Page 184 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Cade

I’m up before dawn, having slept for maybe an hour or two. I grab my now dry clothes from the washing machine and pull them on, then fold the robe and the duvet, placing them on the pillow. I walk across the silent living room, and with one last look at the door to her bedroom, I let myself out.

I walk down the flight of steps and out the front door, and I’m assaulted by flashbulbs. Oh, fuck! I blink, then school my features into one of nonchalance. "'Sup, boys?"

The paps keep clicking away. I shut the door behind me and shoulder my way past them.

"You and Abby still together, Cade?"

"Is it true you split up?

"Did you spend the night with Abby? Did you two make up?"

I turn on the reporter who asked the question. "None of your business," I grind out.

The man’s eyes light up. Fuck. Replying to the question was a tactical error. The question was, clearly, a fishing expedition aimed at getting a reaction, and I fell for it.

I turn and begin to walk up the sidewalk when I hear, "Is it true the engagement is fake?" The same reporter’s voice reaches me.

I freeze. The fuck? How did they get wind of that? Was it that…motherfucking Mullet. Definitely, he’s the one behind it.

I square my shoulders and keep walking, with the news people in tow.

"Not that I’m surprised. She might come from money, but she doesn’t compare to the supermodels you’ve dated, eh?"

Anger roars through my veins. I freeze, then turn slowly to face him. "The fuck you talking about?"

The reporter pulls back his lips. "Not the best-looking fish in the sea, eh? Not to mention, she’s overweight, and she—" I leap forward, grab him by his collar and haul him to his feet. "Don’t fucking talk about her, you piece of shit, you—"

"Cade!" Abby’s voice reaches me. "Cade, up here."

I glance up to find Abby leaning out of her bedroom window. She holds my gaze, then shakes her head slowly. I draw in a breath, then another, but make no move to release the bastard.

That’s when she shoves one leg over the windowsill.

"The fuck?" I release the guy and stare up at her. "What are you doing, Abby?" I yell.

Next to me, all of the reporters train their cameras up at her, clicking away furiously.

She smiles slowly. "I trust you to catch me."

Then she thrusts her other leg out to the window and stays poised on her sill for a second.

"I trust you, Cade."

Heat flushes my skin, and my heart slams into my ribcage. Everything else fades away. Everything but Abby and that big smile on her face as she looks down at me.

"Catch me, baby." She jumps.

I hold out my arms. Everything stops. Time, itself, slows down as she flies through the air.

The next second, I hold her tightly against my chest. My heart rate is through the roof.

The blood is pounding at my temples with such force, flecks of black color my vision.

But in my arms is my angel. My love. My life.

My everything. And she’s laughing up at me, her cheeks so rosy, her eyes gleaming green.

"Fucking hell, baby." My voice trembles. "Fucking hell."

"The meanest alphahole in the world, at a loss for words.”

I squeeze her against my chest so tightly she squeaks.

I loosen my hold on her, just a fraction, just enough for her to breathe with ease, but not enough that I can’t feel as much of her gorgeous body against mine as possible.

A trembling sets in, a quiver runs up my spine, my muscles spasm, and my knees knock together.

"You okay, baby?" She cups my cheek.

"Not yet, but I will be." I sink down, right there on the sidewalk, with my Sparrow in my lap and tuck her head under my chin, not caring that the paps are catching us on camera.

"Jesus Christ, Abby, what were you thinking?"

"That I didn’t want you to get into a fight and risk negative publicity again."

"So, you risked your life?" I swallow the ball of emotion that crowds my throat. A strange heaviness knocks against the backs of my eyes.

"I know, as long as you’re here, I’ll always be safe, Cade." She wraps her fingers about the nape of my neck and urges my head down to hers. "Nothing can ever happen to me when you’re with me."

My heart feels like it’s going to break out of my ribcage. The heaviness in my head grows until it spills out of the corner of my eye. She leans up and licks away the teardrop, then presses tiny kisses down my cheek to the edge of my mouth.

"This still doesn’t change anything," she whispers against my mouth.

"This changes everything."

I hold her gaze, my heart racing as fast as hers, every part of my body alive in a way that’s strange and new, and yet, so right. I want to turn my head and kiss her, but I wait…wait. She blows out a soft breath, then leans in and presses her lips to mine.

"That’s some kiss." Declan glances up from his phone. He came over to my place to check on me—under the guise of wanting to work out with me at my home gym. He also shared the headlines Abby and I made in newspapers across the country.

"You guys are trending on social media." He narrows his gaze. "That, along with the news that almost every sponsor has dropped you, makes you the most talked about topic on the internet today."

