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She settled back, curled up with her side against my chest. “Do you want some ice cream?”
I shook my head.
She put the spoon in her mouth, flipping it upside down to curl her tongue around it. Getting every bit of chocolate.
“Have you ever sat in anyone’s lap before?” I asked carefully.
Her eyes darted to mine and dropped down.
“No.”
“Not even your father’s when you were little?”
She shook her head, eyes still locked on her bowl. “He wasn’t really like that. We never hugged or anything either.”
There was a bit of chocolate on the corner of her mouth. I brushed it off with my thumb and she flushed. Pink stained her neck and cheeks.
“Has anyone ever told you they loved you?”
“Like…romantically?”
“No, I mean in any way.”
She thought about it for a second, putting the spoon back in her mouth. When she released it, it made a little pop.
“Candice and her parents,” she said. “Owen and Catrin told me they loved me a lot. And of course Candice does all the time.”
“But not your father?”
She laughed shortly. “My father would have curled up and died before he said he loved me. We just weren’t that kind of household. It’s no wonder my mom got out when she had the chance.”
That caught me off guard. She never talked about her mother, probably because she had so few memories of her. I kept quiet, giving her space to continue if she felt like it.
Apparently she didn’t because she shrugged and put more ice cream in her mouth.
“Anyway,” she said, swallowing hard. “It doesn’t matter.”
I traced down her spine until I got to her bare lower back. She slowed and I felt her breathing speed up a little. I swirled my fingertip over the little dimples above her ass.
“So this is the first time you’ve ever sat on anyone’s lap?”
She nodded.
“How is it?”
Her eyes went distant and she snuggled closer to my chest. “It’s nice. You feel warm…strong. Safe.”
“You’re always safe now.”
She nodded once and I felt her pull into her shell. Dismissing all of the hurt I knew lay beneath her surface. Upstairs, the grandfather clock chimed two in the morning.
She sat aside her empty bowl and laid her head on my shoulder. I let my arm slide around her body, holding her against me. Stroking through her damp hair.
Her breathing deepened and her body went limp.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CLARA
