Chapter 4 Two Holidays

Dominic's POV

I woke up already tired. Not the physical kind. The kind that settled into your bones when sleep refused to come because your mind wouldn't shut up.

I lay staring at the ceiling, replaying moments I shouldn't have remembered so clearly. The hallway. Her breath hitching. Her eyes had closed like she trusted me with something I had no right to take.

Sitting up, I dragged a hand down my face. Her being here was a mistake. Me letting it happen.

Callie Morgan had walked back into my house like she'd never left, and somehow, the control, discipline and distance I'd spent years rebuilding had started to crack quietly.

I dressed quickly and went downstairs, then I heard soft, familiar laughter. Slowing to a stop, I paused at the foot of the stairs, unseen, watching her in the kitchen with Jenna.

Callie had her hair tied loosely, sleeves pushed up as she leaned against the counter, listening in the way she always had.

My daughter was animated as usual, waving her hands, exaggerating a story, and she was laughing. Unguarded, her head was tilted back slightly, with her shoulders loose.

Jenna has always been responsible for that laughter.

"...and then he said, 'Maybe we should take a break,'" Jenna finished, rolling her eyes. "Like he was doing me a favour."

"Brave man." Callie snorted, amidst laughter.

For a second, I simply watched them. I felt unsettled seeing how natural she looked in my house.

"Dad," Jenna said, spotting me. "You're hovering again."

"I live here," I replied dryly.

Callie turned toward me, and I noticed her expression turn tight. The soft smile on her face had vanished. Our eyes met. I could have sworn I saw her eyes flicker with disappointment but they blinked and were replaced with her usual gaze.

"Morning." She greeted me. I replied with a nod.

Then I broke eye contact first. For some unknown reason, I couldn't talk to her. The disappointed look was stuck in my head. And I went about my day wondering why.

Not too long after, Jenna stepped out of her room, her phone in hand, keys already jingling.

"I'm meeting Sam," she announced. "I'll be back later."

My eyebrows met, she's been going out a lot lately.

"You've been going out a lot."

"Dad," she whined, grabbing my arm. "It's just growth and independence. Besides, my love life isn't as boring as Callie's."

Callie, who had just stepped out of her room, gave a playful gasp and they laughed.

"Text me when you arrive."

"I will," she said, already halfway out the door. "Try not to bore Callie with your boring talks while I'm gone." Then the door shut behind her.

Thick silence settled in. I turned toward Callie. She was standing by the window now, watching the snow drift down, arms folded loosely around herself.

Then her eyes moved toward me, darting around but hesitant.

"I want to grab a box in the storage room behind the house, and I need help with it." She paused, finally focusing her gaze on me.

"I'm not quite tall, your height is just what I need to grab the box." She added.

I felt my lips twitch in a small smirk. All the long talk for just asking for a little help. Hmm, she's still too polite.

"If that's all, then lead the way," I replied to her.

The walk to the back of the house had passed in a haze because I was lost in my thoughts. Callie's voice brought me back to reality.

"Here we are," she said, her tone sounding unsure.

The cold Christmas air bit into my skin as I walked ahead of her into the storage room. I noticed the cold bumps covering her skin as she shivered.

"Cold?" I asked.

"A little," she said in a low tone. "I guess I had no idea how cold it was out here." She wrapped her arms around herself.

Her top was thin and the fabric hugged her when she moved. My gaze dropped before I could stop it. The cold had made her nipples visibly hard beneath the light material.

Her cleavage was fair and full. And her breasts were bigger than before she left. I looked away immediately wondering why I hadn't noticed it since she arrived.

Because she's always in sweaters.

"There," she said, pointing to the dusty shelves. "Third shelf."

I reached over her shoulder, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her back through my shirt. That was when her scent hit me then. It was clean, soft, with a floral fragrance underneath.

I inhaled sharply while I grabbed the box. But then I almost stumbled and she turned sharply and shifted back. So I bumped into her and her back hit the shelf.

I could feel her soft breasts pressing hard on my almost bare chest. The warmth from her spread quickly through my skin and I felt an energy move between us.

She looked up at me with her hazel eyes. Neither of us moved away. My eyes left hers and slowly trailed down to her lips.

And they were nothing but seductive. At that moment, all the restraints I've ever built vanished into the snow outside.

Lowering my head, I placed my lips on hers softly. Kissing her before my conscience tugged at me.

Gosh, her lips are still soft and full. Just like the first time I'd placed my lips on hers.

She parted her lips and a quiet moan escaped her and went straight through me. Immediately, I pulled back before the kiss could deepen.

She looked at me with longing and confusion.

"It was a mistake," I said, but my voice sounded like I had lied.

I stepped back, creating space between us. "I shouldn't have done that."

My eyes landed on her seductive lips that were parted to say something. I quickly handed her the box and turned away before I kissed her again.

As I sat on my bed, the kiss replayed in my head. The way she'd kissed me back without hesitation. How my body had responded despite every rule I'd set for myself.

Staring down, I looked at the huge bulge that had formed between my legs. It was hard from one kiss. I got up, pacing around the room, my heart racing faster than before.

I was frustrated and angry at myself for wanting her. Grabbing my phone, I typed the message before I could think too hard.

'Are you free this afternoon?'

I set back my phone when the message was sent.

I had crossed a line. And I wasn't sure which part of me was more afraid. The one who wanted to take it back

or the one that didn't.