And still… Cammy didn't move.
Her body was rooted in place, caught between fear and something much deeper—longing, perhaps. A dangerous longing she didn't want to admit. A part of her was screaming to pull away, to stop this before it crossed a line. But another part of her… the part that had been aching for comfort, for warmth, for someone to see her fully—that part didn't want to move at all.
Ric stopped, lips barely a hair's breadth from hers. His breath mingled with hers.
"I mean it, Cammy," he whispered. "No more tears. Not when I'm here."
The door clicked open somewhere down the hallway.
"Miss Cammy?" the nanny called out. "Dylan said he left his phone in your bag."
Cammy jolted slightly, stepping back. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her eyes dropped to the floor, her hand still tingling where Ric had touched her face.
Ric sighed quietly, turning his head toward the hallway, the moment shattered—but not erased.
