Callie's POV 

His voice landed on me like a hand pressing against my chest. I hadn't realised how shallow my breathing had become until that single word made my lungs burn.

I swallowed, forcing myself to respond and act as if everything was normal. To act like I wasn't standing in front of the man who had lived far too vividly in my dreams. 

"H... hi," I managed to say after finding my voice and it came out thinner than I intended. 

Beside me, Jenna remained completely unaware of the silent war that was erupting inside my head. 

"Dad, what are you doing home ready? I thought your work trip wasn't ending till after Christmas." 

He turned fully toward us, lowering his phone to his side. For one second, I thought I saw something flicker across his face. First, it was recognition, then something darker. But it was gone as it came, replaced by the calm, unreadable mask I knew too well.

"It got cancelled," he said evenly. "Last minute." 

Jenna groaned. "Ugh, well. At least you're home."

She turned, grabbing my arm excitedly. "Anyway..." she turned to him, grinning, completely oblivious to the way my pulse was trying to claw out of my throat. 

"Callie's staying with us for Christmas. Her parents travelled, and there's no way I was letting her sit alone feeling miserable."

Staying with him. Ohh, no! I could feel my stomach tighten. His gaze flicked back to me. It wasn't soft nor hungry. It felt like he was searching me. 

"That's okay with you?" She asked. 

"Of course," he said after a while. "You're welcome to stay, Callie." His tone was polite, controlled, yet distant. 

Immediately, I nodded. "Thank you." My voice sounded like I had borrowed it. 

Jenna dragged me upstairs before anything else could be said while her energy was bouncing off the walls like it always had. She was chattering about how everything had changed and nothing had changed at the same time. 

The house smelled the same. Warm, clean, with a hint of coffee and wood polish. She showed me to a spare room, close enough to her dad's room and it made my stomach tighten uncomfortably. 

"You'll take this one," she said, tossing my suitcase onto the bed. "I'd let you stay with me, but..." She lowered her voice, grinning. 

"I sneak my boyfriend in. A lot. My father would be mad if he ever found out."

One of my hands covered my mouth as I laughed in silence. I was grateful for the normalcy. Jenna was still being her. 

"You're still reckless," I teased in a low tone. 

"And you're still boring," she shot back. "God, I missed you." 

We talked for a while, about everything and nothing. We talked about her job, my failed relationship. The way life had been cruel to me. 

But as evening settled in I was hyperaware of the house. The sound of Dominic moving around downstairs. The low murmur of his voice on a call and the way the house seemed smaller than it used to be. 

So I stayed in my room. Scrolling, unpacking and staring at the ceiling. I wanted to do anything but think about how close he was. 

After midnight, my throat was dry and burning. I'd been thirty for a while, but didn't leave because I heard his movements around the house. 

Forcing myself out of bed, I left my room. The hallway was dim and quiet, and I could hear my own footsteps. Pulling Jenna's oversized hoodie tighter around myself, I padded into the kitchen. 

I had just poured myself a glass of water when the light suddenly went off. 

"Oh, come on," I whispered. 

I stood smothered, blinking into the sudden darkness, and listening to the faint hum of the house. I had just found my way to the counter when I heard footsteps behind me. 

The moment I turned, I walked straight into a solid chest. A terrified gasp left my throat as I yelped and water sloshed everywhere. The glass slipped from my hand shattering against the floor. 

"Oh shit," a voice said at the same time as mine. 

Dominic. His hands came up instinctively, steadying me by my arms. 

Immediately, I felt heat bloom through the thin fabric of the hoodie where he touched me. 

"I didn't know anyone was in here," he said quickly. "The power tripped. I came to check it."

"It's... It's fine," I said, stuttering, though my heart was pounding violently. "I was just getting water."

"Careful," he said softly. "There's glass." 

He retrieved his hand from my arm, letting go of me just as fast as he'd touched me, then he stepped back. The absence of his warmth felt louder than the contact itself. 

"I'll clean it," I added too quickly and my voice wavered as I gestured to the broken glass.  

"I've got it." He countered, reaching for a towel. "Don't move. You'll get yourself hurt." 

I stood there and watched him crouch, bare feet on the cold tile. Even in the low light, I could see the muscles on his shoulders flex as he moved. For some unknown reason, it made my chest ache.

Just like that, the silence between us became so tight and without thinking my mouth opened. 

"I can help." The words fell out of my mouth before I could swallow them. 

He paused his action and glanced up. "You're sure?"

I nodded, holding up my phone. "Torch."

