Since that first day, when she walked into chaos and made it manageable. Since she started calling me Ty instead of West. Since I realized the house only feels like home when she's in it.
Our lips are a breath apart.
Half an inch.
Less.
The baby monitor crackles loudly on the counter, and Harper's cry pierces through the kitchen.
We jump apart like we've been burned.
Nora's pressed against the counter, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and dark. I'm gripping the edge of the sink hard enough that my knuckles are white, my heart hammering so loud I can hear it in my ears.
"I'll get her," Nora says, her voice shaky.
"No, I've got her. You should—" I gesture vaguely. "You should sleep."
She nods and practically runs from the kitchen, and I'm left standing here staring at the soapy water, trying to catch my breath.
What the fuck just happened?
We almost kissed.
If Harper hadn't woken up at that exact moment, I would have kissed my daughter's nanny in my kitchen at midnight after a week of missing her so much it physically hurt.
I head upstairs on autopilot, going straight to the nursery where Harper's fussing in her crib. She's not fully awake, just uncomfortable, and I pick her up carefully.
"Hey, baby girl," I murmur, settling into the glider chair with her against my chest. "Daddy's home. I'm home now."
She settles immediately, her little fist curling into my shirt, and I just sit here in the dark nursery holding my daughter and trying to process what almost happened downstairs.
I wanted to kiss Nora.
Desperately.More than I've wanted anything in a long time.
And she wanted it too. I could see it in her eyes and feel it in the way she leaned in, the way her breath caught when I touched her hip.
But she works for me. She lives in my house. She takes care of my daughter. There are boundaries here that shouldn't be crossed, lines that exist for good reasons.
Even if crossing them feels less like a transgression and more like gravity.
Harper falls back asleep against my chest, her breathing evening out, but I don't move. I just sit here in the dark, replaying the pulse jumping in her throat. The way she saidI know,like it cost her something. How close her mouth was to mine,
She feels it. Whatever this thing is between us, she feels it too.
And that's terrifying.
Because I don't know what to do with these feelings, I don't know how to navigate my desire for someone who's supposed to be off-limits. I don't know how to look at her tomorrow morning without remembering how close we came to kissing, how badly I wanted to close that final distance.
I finally put Harper back in her crib around one in the morning and head to my room. My shoulder's still aching from Reaper's hit, and my body's exhausted from a week of travel and hockey, but my mind won't shut off.
All I can think about is how close we were.
How close we came to changing everything.
And how much I wish that baby monitor hadn't crackled when it did.
I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the house settle around me. Across the hall, I can hear Nora moving around in her room, and I wonder if she's lying awake too, thinking about the same thing.