It Started With a Kiss (Insta-Spark) - Page 32

When, in fact, I knew I wasn’t thinking. I was feeling.

Caitlin poked her head in my door.

“Hey . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Daniel, what’s wrong?”

“What am I doing?”

She sat down across from me. “Avery, you mean?”

“I left her in my house. Alone. I don’t act like this—I’m never careless or impulsive.”

“Are you worried?”

I shook my head. “No. That’s what I’m worried about. I should be concerned.”

Her brow furrowed. “You’re worried about not being worried?”

“Yes.”

She studied me for a moment. “You know you sound like Dad, right?”

“Shut up.”

“You do. He talks about the way Mom bowled him over in seconds. You sound exactly like him.”

I flicked my hand. “Get out of my office.”

Her laughter drifted down the hall.

She was right, I did. Avery had bowled me over, so to speak. It shocked me how much I already felt for her and how well she seemed to fit into my life. Knowing she was there while I was at the clinic had made me anxious to be done for the afternoon. Normally, I was never in a hurry to leave, but I couldn’t wait for the day to end, and be able to spend more time with her. The excuse to help her find some socks was all I needed to hurry over and see her. Leaving her had been a difficult thing to do, even though I knew I had responsibilities waiting. I had to remind myself I would see her in a couple short hours.

Those hours seemed to drag, though.

Thoughts of her drifted through my mind between patients, and more than once Caitlin had to repeat herself when we were talking. She had laughed, teasing me about my unusual lack of concentration. Then she made a list of gifts I should buy her to say thank you. I ruffled her hair as I went past and tossed the list in the trash to piss her off, and she yelped, slapping my hand away. She hated having her hair messed up. I felt, as her brother, it was my right to drive her crazy—even if she was spot-on in this instance. The list reappeared on my desk later, and I tucked it in my drawer. She did deserve something. Maybe I’d have Avery help me pick out a surprise for her.

Even my clients noticed my mood; one elderly woman told me I had “that” look on my face. I laughed with her, not commenting, since I didn’t know what to say. It was a mystery, but I liked the feeling. Avery certainly brought forth something in me, and our connection was strong, even if it was still new.

Seeing her in my kitchen last night made it feel as though I was truly home. Waking up with her this morning felt so natural—her wild hair loose and flowing over the pillow, her hand fisted in my T-shirt.

Everything about her was a gift. Her sweet smile, expressive eyes, and her shy demeanor were all delightful, but it was her spirit—open and giving—that was truly amazing. Watching the emotions flit through her eyes as she talked about her grandmother or the sadness when she spoke about missing her parents made me long to erase her pain. Listening to her laugh when she shared more stories of her grandmother and growing up—I knew how deeply Avery felt about the people in her life. I also knew I wanted to be one of those people.

I was grateful to have been the one lucky enough to meet her, and be able to have her in my life. Now, I wanted to be the man she needed, one she could look up to, and who would always love and care for her. I wanted to be hers. As fast as this had happened, I was certain about that one thing. It was the same as knowing what I wanted to do with my life years before—a sure, unwavering conviction. We belonged together.

Carefully, so I didn’t wake her, I kissed her brow, and slipped out of bed to get ready for the day. I wished I could stay with her, but knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to resist her tucked close to me, warm and sleepy.

As it was, my cock was hard and aching for her, and I knew she wasn’t ready for such a huge step. I was content to take it at whatever pace she chose to set. As long as she was beside me, it was all that mattered.

I looked back before I left the room to go downstairs and work out. She was so small burrowed under the covers.

My little Sprite.

I grinned as I descended the steps.

Yeah.

Mine.

When I came out of the shower, the bed was made and she was gone. I threw on my jeans and hurried down the hall, relaxing when I could smell coffee.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Romance
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