Page 340 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Knight

"You’re not pregnant?"

She shakes her head. "I got my period yesterday, and I was so upset. But I was also relieved. I’m not ready to be a mother, yet, you know?

Not until I’ve lived life a little, and traveled, and crossed some items off my bucket list. Paris, for sure.

It’s only two hours from here by Eurostar, and I’ve never been.

Can you imagine? And I haven’t explored the ancient lost city of Petra, or seen the Northern Lights.

Of course, there are a few things I know you’re going to help me tick off, like having five orgasms in one night, I mean you’re the master of orgasms, so I know this is bound to happen at some point.

And then, you said we’d have anal—" She squeezes her eyes shut.

"Did I say anal aloud in the park? Ignore that.

" She draws in a breath. "Not that I should be embarrassed to say that aloud, and I know we haven't done it yet, but you should know, I’ve been practicing with a plug in my bum like in the fanfic stories and, aargh—" She slaps her forehead.

"Now I said bum. How could I say bum?" She buries her forehead against my chest. "Can we start again? I’m nervous—"

"Penny, it’s okay."

"—no, you don’t understand. I’m really nervous. I wanted to tell you. I should have told you yesterday. But I had a good cry, and Mira was there to console me, and then we ate ice-cream together and watched a chick flick, although I really did want to call you and talk to you instead—"

"You should have."

"—but I was worried you’d be upset. I know how much this means to you and—"

"Penny, you’re more important."

"—now, your dad’s going to be upset and—"

"Fuck my dad."

"Did you say F your dad?" she asks in a small voice.

I notch my knuckles under her chin, so she has to look up at me.

"You heard me. I will not let him control my life anymore. Everything I’ve done so far in my life has been to get a reaction out of him, and that includes joining the Royal Marines.

" I wince. It’s the first time I’ve said the words aloud.

"Wow, that’s quite a confession," she murmurs.

"All those months of being stuck on my own provided me enough time to think over my past. When I returned to London, I was confused about what I wanted. I lost faith in the goals that guided my life until then. I joined the military—not only because I wanted to serve my country, though that, too—but also because it was a giant fuck you to my father’s lifestyle.

He spent his time pursuing money and power, and I swore not to be like him.

But then I got captured, and my world turned upside down.

So, when I returned, I figured what I had to do was embrace that materialistic part of me, if that makes sense? "

She nods. "And now?"

"Now, I know you’re the most important thing in my life—" Tiny’s bark reaches us and a few seconds later he bumps into me from behind. I manage to hold my stance and keep her upright at the same time. I laugh. "And this boy, of course."

"You make a great dog-parent. You’d have made a great dad, too."

"There’s time."

She swallows. "Is it horrible that I was relieved not to be pregnant. I do want kids, just not yet."

"I want what you want. And if we never have kids, having you with me, by my side, in my life, is enough."

"Oh, you two remind me of me and your dad," Michelle pauses between us. Tiny barks again and tugs on his leash.

I release Penny and grab his collar before her mother overbalances. "Down boy." He instantly plants his butt on the floor and pants up at me.

"You’ve been such a good boy; you deserve your treat." I pull out the packet of doggy treats I’ve taken to carrying around and toss him one of the biscuits. He flicks out his tongue, snatches it out of the air, then looks at me with pleading eyes.

I laugh. "One more, but that’s the last one, okay boy?"

Tiny woofs, then snaps up the next biscuit and pants up at me.

"No more for you," I say in a warning voice. He whines and drops his head, and a melting sensation squeezes my chest. I close the distance to him and rub him behind his ears. "Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy, is who.

" Tiny bumps his head against me. I scratch it, and he purrs. Honest to god, this dog sometimes behaves like he’s a cat.

"You’ll have dinner soon enough, okay?" I step back, then turn to find Penny staring at me.

"What?"

Her lips twitch, then she shakes her head. "Nothing."

"You lying, hmm?"

She flushes. "I was thinking how much you’ve changed since I first met you."

"Funny how the love of a good woman can do that."

Her flush deepens. She looks around, then back at me. "Uh, it’s getting late."

"Eric, there you are." Michelle tugs on my sleeve. "What took you so long? You’re late for dinner. We need to get back to the house before Penny returns from her friend’s house."

I frown.

"Eric, didn’t you hear me. Let’s head back home."

"She thinks you’re my father," Penny murmurs.

"Ah." I hook Michelle’s arm through mine. "You’re right, time we headed back."

"Thank you," Penny says in a soft voice as I drive her back home. I gave Rudy the day off. He deserves some time with his grandkids. Funny how I never thought about that before today. That’s how much she’s changing me.

Bit by bit, she’s transforming me. No one has had such a profound impact on my life, not even my parents.

My father was solely focused on his business, and my mother, while she made sure we were cared for, wasn’t the most open emotionally.

It’s why Abby and I turned to each other.

And I haven't spent as much time as I should with her since my return. I’ve shirked my duties as a brother.

And as a husband? I can no longer fool myself into thinking our relationship is fake.

It might have started out as an arrangement, but it’s become so much more.

So, tell her that. Why can’t I tell her how I feel about her?

Why can’t I tell her about the other thing I’ve hidden from her?

Will she judge me for it? It's the one thing I haven’t dared tell any of my friends so far.

"Today was a good day for her, thanks to you." Penny turns to me. "It wouldn’t have been possible without you. Thank you for playing along with her illusions."

"I know all about illusions," I murmur.

She gives me a strange look. "Sometimes you say the weirdest things. And I don’t know if you mean it in jest or not."

I focus on the road, not sure what to tell her.

I don’t want to lie to her anymore, but sharing more with her— Am I ready for it?

It would make me vulnerable to her in a way I’ve never been with anyone else.

She continues to stare at me, no doubt, expecting a reply.

My throat closes, my skin prickles, and I grip the steering wheel with such force, the skin of my knuckles turns white. The tension in the car thickens.

She opens her mouth to say something, but that’s when Tiny chooses to bark from his doggy seat that I’ve fitted into the back. He paws at the window, then presses his nose into it. She turns to see what’s gotten his attention and laughs. "Oh, so cute, Tiny’s found himself a girlfriend."

"A girlfriend huh?" I ease the car to a stop at a red-light, then glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, the boy’s staring through the window at a poodle. The little dog is strapped into a doggy seat in the adjacent car. She has a bow clipped behind her ear and must be less than one-quarter of Tiny’s size.

She looks at him, then haughty as can be, looks straight ahead.

Tiny barks and places his paw against the window. The light changes. The car drives off, and Tiny whines.

"Aww, poor baby, did she blank you, huh?" Penny laughs.

"Better get used to it, boy. You have a lifetime of groveling and giving in to female demands ahead of you."

I take my foot off the brake and guide the car forward. We ride in silence for a few minutes, then she asks, "Is that how you see it moving forward? You giving in to my demands?"

"When needed," I agree.

"And groveling?"

"I haven’t started, if that’s what you’re alluding to."

"Is this a precursor of the groveling phase, then?"

"What do you mean?”

"Checking in on my mom, then taking us out on a picnic, getting the picnic basket delivered, playing along with my mother’s delusions."

I pause, then flip on the indicator before I answer, "Your mother and I have a lot in common."

"How’s that?"

"Both of us suffered a shock—she, when your father died; me, when I was tortured. Both of us began to lose our minds. Only difference is, I hide it well."