Page 24 of My Ex’s Dad (Scandalous Billionaires #1)

“I don’t want to hurt him,” I whisper when Granny’s calmed down. “You just explained how complicated the situation is. Warrick is a good man, and he’s been through hell in the past. He didn’t have a good childhood, and things just…spiraled from there, I guess.”

“You can’t let what other people have done decide your life. That’s a sad way to live. If you don’t have a choice, that’s one thing, but you do, Malphie.”

“I don’t know if my heart can stand up to another pummeling either, and seeing Warrick in pain would crack it right in half.

Ugh, when he was sick, I was so worried about him.

I just wanted him to feel better. It’s my brain that’s telling me this is a bad idea because it has already brained up all the options and done all the math, but—”

“Your heart is telling you to s—”

“Granny! Don’t even say it.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes at me. “Well, you know you have my vote. Your parents would also vote yes if he makes you happy and treats you right. None of your exes have done that for you, might I point out.”

“I just don’t know if right now is the right time. I could ruin everything.”

Granny’s not going to let me mope. She’s always so sure about everything. The problem is, it doesn’t matter to her if she’s wrong. She just picks herself up and charges right ahead. Nothing holds her down or back. I suppose that’s also her greatest strength.

“Right now might be the best time, and you’re not going to ruin anything at all.” She wags her finger at the screen. “It’s impossible for you to wound someone. You’re so careful with them, even when they don’t deserve it.”

“I just feel like…like I’m going to go out of my skin if I don’t do something here.”

Going out of my skin is a nice term for the way I’ve been tortured. Or more like consumed by the flames of a needy vagina and piercingly hard nipples. I think even my butt cheeks have been twinging for the love of all things smutty.

“Have you tried moshing out to metal music? That usually tires a body out fast.”

Okay, so Granny may have birthed my whole metal obsession. I have her to blame for most of my good and bad habits. “I listened to it while I was doing housework this morning.”

“That’s your problem then. It just got you good and bothered on top of already being hot and bothered.

If you’re not rocking out with your non-existent appendage out, you’re not getting the full advantage.

” She ignores my facepalm. Literally, I do it, and she can see it.

“You should surprise him. Build him a box fort, make grilled cheese, and eat them in there. Get one of those star projector things and shine it on the roof. You can have a night out under a night sky you can actually see in the city.”

“He’s not five!”

“You said his childhood sucked,” she presses.

“I just assumed he wouldn’t have experienced the true joy of fort-making.

Well then, in that case, you can tie yourself up in a bunch of fancy knots on top of his bed and wait for him to get home and try and free you.

Or leave you tied up. His choice. I’m sure he’ll get the message loud and clear from that. ”

“What on earth have you been reading?”

I seriously hope Irene isn’t still hovering in the background and that no one else is listening to this conversation.

“Something about zillionaire zaddies. I can save it for you so you can read it the next time you’re here. We can discuss it and have our own little raunchy family book club. I can get your mom involved too.”

“Don’t you dare. And you better not be reading anything about zaddies.”

“Irene! Look up the definition of a zaddy!” Granny calls out.

My god, Irene’s still there.

“Stand by. Okay. Almost there. Yes! A zaddy is an attractive, stylish older man,” Irene says.

“Do they have to be older than you to be a zaddy or just old? I need to make me one of those profiles and get online and get my own sugar zaddy. Imagine. Being a sugar baby at my age!” Granny exclaims.

“I’ll help you get there if you share the booty with me!”

Irene’s statement sends her and Granny straight into another fit of cackling while I die a fiery death of granddaughterly embarrassment.

“The actual booty or the spoils?” Granny asks when she can talk again past her laughter.

“Just the plunder, honey. I’ve had enough of looking after other people’s booties for a lifetime.”

“Okay, box forts it is,” I cut in. Things are getting too out of hand. You know it’s bad when you have to reel it back to the topic of getting into a wildly inappropriate relationship.

“If you go down to the moving supply stores, they have huge boxes. Or just order a freezer. That should give you enough cardboard to really play around with. You could get them when he’s gone to work and then construct all day, so when he comes home, he’d have his surprise.

Speaking of which, why are you not jumping his bones right now instead of calling me? ”

“Because I miss you.”

Granny snorts. “That sounds like a load of tosh.”

