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Summary
“You’re far from worthless…’ His voice had dropped.
“You’re everything to them, Amber.” Turning to him, she placed both of her hands on his cheeks, leaning back into his space.
He pressed against the palms cradling him, they smelled like her perfume. Something sweet... tangy, like honey or fig. It made his mouth water.
“And to you, Father?” His lungs squeezed, heart fluttering uncontrollably between his ribs.
She was a river, coursing through his veins. Water nourishing his heat scorched earth, bringing back life to his roots. Ones that had almost shriveled up into dust from drought that threatened to consume him.
But he would not drink.
“A really good friend.”
(ya'll I'm rusty so pls forgive my frantic need for this man)
Series
- Part 2 of Benoit Blanc's Daughter