What Love Sounds Like by Alissa Callen Page A

thick-lashed gaze remained on him, waiting for his verdict.
    For the first time in days he was able to focus. Focus on the shards of gold in her brown irises, the curve of her smile and the faded freckles across her nose. Longing coursed through him. It was Mia he wanted to taste. Not gelato. It was her own sweetness he wanted to savour.
    He knew the instant his yearnings showed on his face. Her eyes widened and she sat back on the stool.
    ‘Sorry, that was really unprofessional of me. I’m so used to being around children, I often forget when I’m with adults. You don’t need me to spoon-feed you.’
    ’There’s no need to apologise.’ Even to his own ears his voice sounded hoarse. ‘It’s been a long time since anyone has waved a spoon in my direction. I was always expected to feed myself.’ The scrape of his stool sounded as he stood. ‘One of my earliest memories is remaining at the dining room table until I could master picking up a pea up with a fork.’
    He reached into the top of the nearby wall cupboard to extract a black, velvet box. He flipped the box open and laid it on the bench. Moonlight streaming in through the window glinted on the tiny set of silver, monogrammed cutlery. She lifted out the small spoon and turned it toward the window to make out the letters.
    ‘K. R. X. R.?’
    ‘Kade Richmond Xavier Reid. The Second. For as long as I can remember I’ve been a mini version of my father.’ He removed the fork from its silk-lined bed and turned it round in his fingers. ‘The first thing my grandmother did when I came to stay was put these in the cupboard and they’ve sat there ever since. I still remember the shock, the guilt, but food never tasted so good as when it was licked off your fingers.’
    He laid the fork in the case. ‘Needless to say my father didn’t share my enthusiasm.’
    Mia stared at the tiny spoon that weighed so heavy even in her adult hand. Her heart ached for the child whose small fingers had struggled to wield such a utensil and who had been punished when he couldn’t. She looked at the now grown man who appeared to have never known anything but an adult world. A man capable of apologising. A man she’d just fed gelato to.
    Fresh warmth scorched her cheeks. Lulled by Kade’s laughter and the room’s intimate lighting, her defences had lapsed. Without thought she’d offered him a taste of her pink flavour as if he were no different to the children she worked with. Then her gaze had slid to the masculine beauty of his mouth and a reality, far colder than the frozen gelato, had slapped sense into her.
    Kade was no child.
    She placed the spoon into the case with unsteady fingers. ‘Your grandmother was a very wise woman.’
    ‘Yes. She was.’ He closed the velvet box but didn’t move to return the cutlery-set to the cupboard. His lips twisted. ‘For an insane second I thought if I brought Tilly out here some memory of my grandmother’s wisdom would help me.’
    Mia had to get out of the kitchen. She had to gather her common sense that lay forgotten on her bedside table alongside her reading glasses. But she couldn’t move. The pain roughening his voice held her still.
    ‘You did the right thing. Tilly loves being here. ‘
    ‘Did I? Then why hasn’t being her guardian become any easier?’
    ‘Becoming an instant father isn’t easy. It takes time for change and the filling of any new role to feel comfortable.’
    He laughed. But it wasn’t a jovial sound. ‘It’s been five weeks.’
    She curled her fingers against the urge to touch his hollowed cheek and offer him comfort. ‘It might take five months, or even longer. But it will get easier.’
    ‘So the sweaty palms and anxiety will pass?’
    Surprise stole her reply. He could only be joking.
    His bleak and tortured eyes met hers. He wasn’t.
    Her nails dug into her skin. ‘They will. Just be patient.’
    ‘Patience isn’t one of my virtues.’
    ‘But perseverance is. Just don’t give up on making