Page 434 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Rick

"Mr. Mitchell." Violet rises to her feet.

"Please, call me Rick." I walk over to grasp her hand.

"Thank you so much for the prompt payment. I still can’t believe how quickly everything has transpired."

"Thank you for creating an amazing space." I squeeze her hand, then turn to face the woman who’s darting daggers at me.

"You’re buying this shop?"

"I already bought this shop. I was fulfilling a promise I made to Grams."

"A promise?" She scowls.

"Grams wanted me to use the money I inherited from her wisely. A portion of it was to go toward helping struggling bookshops—specifically, spicy bookshops—from going under."

"And this was the one you identified?" Her frown deepens.

"Among others." I nod.

"You know each other?" Violet looks from me to Goldie, then back at me. There’s a look of speculation on her face. After several moments of silence, Goldie slowly nods her head.

"I know him from London. He’s my…" She swallows. "He’s my husband."

A ball of heat forms in my chest, and my pulse rate shoots through the roof. Her husband. She called me her husband. I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear that again.

She locks her fingers together in a gesture that gives away her nervousness, and the light bounces off of the rings—both of them—on her finger.

That warmth in my chest deepens and grows until my entire body is suffused with heat.

I feel like I’ve won the League all over again.

No, this is more fulfilling than winning a cup, more personal than winning any match, more adrenaline inducing than being on the hunt for the enemy on the front line, more real, more personal, more everything.

This is everything. She is everything, and more.

She is my universe. Every breath I take belongs to her. I take a step toward her, then another.

As if from a long distance away, I hear Violet say, "I’ll leave you two to catch up." The door shuts softly behind her.

I come to a stop in front of her, then notch my knuckles under her chin. "Hello wife," I say softly.

She swallows. "Husband." She tilts her head. "You are my husband."

"And you are mine." I search her features. "Aren’t you upset about what I did?"

"You mean, keeping track of me enough to know where I was working?"

"You noticed?"

"You didn’t think when you asked me to meet you at the bookshop, I wouldn’t?

" She tips up her chin. "Or the fact you decided to buy out the shop? I don’t think I need to ask why you did it.

I already know you found out the financial troubles she was having, and you took it upon yourself to help her. "

"And you’re not pissed off about it?" I ask carefully.

"I wanted to be." She half smiles. "I almost was, if I'm honest, but I realized you did it because you could."

I nod.

"Because you wanted to help her."

I nod again.

"Because you wanted to make an impression on me?"

"Well, that wasn’t to make an impression on you."

"It wasn’t?" She frowns.

I shake my head. "But I’m hoping this will. I bought the store so I could gift it to you, so you could run it and do what you want with it."

"What?" She gapes.

"You love reading spicy novels. Grams loved them, too. She often told me, after Grandad died, they were her solace. She found friends among the pages, felt herself healing as she read about the journeys of the characters. Then, she got a new lease on life when she made friends amongst the book community. Her book club was very dear to her. And I’m hoping you can run this bookshop in her memory. "

Her chin trembles. "I’d love to, of course."

"Would you hate it if I told you I also bought out a bookshop in London, which I’d love for you to rebrand and take over? Make it into a chain, you know?" I say nonchalantly.

"London?" She bites down on her lower lip. "You want me to run a bookshop in London?"

"Yep, come up with a name, and brand the two shops, then manage them as a franchise?"

"So you want me to spend time between L.A. and London?"

"I want you to spend time with me." I take her hands in mine. "How does that sound?"

"It’s something I need to think about."

"Of course."

"I don’t make any decision without first thinking it over, doing my due diligence, if you know what I mean?"

"Whatever works for you." I run my thumb over her rings, and a fierce satisfaction grips me.

"You’re very accommodating," she murmurs.

"I’m learning to be patient."

"Not that patient." She tugs her hand from mine then places her palm on my crotch. My already thickening cock extends. She squeezes down, and a growl rumbles up my chest.

"And here I’m trying to be good to you."

"The only way you can be good to me is by being very bad" —her smile widens—"in bed, that is."

"Your wish is my command." I place my hand over hers. With my other, I cup her cheek. "You’re sure you’re not angry with me?"

She shakes her head.

"Not upset at me anymore?"

She shakes her head again. "I see you, Rick." She places her hand over my heart. "I hear you. I sense the man you are. Sensitive inside, but with this hard countenance that you put up to protect yourself. A bit like a jackfruit."

"O-k-a-y?"

"All prickly with a stony skin, but once you saw your way through, you’re met with all that juicy flesh."

"Are you saying my flesh is juicy?" I ask mildly.

"This part of you is all thick and juicy." She begins to massage my thickening arousal and a groan vibrates up my throat.

"Keep that up and I might come in my pants like a teenager."

"I’d have loved to have known you as a teenager."

"No, you wouldn’t've. You think I’m bad-tempered now? You should have seen me then. All irritable and surly, and I spoke even less."

"And you were adorable. I saw the pictures at Grams’, remember?"

The smile fades from my features. "I want us to move into Grams’ place. I want you to help me renovate it, keeping the parts that she loved but also making it our own for our family."

"Our family." She swallows.

"I’d love to have children." I search her features. "Whenever you’re ready."

Her brow furrows.

"And if you don’t want children, I’m fine with that, as long as I have you."

Her features flush, and her eyes shine. "You’re amazing, have I told you that?"

I allow myself to smile. "No, but I’m not complaining."

Her eyes shine. She looks up into my face. "I have something else to tell you."