose it all.
So, I do the only thing I can, and force myself to retreat.
My fingers loosen from around her wrists, the contact slipping away even though every part of me protests. I sit back slowly, putting space between us, even when it feels like I’m ripping out a piece of myself to do it.
The silence stretches as I watch her closely. It would be impossible not to notice the way her expression shifts. How she processes what didn’t happen.
Even though it’s only been a few days, I’m getting better at reading her.
Disappointment flashes in her eyes before she can hide it. And that nearly undoes me on the spot. I could have kissed her and given her what we both wanted. Confusion settles in next. She doesn’t understand why I stopped or what it means.
And finally, the one that confirms I made the right call.
A burst of relief that’s small and fleeting, like it was caught inside for too long.
When I reach up and gently brush the backs of my knuckles along her cheek, she leans into my touch before she can think better of it.
It’s instinct.
The beginning of trust.
And it’s everything.
“Get some sleep, Callie.” My voice is rough with everything I’m fighting to keep locked up.
Like how I’d burn the world down to make her feel safe.
How I’d wait a lifetime if that’s what she needed from me.
How she already owns my heart and doesn’t even realize it yet.
Before she can respond or I can change my mind and give in to the gravitational pull between us, I rise to my feet. Every muscle screams in protest as I circle to the other side of the bed. The mattress dips beneath my weight as I lie beside her, careful to leave a sliver of space between us.
Not because I want the distance.
But because she needs it.
Getting impatient and rushing her now would be the quickest way to lose her.
The room falls into silence. It’s the kind that buzzes with everything that hasn’t been said.
It’s the kind that holds its breath and waits.
I stare up at the ceiling, all the while steadying the storm inside me and trying to forget the way her skin felt against my hands. The way she looked at me like I could be something more than the man she thought I was.
Like maybe I could be the one she lets in.
Beside me, the sheets rustle.
A small shift, then another, and I know she’s turned to face me.
I don’t move.
I wait as a long moment stretches between us and then her chest begins to rise and fall in a slower rhythm, the tension in the room easing with each passing second.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Steady and trusting.
As if whatever battle she was waging inside herself has finally quieted enough to sleep.
Even though our bodies aren’t touching, I’ve never felt closer to her. Never felt something more intimate than her turning toward me in the dark and letting herself rest.
She doesn’t have to say it. Not out loud.
Because I feel it.
She’s letting me in.
Inch by inch.
And I’ll earn each and every one of them.
This thing between us isn’t about lust.
It’s not about the high of the moment.
It’s about her.
It’s about showing up and being the kind of man she and Nora can count on.
Every damn day.
So I stay exactly where I am as the silence wraps around us. And in the dark, I make a promise I don’t need to speak out loud to mean.
I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. When you’re ready for more—when you’re ready for me—I’ll be here waiting.