Page 80 of The Wrong Billionaire
“You’re not just a pretty face,” she says, and Ruth laughs.
“Cheeky,” I murmur, leaning close to Wren and nuzzling her ear.
She shivers. “Stop it,” she whispers, “she’ll see.”
“Don’t care.” I nibble her earlobe. “We’re married. It’s legal.”
She sighs and turns her head to face me, and we exchange a long, luscious kiss.
“What time are you two lovebirds off?” Ruth asks when we finally move apart.
“Around ten, I reckon.”
“Well, I hope you have a fantastic day.” She hangs the tea towel up. “You can leave your plates in the sink when you’re done and I’ll tidy up. You’ll be out for lunch, obviously. I thought I’d make a steak and ale pie for your dinner tonight.”
“Ooh,” Wren says, and I nod my approval.
“I’ll leave it in the oven, and you’ll just need to heat it up when you come in.”
“Perfect.”
“Any news on the pups?” Wren asks. “I haven’t seen the dogs this morning.”
“They’re out with Jacob. No, no sign of puppies yet.”
“I’d love to be there when they’re born,” Wren states.
Ruth smiles. “We’ll see if we can organize it. We live in a cottage at the edge of the south paddock—it’s only a five-minute drive. Okay, well, I’m off. Chickens and cows and sheep to feed.”
“Thanks, Ruth.” I stand to give her a hug.
“Have a great day.” She winks at me before making her way out.
Wren sips her coffee, her eyes dancing. “So, what’s this big adventure you’ve planned?”
“You’ll find out when we get there.” I finish the last mouthful of hash brown and sausage with a forkful of baked beans and sigh. “I might need a walk to help this go down.”
“I was thinking the same.” She studies me over the rim of her cup. Her eyes are warm. “It’s been lovely to learn a bit about your family and your upbringing. It sounds like you had a happy childhood.”
“It was, on the whole, yeah, made easier, of course, when the business took off, even though it meant Dad was away a lot. It’s not all about money, though, obviously. I was lucky to have two parents who loved us all very much, and who were prepared to do anything for us. I don’t want my child to want for anything, but most of all I’d like for them to feel loved and wanted, and safe and secure.”
She nods slowly. “They’re not small things. Clare and I spent a lot of our childhood having to do without the things a lot of our friends had—the latest fashions, the fanciest toys, the best phones… and happy parents. We spent a lot of time in childcare while Mum worked. She did her best, but it was hard for her.”
“How old were you when she remarried?”
“Twelve, so just starting high school. Clare was ten. I liked Freddie, but he had two young kids by another woman, and naturally they were his priority. He eventually went back to them, you know.”
My eyebrows rise. “Really?”
“Yeah. That was hard for Mum. I suppose she must have always felt that he was pulled toward his first family. She said once she always felt second best.”
“You’ll never feel like that,” I tell her. “I promise you. You’ll be the first thing I think about in the morning, and the last thing I think about before I close my eyes.”
She smiles, but she looks a little bemused, as if she thinks I’m telling her what she wants to hear. She doesn’t realize that for most days over the last ten years, that’s been the case. For so long, she was the one who got away. But now she’s mine, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure she remains that way.
Chapter Eighteen
Wren
