Don't Duck Out

Claire slammed her bedroom door hard enough to shake the hallway walls and stormed downstairs barefoot, fury radiating off her in waves.

Daniel looked up immediately.

He had just hung up his wet coat and hadn’t even taken off his shoes yet.

“You did it again.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Did what?”

“You scared off another guy I was seeing.”

“Who?”

“Tyler.” She shoved her phone toward him, the long string of unanswered messages saying enough on its own.

Daniel frowned faintly. “Him? I didn’t do anything to him. Actually, I invited him into the living room for a whiskey last night. We just talked.”

Claire let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. Real casually.”

Daniel’s expression tightened.

“You told him he’d better be serious if he dated me,” she continued. “And that if he hurt me, you’d make sure he regretted it. Is that your version of casual?”

He shook his head once, already looking tired. “I just want what’s best for you.”

Claire threw both hands into the air in disbelief.

“Do you even hear yourself when you talk? This is insane.”

Something dark moved across Daniel’s face.

Good.

Claire was angry enough that she wanted him angry too.

“Watch your mouth, young lady.” His voice came out strained.

“Or what?”

The words left sharply enough that a fine spray of spit hit his shirt.

“Or I will—”

The answer came immediately. Too fast to be controlled.

The unfinished threat hung heavily between them like a warning sign neither of them intended to obey.

Silence spread through the room.

Daniel moved first, rubbing a tired hand over his face.

“I’m too exhausted to fight with you tonight.”

Claire stepped closer instead.

“No. Don’t duck out.” Her voice lowered. “We’re settling this now. You still treat me like I’m a little girl.”

“No,” Daniel said quietly. “You aren’t.”

Claire stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re not a little girl anymore.”

Something inside his voice shifted on the last words. Something halfway between grief and confession.

Claire looked at him differently then. Really looked at him. Her pulse accelerated violently as realization hit her all at once.

He really saw her as a woman.

Not a girl. Not a daughter. And like any man, he couldn’t stand the thought of sharing her with someone else.

“All this time,” she breathed, almost to herself, “I thought you barely saw me at all.”

Daniel swallowed hard. Yes, he had often deliberately avoided looking at Claire. Not because she wasn’t important to him. But because he loved Elise, his wife, and didn’t want to lose her.

Claire stepped into him, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him closer.

She smelled fresh sweat on him beneath the clean scent of aftershave and the strange odor of rain clinging to his damp hair.

Her face moved closer.

Closer.

Until he could feel her breath against his lips.

“Tell me,” she whispered. “Do you want me?”

Daniel’s eyes widened instantly, all color draining from his face.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?”

The words exploded out of him.

Raw.

Uncontrolled.

Claire’s heart hammered painfully against her ribs.

“Then tell me it isn’t true.”

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them looked away.

And then Daniel kissed her.

Impulsive.

****.

Like he had to do it before his own conscience could stop him.

Claire made a startled sound against his mouth before kissing him back immediately.

Weeks of tension detonated in a single instant.

Daniel’s hand slid around her waist and pulled her against him before he even seemed aware of doing it. The collision of guilt and desire made everything feel sharper.

Dangerous.

He pushed her back against the wall hard enough to make her breath catch, his own breathing already uneven. Claire tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer, and that tiny act nearly destroyed whatever control he had left.

He kissed her again like he couldn’t stop. Like stopping would hurt worse.

The room blurred around them.

Claire tore impatiently at his shirt, nearly ripping buttons loose in the process.

Together they stumbled toward the living room.

Claire fell backward onto the sofa, trying to pull him down with her.

But Daniel tore himself out of her grip at the last second.

Deep lines carved into his face now. His chest rose unevenly. There was something almost shattered in his expression as he looked down at her.

“We can’t do this.”

His voice sounded raw enough to bleed.

The problem was—

—neither of them believed him anymore.