Page 37 of No Knight (My Kind of Hero #3)

“Turn off your skeptic’s radar for just a minute and listen to what I have to say. Please.”

She gives a lift of her shoulder. A tiny if I must . But I sense her discomfort. Feel her stubbornness creeping in.

“We didn’t plan this. I know the timing is rough. I mean, Monday? But you didn’t come all this way to just end up going back, did you?”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” she murmurs, gathering her hair to pull it over her shoulder.

“But you like it here? In London, I mean.”

“Yeah. I was just beginning to find my feet.”

“So stay. Stay for you.”

“Matt . . .”

“Okay, stay for me. Stay and let me be part of this experience. I don’t want to miss out, Ryan.”

“You really mean that?”

“This is how much I mean it. Move in with me.”

“What? No!” She almost recoils, but for the back of the stool. “We barely know each other.”

“Isn’t that a reason you should, then? We’re gonna be parents, and we barely know a thing about each other. How can we raise a child on that basis?”

“I just ...” She looks so small right now. I mean, she is small, but her presence, her fucking aura, should be as apparent as the Burj Al Arab. But I suppose she’s had a rough few days. The stuff she’s gone through must’ve felt like a colossal head fuck.

But still ... back to me and my role in this.

“I want to be part of this kid’s life.”

“I hear you.”

“I just don’t think it’s right for him to come into the world and learn his parents didn’t really know each other.”

“I don’t want that. I don’t want her to think she’s a mistake.” Her eyes are so solemn, her next words so quiet, I’m sure they aren’t meant for my ears. “Or the regret of her mother’s life.”

My heart instantly aches for her. “Hey.” I touch her shoulder, like we’re mates.

“How to Mess Up Your Kid’s World 101, right?” She shoots me a sad smile as she reaches for her glass. That way she doesn’t have to be responsible for moving my hand.

“No child deserves that.” And she didn’t deserve you. “And our child isn’t a mistake.”

“No, I don’t think so either.”

“A blessing.”

“Right,” she whispers.

A blessing in disguise. I clear my throat, but it’s not so easy to clear the emotion.

“We need to know about each other—to learn about each other—so when birthdays roll around and he asks us what kinds of things the other likes, we can tell him what his mother’s favorite investment strategy is and name the name of his father’s favorite rugby team. ”

“Okay,” she says, a little bemused.

“That way we get a decent birthday present and not any old shit.”

A laugh jumps out of her before she presses her hand to her cheek. “This is madness, though. Isn’t it?”

“It’s just building a foundation, a solid one. With stories and experiences to reflect upon. It’s not like we’ll be on top of each other.” At least, not immediately. “I haven’t shown you round the place yet, but you can see the house is huge.”

“Matt, come on. Be reasonable. You can’t expect me to do this.”

“Yeah, I can. It’s not like I’m asking for a huge commitment or anything.” Again, not immediately. “I just want to be part of this—and I want to be with you through this. Shoulder the responsibility in all the ways that I can.”

With a sigh, she slides her gaze to the gray, cold garden. So I pull out my trump card.

“The house has a self-contained apartment. You could stay there.” Though I’d rather you stay in my bed. “You could work. Or not. And we could hang out, get to know each other. After all, we’ve a lifetime to be together.”

“A lifetime?” Her gaze slides back slowly, her expression unreadable.

“Our child’s life,” I answer quickly.

Fatherhood. It’s something I always assumed I’d get to experience, though the details were hazy beyond that fact.

I suppose even after Ryan told me, I don’t think I took it all in.

It didn’t truly become real until I heard our child’s heartbeat.

Everything changed then because there was power in that sound, something ancient and inevitable pulling at me.

Probably the weight of responsibility, but the sense of it felt—feels—so right.

“Last night, I spent a long time staring at that grainy image.” The ultrasound. “I had a glass of whiskey in one hand and all this ... feeling inside me.”

“It’s a lot, I know.”

“I wasn’t overwhelmed, unless there’s such a thing as a surfeit of happiness.

I was feckin’ swimming in the stuff.” I give my head a tiny shake at the admission.

