7
CHRISTOPHER
Touching her made things stir in me that hadn’t rustled in years. My hand lingered, fingers barely touching her chin, as sparks radiated throughout my body.
“Good, Emma. I think we’ll work well together.” The urge to draw her lips to mine had me pulling my hand away as if burned.
I’d never been so tempted in my life. Her golden-brown hair, pulled back into a sophomoric ponytail and tied with a blue satin ribbon, looked ridiculous on a girl her age. I yearned to pull it out to let her hair fall down her back. I imagined she’d have beautiful loose waves when it was unrestrained.
Her dark green eyes looked like translucent pools on a forest floor. I could drown a happy man in those pools.
What am I thinking?
Not only was she my friend’s beloved daughter, but a girl younge
