Page 16

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

MAX

Kicking off the blankets, I pad barefoot into the hallway. The soft glow of the night-light is already pouring from Caroline’s room, the sound machine still humming its static lullaby in the background.

I push the door open the rest of the way—and stop.

Delaney’s already there.

She’s in an oversized T-shirt and sleep shorts, her hair a little wild on top of her head. She’s gently rocking Caroline against her shoulder, whispering something I can’t quite make out. Her voice is low and rhythmic. Calming.

And it’s working—Caroline’s cry is already fading into a tired whimper.

I lean against the doorway, watching for a beat too long.

Delaney turns, eyes wide in surprise. “Oh,” she whispers. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” I murmur, stepping into the room. “I was already up.”

She raises a brow, amused. “You were not.”

“Okay, fine. I was asleep. But I had to come see what my little girl needed.”

She smirks as I approach, shifting Caroline slightly in her arms. “She just needed a reset, I think. We’re okay.”

I nod but still hover, brushing my hand gently over Caroline’s back.

Delaney hesitates. “You can go back to bed. I got her.”

“It’s okay.”

“This is what you pay me for, Max. So you can sleep. Remember?”

“I know. She’s just so adorable right now.” My hand stills as my fingers brush against Delaney’s. A jolt of energy shoots through me.

She doesn’t react. Doesn’t flinch or even look up. Instead, she steps away and eases into the rocking chair, folding her legs beneath her while holding Caroline securely to her chest.

I lower myself to the floor, back resting against the crib. The three of us sit in silence, the white noise filling the space, broken only by Caroline’s soft, sleepy breaths.

“She’s so precious when she’s sleepy. It’s hard to put her down when she’s this cute. She’s getting so much bigger, too,” Delaney murmurs after a while.

“Yeah,” I say, looking up at them. “She is. I swear, every day, she changes just a little more.”

“They grow so fast at this age.” Delaney smiles. It’s small and warm and extraordinarily pretty.

My attention moves from my daughter to the woman holding her, and my skin flushes with heat. “This is unusual, right? Her waking up now? She’s been sleeping so well.”

“She’s been extra drooly. Might be cutting another tooth.”

I nod. “Makes sense.”

She looks stunning in the dim light. The soft glow from the night-light casts shadows across her face, highlighting the slope of her cheekbones and the curve of her jaw. Her skin looks soft, flawless, and real.

I hate how badly I want to reach out. To cup her jaw. To pull her closer. To feel what I’m not supposed to feel.

“I know I tell you every day,” I say quietly, “but you’re so great with her, Laney. Caroline is thriving—she’s happy, she’s safe, she’s so loved. We’re both lucky you’re here.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” she replies softly, cheeks flushing even in the dim light.

“You can take most of it. I had no idea what I was doing before you showed up.”

She meets my eyes over the top of Caroline’s soft curls, her voice even gentler now. “You’re doing great, Max. You’re a good dad.”

The words hit hard. Dad. It still doesn’t feel real. Like a title I’m wearing but haven’t earned.

I look away, letting my head rest against the crib. “She used to cry every night. I’d walk laps around this room, bouncing her, whispering to her. Nothing worked. I was so close to breaking.”

Delaney shifts Caroline a little higher on her chest. “You didn’t, though.”

“No,” I say. “I didn’t.”

She looks down at the baby, gently stroking her back. Caroline lets out a soft sigh and nestles deeper against her chest.

I watch them, taking it all in—her hands, her calm, the way she sways without even thinking about it. And something inside me shifts. I've always known she was beautiful. Anyone with eyes can see that. But it’s more than that now. She’s important. Needed. She’s wanted —by me.

Maybe it’s the hour. Maybe it’s the silence. Maybe it’s the fact that we’re barefoot and bleary-eyed, sharing this impossibly quiet space. But I feel it—thick, heavy, real.

Delaney looks at me again, and I realize I’ve been staring.