“I really do miss you, and he already warned me this morning that he was going to be swamped in the mossiest bog of work swamps because he has missed so many days. He told me this morning that he wasn’t avoiding me. He knows we need to talk.”

Granny smacks her lap enthusiastically. I can’t see it, but I can hear it. “Ooh! That sounds wonderfully promising. Does he have any hot brothers?”

“He doesn’t.” Thank fuck.

“He doesn’t as in he legit doesn’t, or you just don’t want to tell me?”

“He legit doesn’t.”

“Hot uncles?”

“I thought the only variety of uncle was a dirty old uncle,” Irene’s disembodied voice comments again.

“I’d take one of those.”

“I don’t know about the uncles.” Patience is a virtue, one I need to cultivate instead of letting the mortification soak into my bones. “And I’m not going to find out.”

“Humph. I’ll just have to live vicariously through you.”

“I was asking for advice on heart stuff, Granny, nothing else.”

“Well, if you’re ever in need of the latter, I have some great books I can recommend. Lordy, they’ll make even the most experienced blush.”

“Ugh, my god.” I have to hide my face in my hands. I can’t even look at Granny right now.

“Truthfully, if he’s attracted to you and you’re attracted to him in all the ways, not just physically, then you should both go for it.

Make each other happy. I know you won’t hurt him.

The backlash might, but the backlash be damned.

People can be cruel all they want. If they’re ignorant over something like that, then they’ve always been horrible, and they’ll always be wretched.

You can’t let them define your happiness.

They’ll get over it. And if they don’t, then they’re missing out.

Just remember that it’s not your job to fix anybody. ”

Fix him? No. Warrick is…I don’t quite have words for what he is, but he’s not in need of fixing or saving.

“Warrick doesn’t need fixing. He needs to start learning how to let joy into his life. He needs to not care what other people think and find the strength to choose a path that’s his own creation. Not something his family wanted, or…or something someone else basically blackmailed him into.”

“Rich people are a sorry state. You’re far too good to get dragged down into that kind of nonsense. And by good, I mean big-hearted.”

The only mess I want is War. I can say it in my head. I. Want. Him. I unequivocally want him in every way.

“I hugged him, Granny, and it seemed like the world was ending for him, in a good way. He’d never been properly, well and truly, goodness to gracious, hugged before.

How on earth am I supposed to stand up against that?

My heart is a total goner, and it’s been like five hot minutes. I’m not talking about love.”

“I know. But to get to that point, you have to step, and you have to fall, and you’re going to have to fight like hell. A little hot box fort smex would relieve a lot of the stress, good and proper.”

Irene pops into the background, grinning widely. This is probably the most entertainment she’s had in a good while.

“I’m hanging up now. Let the record show two point oh that you’re impossible.”

“Impossibly awesome!” At least this time, she tones the cackle into a laugh.

“I love you. Get your tush back here soon and bring that man so he can experience some proper granny hugs. There’s not a lady in this place who wouldn’t hug a man as fine as Warrick.

If he wants grandpa hugs, those can also be arranged. For free. Or rides in his sportscar.”

“Goodbye. I’m pressing the red button. Right now.”

“Don’t forget to give me an update,” Granny chirps.

“Absolutely not. Love you. Bye.”

The conversation might have been wild and wildly inappropriate, but I’m glad I had it.

I might not feel a hundred percent better or the least bit certain, but I did need to hear that I’m not going to a special brand of hell for being interested in my older, charming, intriguing, hot-as-an-incinerator, ex’s dad, boss.

Shit, that’s a lot.

Ex’s dad and boss are too much.

Can I really do this? Do I have any right to?

I can practically hear Granny asking me what right I don’t have. She’d give me the old-timey there’s nothing you can’t do if you put your mind to it pep talk.

My mind is definitely to it . I’ve done nothing but think about Warrick’s soft eyes, his surprise and hope every single time I do something nice for him, how it felt to hug him and be there for him when he needed it, and how his lips felt so deliciously and painfully right against mine.

He was sweet and scared when he kissed me, but the way he charged into the backyard and asked me to stay wasn’t shy in the least.

Just thinking about his lips on mine sends me into a lowkey tailspin that ends with my ovaries aching, my va-jay throbbing, and my nipples trying to go into full-on slasher mode in my tank top.

All of it just brings me back to the same two questions I’ve had playing in my brain on repeat since this morning.

How can I do this?

How can I not?