Our fingers brushed as he reached out for it. The moment his fingers brushed mine, the world narrowed.

It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't deliberate. 

It felt like my body recognised him before my mind could catch up. A sharp inhale caught in my chest.

I hadn't realised how tense I was until that single touch loosened something deep inside me, something I'd spent years locking away. 

My pulse thudded loudly in my ears, and suddenly I was painfully aware of how close he was. Too close. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his skin.

His hand stilled around my phone. For a second, neither of us moved.

The torchlight trembled slightly in my grip, casting shadows over his bare chest, over the familiar lines of him I knew too well. Lines my dreams had memorised with cruel accuracy.

"Callie," he said quietly.

There was restraint in his voice. Like he was careful, and standing on the edge of something and choosing not to step forward.

That was what broke me. I pulled my hand back as if I'd been burned. 

"I.. I think I should go."

My voice didn't sound like mine.

He straightened slowly, giving me space, but his eyes didn't leave my face. 

"You don't have to," he said, softer now. "It was an accident."

"I do," I interrupted, shaking my head. If I stayed one more second, I knew I'd do something reckless. Something honest. 

"I'll... clean up. You can... You can finish." The words barely made sense, but I turned anyway, fleeing before he could say anything else.

I could feel his gaze on my back as I walked away. Heavy. Unavoidable.

When I reached my room and closed the door behind me, my legs finally gave out. I leaned against the wood, pressing a hand to my chest as I struggled to breathe.

That touch, that single, accidental touch, had done more damage than all my dreams combined.

And I knew, with sinking certainty, that Dominic had felt it too.

Callie's POV 

I jerked upright, lungs heaving, my heart was racing heavy and suffocating. My heart slammed so hard against my ribs it felt like it might crack something open. 

For a moment, I didn't know where I was, only that my body felt overheated, restless, like it had been running from something it hadn't escaped.

I pressed my palm to my chest, breathing through it.

Not again. The dream slipped away the moment I tried to hold it, leaving behind only sensations of heat, closeness, the echo of a voice saying my name like it was something precious.

I squeezed my eyes shut, groaning softly. I hadn't slept until almost dawn. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind dragged me back to the kitchen. The darkness. The broken glass. His hand brushing mine like it wasn't an accident.

"Dominic," I muttered under my breath.

I stared at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the house waking up around me. Doors were opening downstairs. Footsteps echoing around the house. Of course, he was awake.

I lay there longer than necessary, debating whether hunger outweighed the dread that had settled deep in my stomach. 

Just then, my stomach answered for me with an irritated growl.

"Traitor," I muttered, throwing the blanket off.

I showered quickly, avoiding my reflection longer than usual. When I finally caught sight of myself, I barely recognised the girl staring back. 

Tired eyes with slight shadows beneath them. A woman who looked like she'd slept badly and thought too much.

I pulled on jeans and a leather sweater, it was snowing heavily outside. I inhaled slowly, trying to steady my breath, and went downstairs.

The smell of coffee hit me first. Then laughter, with Jenna's loud and unfiltered voice.

"...and then he dared to ask if I was 'emotionally available,'" she was saying. "Sir, you forgot my birthday twice."

I stepped into the kitchen just as Dominic slid a plate onto the counter. My steps faltered. He'd made pancakes. 

He stood at the gas cooker, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair was slightly messy, like he'd run a hand through it too many times. He looked... normal and domestic. 

But my heart flipped, disagreeing. 

"Morning," Jenna chirped when she saw me. "You look like you fought sleep and lost."

"Accurate," I replied, my voice dry. 

Then he turned, his eyes met mine for a fraction of a second too long. And I felt the previously unknown connection pass through both of us. 

His jaw tightened almost unnoticeably before he looked away.

"Good morning, Callie," he greeted, his tone soft and careful.

"Morning," I replied, hoping my voice didn't betray me.

Jenna slid into the seat beside me. "Dad decided to play the domestic hero today. I didn't even know he knew where the flour was."

"I've lived here for years," he said, deadpan.

"Emotionally, though?" she teased.

I snorted before I could stop myself. And both of them looked at me. Heat rushed to my cheeks. 

"Sorry. That just... came out."

Dominic's mouth twitched. Just barely. It was worse than a smile.

Breakfast was surprisingly normal. Jenna talked. A lot about work. About her boyfriend. About how Callie from high school would never believe she voluntarily woke up before ten.

"I blame adulthood," she said, stabbing her pancake. "It's a scam."