“I should lay her back down,” she whispers.

But she doesn’t move.

I don’t either.

The moment stretches between us like a held breath.

Finally, she stands, slowly easing Caroline into her crib. She tucks the blanket around her tiny body, then steps back and crosses her arms like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“She’s good,” she says, barely above a whisper.

I nod, throat tight. “Thanks for getting her back to sleep.”

“That’s my job,” she repeats gently.

“Still,” I say, locking eyes with her. “Thanks.”

She gives me a look I can’t quite read, then turns and heads for the door. I follow her out, and she softly clicks the nursery door closed behind us. We stand there, alone in the hallway.

Her bedroom is just a few feet away.

Mine is in the opposite direction.

We don’t move.

There’s so much I want to say—too much. Most of it is still a jumbled mess in my head. This past month has flipped my world upside down. But Laney has made it feel manageable. Even more than that… she’s made it feel like home.

She’s brought a light into this house I didn’t know I needed. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t completely and totally wrecked by her.

“Good night, Max,” she says softly.

“Night, Laney.”

She gives me a small, almost shy smile, then slips into her room.

I stand there a second longer, wondering what would’ve happened if I’d reached out. If I’d said one more thing. If I’d let the moment stretch just a little longer.

But I didn’t.

I head to bed alone, trying—and failing—not to imagine the feel of her skin beneath my hand. Or how intoxicating her lips would taste pressed against mine.

In bed, I stare at the ceiling, sleep refusing to find me. Images of Laney fill my head—her skin, her smile, the spattering of freckles across her nose. The way her green eyes light up when I walk into a room. That has to mean something. I have to affect her the way she affects me.

She’s good at hiding her emotions, but there’ve been signs. Long pauses. Awkward exchanges. The flush of her cheeks. The flare of her nostrils when I lean in too close. She wants me too… right?

I drag a hand through my hair, frustration simmering. I need to know. Maybe I’m about to screw everything up, but if I stay in this bed for another minute, the pressure inside me is going to explode.

I throw off the blanket and get up. Logic and all the reasons this is a terrible idea vanish. I’m moving on instinct now—pure want, pure need. Nothing has to happen. I just need to ask the question. I need to know if I’m losing my mind or if she feels it too.

I stop outside her door, chest rising and falling, the last flicker of reason whispering for me to turn around.

Fuck it.

I rap my knuckles softly against the door and wait.

No answer.

I knock again. Still nothing.

But I swear—I swear —I hear her voice.

Hesitantly, I turn the handle and open the door.

My breath catches.

Delaney lies on the bed, headphones over her ears, eyes squeezed shut. One hand is between her legs, her body squirming beneath her own touch. Her legs are spread wide, utterly exposed, lost in the moment—completely unaware that I’m here.

My whole body ignites. Heat floods me, rooting me in place as I steady myself against the doorframe. I know I should look away. I know I should close the door and walk out. But I can’t move.

She must sense my presence because her eyes flutter open—and she gasps, a squeal ripping from her throat as she scrambles to cover herself.

“Max!” she cries, yanking her hand up to her chest. She tosses the headphones aside, panic flooding her features. “What are you doing?”

My legs move before I think better of it, desire driving every step. I cross the room and stop at the side of her bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice is low, urgent.

“What?” Her brows furrow.

“I told you to come to me if you needed anything. Why didn’t you?”

Her eyes widen. “Max—no.”

“I can help you,” I say, my voice softening, thick with something I can’t quite name. “You just have to ask.”

Her gaze drops down my body, landing on the obvious strain in my boxers. Her lips part, a flicker of her tongue appearing before she drags her eyes back up to meet mine.

“We can’t,” she whispers, but even she doesn’t sound convinced.

“Okay,” I murmur, stepping closer, my knees brushing the mattress. “We won’t. But if you need relief… if you just need to feel something—I can help you.”

Her expression shifts, something unspoken flickering in her eyes. “Max…” she breathes, my name falling from her lips like a secret, like a confession.

