Dad Bod Billionaire: Dad Bod Series - Men Built for Comfort by Matilda Martel

Author:Matilda Martel [Martel, Matilda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

MACY

I think I've hurt his feelings. I'm not sure what he believes, but I'm pretty sure he didn't expect me to be indifferent. And why would he? This is not who I am. I can't let my fear of rejection transform me into a person I don't like. I trust Willow knows best in most situations, but not this one. It's not her fault. She's been terrified of love ever since her dad left her mom for his secretary. I'm not her. My dad and mom parted ways long ago, but I still believe in true love. Hunter and I were placed on this earth for one another. I know it like I know my name is Marcella Isabel Ramos.

Maybe I lack real-world experience in the sexual arena, but I'm hardly a stranger to affairs of the heart. I was sixteen years old the first time I laid eyes on Hunter Jackson King, and I knew in an instant that there was no need to look any further. I'd found the only man who would forever own my heart.

Seven years later and my affection has never wavered---not once.

Perhaps Willow's methods work on her clients, actors, and actresses who live their lives pretending to be other people. But this is not a strategy I want to employ. If Hunter comes to me, he needs to come to me with both eyes open. If he rejects me, then I'll know I did all that I could, and he walked away knowing exactly what I felt.

I'm in love. I'm not ashamed of my feelings, and I refuse to spend one more minute holding them in. "Hunter?" I set my fork down and wiggle in my chair, sitting high enough to look him straight in the eye---almost.

His gorgeous green eyes flash to mine, and I detect a hint of exasperation. It's my fault for beating around the bush like a teenage girl playing games. You don't wait as long as I have and play it cool. I'm on a mission, and things will either get nasty or ugly. The choice is entirely his.

"Macy..." His gruff reply and the sadness in his expression give me a hint of hope.

"Please hear me out. I'm going to say something, and then I'm going to stand up and leave." I release a sharp breath and steel my heart for the aftermath. This could end in tears, but I need to speak my peace. It's long overdue.

He slides to the edge of his seat and tries to reach for my hand. As much as I want to take that giant mitt, I'm too nervous. My palms are soaked, and that's not how I want to be remembered. "You don't need to leave. I'll go. Stay here and enjoy your meal. I've made you uncomfortable all evening, and I apologize. I know I'm your boss and twice your age, but I'm still a man---a man who..." He stops mid-sentence and leaves me hanging, lost in my own little world of hopeful desire.

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