“But then I thought about you not being here. Me not being with you. With both of you. I came to a decision. And that’s if you can’t be here, then I’ll need to be there.

” And I mean that. I don’t know how it’ll work, except that it’ll be a lot of fucking work.

A lot of travel—a home in one country and a business in another—but I’ll do it if I have to because I want this.

“There? You mean in New York?”

“I know we’re not together, but I’ll do what it takes to be part of this. I’ll need a while to sort everything out, but if you’re leaving Monday, then expect me to follow.”

Unless Fin and Oliver kill me first.

“I won’t be able to offer you anywhere to stay,” she says with a watery laugh. “I haven’t even found a place for myself yet.”

“Do you want to go back?”

Her pause. That’s my answer.

“So stay. With me. Until ...” Something in her expression says I’ve gone as far as I can with that. “Until whatever. Just give me this time. We can sort the logistics of later out ... later.”

“I can’t believe you would do that.”

“I’ll do what it takes. But also, for what it’s worth, I know a good employment lawyer. There might be something you could do with Theta, and it would be easier if you were here for that.” I haven’t even finished speaking before she begins shaking her head.

“I don’t want to be anyplace where they don’t want me. Where they don’t appreciate me.”

Good for her. “But there might still be something in it for you. An unfair-dismissal claim might mean money. A payout.”

“Screw them. I want nothing from Theta. I don’t even want to see their name on my résumé.”

“Fair enough.” I lift my pastry and take a bite.

I’m sure in other circumstances it would taste amazing.

But right now, I might as well be chewing sawdust, because all I want to do is experience the softness of her fluffy sweater.

Maybe rub my face across it. Before I take it off.

Run my fingers through her silky hair. Before I wrap it around my fist.

I’ve heard of pregnancy hormones increasing a woman’s sex drive but not that they’re meant to make the dad a horny fucker. I doubt pregnancy porn qualifies as anecdotal evidence, not that I’ve partaken. Not that it stops my thoughts from turning dirtily in on themselves.

Hey, darlin’. How would you feel about watching some dirty movies on my flat-screen mirror this evening?

Fuck, I’m definitely losing my marbles.

“I’ll pay you rent.”

My head snaps up at the sound of her voice, her words bypassing my brain and affecting my body immediately. Happy confetti bursting in my chest! I just about restrain myself from offering her a fist bump.

“Rent,” she repeats, her expression firm. “Which makes me your tenant .”

“You can pay me if you want. I’ll put that money aside for Matt Junior.” Next thing, I’m picking a raspberry out of my hair. “Or Matilda,” I say, putting it in my mouth. “I’m open to either. Unless you prefer Pierre.”

She gives a soft, husky laugh as, this time, the raspberry hits my forehead.

“I’d say you’re open to disappointment,” she says, licking the custard from her thumb.

“On both counts.” Her eyes catch mine, and a jolt shoots through me—through us both.

We’re on the same page and thinking the same thing.

The hotel. The chair, her body inches from mine.

I caught her wrist as she pulled her hand from her panties.

Like a good girl, following my instruction.

Her fingers in my mouth, that first taste like a drug. I licked and sucked as she watched.

We gravitate closer as I realize, as if for the first time, the effort it’s taken not to touch her. When all I want to do is haul her closer and suck the goodness right out of her.

“I must have some rights,” I murmur, my heart pumping and my cock beginning to throb.

“You think?” She’s all cleavage and sparkling provocation as the tip of her tongue swipes at the corner of her mouth.

“Well,” I begin, capturing a silky lock of her hair. “I did put a baby inside you.”

Her eyes glitter like blue flames, her plump lips pursing as she begins to respond. But that’s as far as she gets—her attention jerking upward. From the floor above, the front door slams loudly shut.

My apology is a quiet groan as I hear my sister’s muffled complaint. Jaysus, Letty. You pick your fuckin’ moments, I think to myself. I begin to pull away, halting when, from the stairwell, a little voice makes itself heard:

“Uncle Matty, how did you put a baby inside the lady?”