Page 497 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Edward

"You shouldn’t have rushed back," G-Pa says from his bed. Tiny is on his haunches near him, and G-Pa keeps reaching out to pet him. The Great Dane welcomed me and my wife when we arrived, then went back to being by my G-Pa’s side.

The friendship between the two of them has deepened since I last saw them.

"Of course, we should have." My wife slides into the chair next to G-Pa’s bed and takes his hand in hers. "I’m glad you’re okay."

"There’s nothing wrong with me," he insists.

"Of course, not," she says in a soothing voice.

"Don’t patronize me, young lady," he says in a half-stern voice.

"Me, patronize you?" she says in an innocent tone. "As if I’d dare."

"Oh, yes, you would." His eyes twinkle, before he darts his gaze in my direction. "Of course, you have my permission to do what’s needed to keep my grandson in line."

Like I’m not pussy-whipped enough? Aside from the fact I seem to lose my voice when I want to tell her I love her, I’ve lost all free will.

I’ve lost the ability to do anything except stay close to her, and look at her, and touch her to make sure she’s real.

Which, considering the reason I took on this role in my grandfather’s company was to find focus, has turned my world upside down.

I found my reason for living the day I saw her, but I didn’t recognize it.

It was only after marrying her and realizing there was no better sound in the world than calling her 'my wife' that my world found its axis.

I found my grounding. My anchor. My re-entry back into reality.

My equilibrium. She is my foundation. My life.

Mine. So why am I not able to tell that to her?

"I’m glad you’re okay." She places her other hand over his and squeezes.

"It was nothing," he huffs.

"It was a fall," Knox growls from where he’s standing at one corner of G-Pa’s bed.

"I was barely hurt." G-Pa sets his jaw.

"You fractured your toe," Nathan says in a mild voice. He’s the one who messaged me. He was trying to make amends for the fact my grandfather decided to share my veto power of the company with him. My older half-brother leans a hip against the windowsill. It’s as far away from the rest of us as possible.

Clearly, I’m not the only one who has issues.

Nor am I the newest member to join the family fold and meet his extended family for the first time.

"It was a hairline fracture," G-Pa protests.

"It could have been much worse if Tiny hadn’t found you," Knox growls.

"Tiny found you?" I glance toward the Great Dane, who looks at me with his big melting eyes.

"I didn’t have my phone with me when I fell in the bathroom. Luckily I didn’t lock the door. Tiny pushed the door open and came in when he heard me groan. I gestured to him to go my nightstand and grab my phone and bring it to me. I wasn’t sure if he could understand me—"

"But he did?" my wife exclaims.

"He did." G-Pa pats the big dog’s head, and he places his chin on G-Pa’s bed and looks up at the old man with adoring eyes.

"Aww, you’re a hero." She drops to her knees and hugs the dog, who looks at me over her shoulder with a smirk… No, he really has a smirk on his face. He’s in her good books, while I’ve been banished to the doghouse.

I resist the urge to bare my teeth at the mutt.

He’s just a dog. So what, if my wife feels more kindly toward him at the moment.

"I’ll be at my desk in the office before you know it," G-Pa declares.

"You need to rest your foot," Knox reminds him.

"My foot!" G-Pa snaps.

"That’s what he said," I nod.

"I second that," Nathan rumbles.

G-Pa looks at the three of us, a considering look coming into his eyes. "So, it takes me being on my deathbed for my family to form a united front."

"You’re not on your death bed," I point out.

"I have a fracture," he groans.

My wife snickers at me over her shoulder. I begin to smile back, when she must realize what she’s done and that she’s supposed to be pissed off with me, for she turns back to G-Pa. "You were just saying you were completely okay."

G-Pa slumps back against his pillows. "I think, I’m feeling a little weak…" He ends his sentence on a moan, which is more theatrical than pain-filled.

"We could get the doctor back in. He did say if the pain got worse he could inject you with painkillers," Knox offers.

"An injection?" G-Pa pales. "That’s not needed. I just need some rest, is all." He pretends to yawn.

"We should leave you." My wife locks her fingers together.

"You take good care of her, you hear me?" G-Pa glares at me from across the room. "I don’t want to hear any complaints from her."

She bites down on her lower lip, probably to stop herself from slinging a host of grievances against me. Problem is, it makes me wonder how it would feel to have those lips wrapped around my cock and her fingers digging into my thigh as I grip her jaw and—

"Edward, did you hear what I said, boy?" G-Pa booms.

"Yes, you want the family together for Sunday lunch.

" Kill me already. An entire afternoon with my half-siblings is not my idea of a relaxing weekend, or a relaxing anything. Or anything approaching relaxation. The only thing I want right now is to take my wife home and find a way to make things up to her. Perhaps, she’ll allow me to hold her and sniff her hair, and if I apologize enough, she might let me bury my dick inside her tight, moist hole.

"That’s right. I expect to see the both of you there."

"I’m sorry but—" I begin but my wife interrupts me.

"Of course, G-Pa, we’ll be there."

"But—" I begin, but she scowls at me over her shoulder. Pathetic arse that I am, I’m so grateful for the fact that she acknowledges my presence—only the second time since we left the lighthouse earlier today—that I zip my lips and watch as she turns back to Arthur.

She leans over and kisses his cheek. "You should rest up. We’ll see you for Sunday lunch."

Which means, she's not planning to leave me… Yet. Which gives me time, until Sunday, to woo her back. She wanted to be dated and courted. Well, I’m going to re-invent the meaning of those words.

I walk over and hold out my hand. She looks at it, then back up at me, and I’m sure she’s going to refuse, but then she places her much smaller hand in mine.

The stress in my shoulders leaches out. Fucking hell, if every minute of my time is going to be spent bathed in so much tension, then I'm headed for the coronary my wife predicted when she first set eyes on me.

By then, I already knew everything it was possible to know about her, but it wasn't a replacement for spending time with her.

For discovering her likes and dislikes, how she wrinkles her forehead when she's thinking, how she sighs when she sips her coffee, how she makes those little moans at the back of her throat when she's aroused, how her lips thin when she's angry with me.

And yet, I can’t regret the fact that I invaded her privacy.

That I watched her unobserved. That I snooped around her life.

That, since I set eyes on her, I’ve made sure to have eyes on her all the time.

How can I, when a part of me worries that I won't be able to prevent bad things from happening to her? Is this how it feels to love someone? When your heart feels like it’s being torn out your chest, and every time you think about how vulnerable they are, your chest tightens, your lungs burn, your pulse rate shoots through the roof and you’re sure you’re having a panic attack?

"Ed?" She squeezes my hand. "You okay?’

She called me Ed. Not Eddie. But also, not Edward. That's another sign there's a chance here for me to put things right… Right?

When I don’t reply, she grabs my collar, pulls me down, then goes up on tiptoe and kisses my lips.