Daddy's Million Dollar Proposal (Big Daddies of Los Angeles Book 4) by Kelly Myers

Author:Kelly Myers [Myers, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

12

Devin

I am done. Completely done with Morgan O’Connell. The mantra I’ve been repeating all day completely disintegrates when I open the door and see Morgan standing there wearing a short little dress and that shy smile that makes me want to rip her clothes off. My body reacts instantly and desires pumps through my veins.

“I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” she says. “I just wanted to bring you something.” She holds a tin up.

“C’mon in,” I say and she hands me the container as she passes. She smells like a vine of fresh, blooming jasmine and my groin tightens. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

I pry the lid off and when I see the coconut chocolate chip cookies, my heart twists. She’s so sweet and now I have to be a dick and tell her to leave. At least, that’s what I should do.

I am done, I remind myself.

But, maybe not quite yet. It’s not going to hurt if we talk for a minute, right? “My favorite. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I also wanted to let you know that I was able to pay off all of my mom’s hospital bills. You have no idea what a relief that is and-”

Her voice cracks and I see tears shimmer in her eyes making them turn into this amazing shade of bright blue topaz. Don’t cry, I think. Please, don’t fucking cry. I can’t stand when women cry. It makes me feel things that I’d rather just ignore. Emotions suck. They make you weak and vulnerable. The only feelings I like are the ones that make me feel in control and in power. There’s a reason people call me intense, aloof and cool. It’s just what works best for me.

Luckily, she reins it in and I don’t have to deal with a sobbing mess. Because I have a feeling that if I pull Morgan into my arms to comfort her then I’m not going to be able to let her go.

And, that can’t happen. I have to let her go.

“I just wanted to come here and say thank you in person.”

Goddammit, I feel my resolve weakening. She’s so sincere, overflowing with gratitude, and I love how genuine she always is. I don’t have to worry about an ulterior motive or that she’s only interested in my money or wants a favor from me.

Well, shit, the least thing I can do is offer her a cookie. I tilt the tin in her direction. “Want one?”

“I’ve already stolen a couple, but sure. Thanks.”

“C’mon.” She follows me into the kitchen and sits at the island, placing her bag on the granite countertop. I sit down next to her, grab a cookie and take a bite. Mid-chew, I pause. Holy shit, they taste exactly like my mom’s did. For a moment, I’m speechless.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“What’s in these?”

She frowns. “Um, just the usual ingredients.”

“No, you did something extra.”

She thinks for a minute. “I sprinkled sea salt on top. Oh, and I toasted some of the coconut. Why? Are they not good?”

That’s it.

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