Page 54 of Hold Me Tight

But it doesn’t feel like any of those things.

Not even close.

What River gave me wasn’t just pleasure. It was much deeper. Something real.

And that’s terrifying.

The last thing I want to do is fall for River Thompson.

But… What if it’s already too late and that’s exactly what’s happening?

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.