"Not everyone." I lean back in my seat. The non-profit who’d been keen to work with me were delighted to sign me on. As for the rest? Good riddance. Sure, it means a huge earnings hit— almost all of my revenue streams for the rest of the year have dried up, but fuck that. I can build up the pool of partners I work with, this time, choosing the ones who’re not only ethical but also prioritize more than just their own bottom-lines.

"So, you guys made up?"

"You could say that." I nod slowly.

"So, she’s forgiven you?"

"Almost."

"Huh?" He glances down at the picture on his device, then back up at me. "Sure could have fooled me."

"I don’t want her to feel obliged or pressured in any way, you know? And while I admit, she initiated the kiss, I want to make sure she didn’t feel like she had to do it to break up the fight I got into with the paparazzi just before that."

He gapes at me, then barks a laugh. "Jesus, fuck, King, don’t think I can recognize you anymore."

I raise a shoulder. "As long as I’m everything she wants me to be…"

"You do realize, one section of the media is calling you pussy-whipped?"

I laugh. "Because I stepped down from my captaincy of the English cricket team and moved out of playing professional cricket?”

"It was a surprise; you have to admit."

"It would’ve taken me away from her for long periods of time—something I cannot bear anymore.

I want to spend every second of my life making things up to her.

How can I do that when I’m always on tour?

Besides, they offered me the position of a commentator.

” And I negotiated it, so I’ll only be involved when matches are played on our home ground.

Which means, I won’t be available for about eighty percent of the matches played, but fuck that.

Between my investments and the sponsorships I’ve lined up, I have more than enough money to keep my woman in the style she deserves.

I’m also starting a scholarship fund for promising young players from disadvantaged backgrounds.

Not everyone is as fortunate as me to have a Knight coming to their rescue, so I’m going to play Knight and try my best to help as many young people as I can.

“So, you’re retiring from competitive sport?” Declan asks.

“You could say that.” I press the tips of my fingers together. “I prefer to think I’m joining the world of the living.”

There’s a touch on my shoulder and I glance up to find Abby standing behind me.

“Sparrow, what are you doing here?” I rise to my feet, and taking her hand in mine, bring it up to my mouth and kiss the back of it. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’m done for the day. Also, I wanted to see you.”

Behind me, Declan also stands up. “Good to see you again, Abby. See you around, arsehole.” Then he leans forward and slaps my head.

“The fuck?”

“Just a reminder not to fuck it up this time. I’ll see myself out.” He walks away whistling.

Abby bursts out laughing.

I glare at her. “That hurt.”

“Aww, poor baby, should I kiss you and make you feel better?” She rises on her tiptoes.

I step back. “Not that I don’t want you to kiss me, but seriously, what are you doing here?”

“You live here, don’t you?”

I tilt my head.

“I wanted to come by and see how you were doing. Also—" She peers into my eyes. “I don’t want you to give up playing cricket for me.”

I cradle her hands between my much bigger palms. “I’m doing it for me, baby.”

“But Cade—" She swallows. “The game is your life.”

“You are my life.”

She flushes, then shakes her head. “I can’t let you throw away your dreams.”

“You are my dream, Sparrow. Your happiness, your desires, what brings a smile to your lips, what makes you excited, what you dream of… That’s what I seek.”

“But Cade—"

I place a finger on her lips. “I was stumbling along, not knowing what I was seeking, not realizing that the one thing, the only thing that could redeem me was the woman whose name has been etched into my soul, one way or the other, since I was a teenager. You make me the kind of man whose gaze I can meet in the mirror every morning. When I’m with you, I become the version of me that I’d hoped to become, but which I’d abandoned along the way.

You transform me, baby. You make me happy.

You make me content—which is a state of mind I didn’t imagine would be so much more exciting than any other emotion I’ve ever experienced on the field. ”

I sink down to one knee, still holding her hand in mine, then pull out the ring I’ve been carrying around in my pocket for a few weeks now.

“Will you marry me, Abigail Warren? Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I promise to love you, and honor you, and respect you, and cherish you. I’ll be your dream, your wish, your every fantasy come true.

I’ll be your hope, your love, everything that you desire.

I love you with my every breath, my soul, my heart—which was, admittedly, a dark place until you came back into my life.

You give me a reason to live; you give my future a deeper meaning.

I found the reason for my smile, the day I found you.

Will you let me be the reason for your smile, too? ”

She laughs, then begins to cry.

Oh, hell. That’s not good, is it? My heart jumps into my throat. My stomach ties itself in knots. “Abby, baby… I didn’t mean for you to cry, Sparrow.”

I begin to rise, but she shakes her head. “Don’t you dare spoil the most beautiful, most perfect proposal ever.” She hiccups.

I swallow down the doubts that crowd my throat. “Does that mean—"

“Yes, you idiot, of course, I’ll marry you.”