She pulls the covers to her chin, her defenses starting to crumble.

I climb onto the bed and position myself behind Delaney.

Sitting up against the headboard, her back rises and falls against my chest. My face lowers, and my lips linger beside her ear.

“I meant it when I said to come to me if you needed anything. Tell me what you need, Laney. No strings attached. I just want to help you. Tell me.” I nibble her earlobe, and she squirms.

“Max,” she pants.

“Tell me,” I order.

The room is silent save for our heated breaths as Laney decides what to do.

“What do you need, Laney?” I whisper against her neck.

Finally, she relents. “I need to come.” Her voice is a soft whimper.

“What do you need from me?” I ask, making her say it.

“I need you to make me come, Max.” The back of her head pushes against my chest as she tilts her face to see me.

Lowering my face, I hover my lips against hers. “I would love to help you with that. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she groans against my lips.

My lips find hers, claiming what they’ve wanted since the first time I laid eyes on her. My tongue slides into her mouth, and she greets me with a moan of pleasure, her tongue tangling with mine. Our mouths collide—frantic, hungry, and desperate for more.

My hands wander. First, beneath her T-shirt where, I find her perky breasts and taut nipples.

I tug and pull at her nipples as she voices her pleasure against my mouth.

My skin hums as my palms slide south over the soft skin of her belly toward the apex of her spread legs.

When my fingers find her opening, hot and wet with need, our kiss breaks as we groan out in unison as I push two fingers inside her.

I begin pumping my hand. She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling herself flush against me. Her body moves with mine, responding to every shift, every touch, her breaths quickening as she chases the release she was already reaching for before I even walked in.

I hold her tighter, my fingers matching her rhythm, her soft gasps growing louder, more desperate.

The tension between us builds, sharp and electric, and she rides my fingers, ensuring they go in as deep as possible.

I thrust my fingers inside her until her cries break free, high and breathless, filling the room with the sound of everything we’ve been suppressing.

Holding her against me, her body alive with pleasure, is almost more than I can handle. I can’t imagine what it’d feel like to be inside her.

Removing my fingers, I slide them up to her clit and rub.

She cries out, “Oh, yes! Right there.” She fists my hair at the nape of my neck and pushes her back against me as if the sensations between her legs are almost too much. I rub, flick, and pull against her bundle of nerves, increasing my tempo, needing to feel her explode against me.

I kiss and suck against her neck, my fingers still between her legs as her body starts to shake.

She releases a moan into the lust-filled space that sounds equally as pained as it does pleasured. She shutters as she comes hard, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

Her body slows, and she slumps against me, taking deep breaths as she comes down from her high. “Is that what you needed, Laney?” My words are a gravelly whisper.

“Exactly. What. I. Needed,” she pants.

I move out from behind her, and her head falls to the bed. “Think you got one more in you?” I flick off the bit of blanket that’s covering her and kiss down her body.

“Oh, Max…” Delaney sighs, and I take her response as a yes.

My mouth finds the spot where my fingers just were, and Delaney cries out. I insert two fingers deep inside her and start pumping as my tongue worships her clit. I’m so hard, a simple touch would make me explode, but this isn’t about me. This is 100 percent about her.

I’ve imagined this moment so many times, but none of those fantasies even come close to the real thing. She’s beyond anything I could’ve dreamed—beautiful, warm, and open. Everything about her feels perfect.

It doesn’t take long before she’s unraveling again, and when her body begins to soften in my hold, I trail kisses up her skin, slow and reverent. I pause at her lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss there before easing off the bed.

She lies still, sated, boneless, and quiet, a soft flush glowing across her cheeks as she basks in the aftermath.

“You’ve changed my life for the better, Laney,” I whisper, looking down at her, memorizing every detail of her face. “If you ever need to feel good… all you have to do is ask.”

And with that, I slip quietly from the room, closing the door behind me.