He brushes the wipe over my cheeks one last time, his fingers lingering before he reaches forward and tucks a stray curl behind my ear. The gesture sends a delicious shiver down my spine, and I suck in a tiny gasp. Peter’s gaze jumps to mine, and I know, instinctively, that he heard the gasp and knows it was his touch that pulled it out of me. “Done,” he says, his voice low.
