Parental Guardian Angel

Daniel drops off that package and hears an angry voice booming inside Carrie's house. The guy sounds dangerous, but before he can say a word she forces a nervous smile and slams the door in his face. Every delivery after that feels heavier because Daniel keeps picking up the signs—an angry yell here, a bruise there, Carrie lying through her teeth that everything is fine. Finally he snaps, swaps some vitamins out, and tells her they’re only for the old man. Two years later he’s hitched to the widow, officially playing new dad, yet every time Carrie’s carefree laugh echoes through the house, his gut still twists. Then she admits out loud how good life has been without her father and how much she wishes she could thank whoever made it happen. The words tumble out before he can stop them. Carrie’s eyes light up instead of turning cold, lust replacing innocence when she realizes Daniel killed for her. She pushes, knowing damn well he didn’t do it just to be noble, and the second her hand slides up his chest they’re both swallowing that they’ve been circling the same hot, guilty itch for years. She tells him there’s only one way to know for sure, and for once he doesn’t argue.