Dominic poured coffee into my mug without asking.

Of course, I noticed.

"Thanks," I said softly.

"You're welcome."

Our fingers didn't touch. I was aware of the space between us, as if it were charged.

At some point, Jenna's phone buzzed. 

"Ugh, I have to take this. If it's my boss, I'm quitting."

She hopped up, groaning, and disappeared down the hallway, still muttering.

Silence dropped into the kitchen like a held breath.

But I focused on my plate.

"So," I said, because silence felt heavier. "The power last night..."

"Yes," Dominic replied quickly. "I fixed it. Old wiring. It should be fine now."

"Good," I nodded. "Sorry about the... glass."

"Don't apologise." He paused. "You weren't hurt?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head.

Then there was another pause. 

"Good."

I decided to risk a glance up. And he was watching me now, openly, like he'd decided pretending wasn't working. His expression wasn't soft, but it wasn't cold either. It was something restrained and controlled.

"About last night," he said quietly. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

The word landed heavier than it should have. Uncomfortable?

"No," I said too fast. Taking a deep breath, I slowed. "I mean, no. It was just... unexpected."

His eyes searched my face like he was trying to study the lines on my face.

"You're okay, right?" He asked. 

The question almost undid me. "I'm fine," I lied.

He nodded once, like he accepted the answer even if he didn't believe it.

Jenna returned moments later, mercifully loud. "False alarm. Crisis postponed."

The rest of the morning passed in fragments. I helped Jenna clear the table. Dominic retreated to his home office. 

Around noon, a soft curse echoed from the hallway.

Jenna poked her head out of the living room. 

"Dad?"

"The hallway light's acting up again," Dominic said. "It's flickering."

"Old house problem," Jenna added, rolling her eyes. She turned to me. "Callie, you good if I disappear for a bit? I'm meeting Sam."

"Yeah, I'll be," I said quickly. "You can go."

She grinned. "Don't miss you too much."

When the door closed behind her, the house felt quieter than before. Dominic stood at the base of the stairs, toolbox in hand. 

"I should fix it before it gets dark."

"I can help," I blurted out, before thinking.

He looked surprised. Then his expression turned thoughtful. "All right," he said. "Hold the light?"

We stood in the narrow hallway, closer than necessary. I held my phone up while he adjusted the switch plate, his arm brushing the wall beside my head.

I could smell him. He smelt of soap, coffee with an edge of woodsy scent.

My pulse skidded.

"Is this okay?" he asked, glancing back. He was talking about the light while I thought he was referring to our closeness. 

"Yeah." 

The light flickered once, then steadied.

"There," he said softly. "That should..." His elbow bumped mine as he stepped back.

My breath stopped. His hand lifted instinctively, hovering near my waist before he stopped himself like he'd hit an invisible wall.

Then he leaned closer. Not too close enough to touch. Just enough that I felt him everywhere.

His warm, undeniable presence filled the space between us.  

I could feel my heartbeat in my throat, my chest, my fingertips. 

Suddenly, the hallway felt too small and quiet, like the world had narrowed down to the inch separating us. My breath hitched.

I didn't know who moved first. Or if anyone did at all. I only knew that it felt inevitable. Like something that had been waiting patiently for years had finally decided to surface.

I tilted my chin up, my lips parted without permission. And then I closed my eyes. For one reckless, hopeful second, I let myself believe he was going to kiss me.

When I opened them, he was staring at me. He wasn't angry or shocked. He was just looking at me. I saw it in his eyes, everything I wasn't supposed to want.

Dominic's POV

I woke up already tired. Not the physical kind. The kind that settled into your bones when sleep refused to come because your mind wouldn't shut up. 

I lay staring at the ceiling, replaying moments I shouldn't have remembered so clearly. The hallway. Her breath hitching. Her eyes had closed like she trusted me with something I had no right to take.

Sitting up, I dragged a hand down my face. Her being here was a mistake. Me letting it happen.

Callie Morgan had walked back into my house like she'd never left, and somehow, the control, discipline and distance I'd spent years rebuilding had started to crack quietly. 

I dressed quickly and went downstairs, then I heard soft, familiar laughter. Slowing to a stop, I paused at the foot of the stairs, unseen, watching her in the kitchen with Jenna. 

Callie had her hair tied loosely, sleeves pushed up as she leaned against the counter, listening in the way she always had. 

My daughter was animated as usual, waving her hands, exaggerating a story, and she was laughing. Unguarded, her head was tilted back slightly, with her shoulders loose. 

