Daddy Dearest

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ben

She has something to tell me. My arms drop to my sides. I shouldn’t be touching her so much. I shouldn’t have closed the door. I shouldn’t have invited her in. But she’s here now, just inches away from me… and my God, my hands are shaking.

I want to pull her onto my lap and bury my face in her neck. What kind of man am I that I can barely control myself around this beautiful child? I’d wondered if it were some kind of sickness, if maybe I liked young girls. But I don’t.

It’s just this girl. This one girl. Not yet eighteen. Not for another two months. I cannot touch her. Not only because of the moral code I strictly adhere to, but because of existing laws.

Melody is below the age of consent.

“Ben,” she says in that sweet, lilting voice of hers that brings to mind wind-chimes dancing in the breeze. “I need to tell you something.”

I avoid her gaze because I’m afraid that all would be lost if I look into her eyes. I wouldn’t be able to control myself anymore. I’m already tempting fate by just having her within the confines of my office, and the door closed. There’s only so much a sane man could take.

She puts her hands on my knees and leans in. “Ben, this is important. Please, look at me.”

I shove my hands into my hair and explode from the chair I’m sitting in, almost toppling her over with my violent reaction. “Miss Plum, whatever it is you’re about to say, I beg you for both of our sakes: don’t.”

She gasps and covers her mouth, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, I made a mistake, Mr. Davenport. Please forgive me. I need to go now.” She grabs her sad sunny-side-up backpack from the ground and bolts out of her chair to head for the door.

Before she can pull the door open, I’m by her side in seconds, slapping my palm on the wood above her head, cutting off her means of escape and my last chance at salvation.

“Sit down, Melody.”

She clutches her backpack to her chest and sneaks past me to return to her previous seat, making sure no part of her body touches mine. She curls protectively around her bag, as though it were a plush animal that gives her comfort.

Even as I fall to my knees in front of her, I call myself a monster, the worst of men. I place my hands on the armrests of her chair, beseeching her with my eyes.

She removes her bag from her lap and drops it on the ground before opening her arms to me, utterly without fear. “Ben.”

I shake my head, refusing to believe what’s happening even as the scene unfolds before my eyes. “Melody, this is wrong. We shouldn’t be feeling like this.”

She cups my face, her hands smooth and cool on my heated skin, and scoots forward in her seat. “But we do. I’ve always loved you, Ben. I can’t remember a time in my life that I wasn’t in love with you.” She kisses my eyebrows, one and then the other. She presses her cheek against mine before slipping her arms around my neck. She kisses my temple.

With the last of my decency, I untangle myself from her embrace and push her back against her chair. “No, Melody. I’m a married man, and for God’s sake, I’m old enough to be your father.”

Her big brown eyes show me her heartbreak before she drops her face in her hands and sobs. “I know all that, Ben. But I can’t help it. It’s not fair. Why can’t we be together?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” All worries of self-preservation dissipate at that moment, and I draw her into my arms. “Melody, my dear girl.” I bury my face in her fragrant hair and inhale deeply. “We can’t do this. You understand, don’t you?” I find myself repeating what Merry once said to me: “Perhaps in another lifetime...”