Jenna has always been responsible for that laughter. 

"...and then he said, 'Maybe we should take a break,'" Jenna finished, rolling her eyes. "Like he was doing me a favour."

"Brave man." Callie snorted, amidst laughter. 

For a second, I simply watched them. I felt unsettled seeing how natural she looked in my house.

"Dad," Jenna said, spotting me. "You're hovering again."

"I live here," I replied dryly.

Callie turned toward me, and I noticed her expression turn tight. The soft smile on her face had vanished. Our eyes met. I could have sworn I saw her eyes flicker with disappointment but they blinked and were replaced with her usual gaze.

"Morning." She greeted me. I replied with a nod. 

Then I broke eye contact first. For some unknown reason, I couldn't talk to her. The disappointed look was stuck in my head. And I went about my day wondering why. 

Not too long after, Jenna stepped out of her room, her phone in hand, keys already jingling.

"I'm meeting Sam," she announced. "I'll be back later."

My eyebrows met, she's been going out a lot lately. 

"You've been going out a lot."

"Dad," she whined, grabbing my arm. "It's just growth and independence. Besides, my love life isn't as boring as Callie's." 

Callie, who had just stepped out of her room, gave a playful gasp and they laughed. 

"Text me when you arrive."

"I will," she said, already halfway out the door. "Try not to bore Callie with your boring talks while I'm gone." Then the door shut behind her.

Thick silence settled in. I turned toward Callie. She was standing by the window now, watching the snow drift down, arms folded loosely around herself.

Then her eyes moved toward me, darting around but hesitant. 

"I want to grab a box in the storage room behind the house, and I need help with it." She paused, finally focusing her gaze on me. 

"I'm not quite tall, your height is just what I need to grab the box." She added.

I felt my lips twitch in a small smirk. All the long talk for just asking for a little help. Hmm, she's still too polite. 

"If that's all, then lead the way," I replied to her.

The walk to the back of the house had passed in a haze because I was lost in my thoughts. Callie's voice brought me back to reality. 

"Here we are," she said, her tone sounding unsure. 

The cold Christmas air bit into my skin as I walked ahead of her into the storage room. I noticed the cold bumps covering her skin as she shivered. 

"Cold?" I asked. 

"A little," she said in a low tone. "I guess I had no idea how cold it was out here." She wrapped her arms around herself. 

Her top was thin and the fabric hugged her when she moved. My gaze dropped before I could stop it. The cold had made her nipples visibly hard beneath the light material. 

Her cleavage was fair and full. And her breasts were bigger than before she left. I looked away immediately wondering why I hadn't noticed it since she arrived. 

Because she's always in sweaters. 

"There," she said, pointing to the dusty shelves. "Third shelf."

I reached over her shoulder, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her back through my shirt.  That was when her scent hit me then. It was clean, soft, with a floral fragrance underneath.

I inhaled sharply while I grabbed the box. But then I almost stumbled and she turned sharply and shifted back.  So I bumped into her and her back hit the shelf. 

I could feel her soft breasts pressing hard on my almost bare chest. The warmth from her spread quickly through my skin and I felt an energy move between us.  

She looked up at me with her hazel eyes. Neither of us moved away. My eyes left hers and slowly trailed down to her lips. 

And they were nothing but seductive. At that moment, all the restraints I've ever built vanished into the snow outside. 

Lowering my head, I placed my lips on hers softly. Kissing her before my conscience tugged at me. 

Gosh, her lips are still soft and full. Just like the first time I'd placed my lips on hers. 

She parted her lips and a quiet moan escaped her and went straight through me. Immediately, I pulled back before the kiss could deepen. 

She looked at me with longing and confusion. 

"It was a mistake," I said, but my voice sounded like I had lied. 

I stepped back, creating space between us. "I shouldn't have done that." 

My eyes landed on her seductive lips that were parted to say something. I quickly handed her the box and turned away before I kissed her again. 

As I sat on my bed, the kiss replayed in my head. The way she'd kissed me back without hesitation. How my body had responded despite every rule I'd set for myself. 

Staring down, I looked at the huge bulge that had formed between my legs. It was hard from one kiss. I got up, pacing around the room, my heart racing faster than before. 

I was frustrated and angry at myself for wanting her. Grabbing my phone, I typed the message before I could think too hard.

'Are you free this afternoon?' 

I set back my phone when the message was sent.

I had crossed a line. And I wasn't sure which part of me was more afraid. The one who wanted to take it back

or the one that didn't.