Be My Babygirl A Billionaire Romance - Jane Henry Page 0,45
my bed, and I’ve risen above goddamn Tiffany’s catty shenanigans.
I grab our bags and head inside, intent on not letting Tiffany or Rawley or any of them fuck this trip up. Rawley and Tiffany deserve each other.
The black lacquered door swings closed behind me. I look for Katie, but only see Rawley, who’s wielding the duster on the mantle while Tiffany sits, scowling, her arms crossed on her chest. Good luck with that one, bro.
The gleaming hardwood floors give way to tile as I make my way to the sprawling farmhouse kitchen. Katie’s sitting at the breakfast bar, already nursing a cup of tea.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” I say. I walk over to Katie and kiss her cheek. “You keep Gran out of trouble while I bring the bags upstairs.”
Gran grins and swats at me with the wooden spoon she’s using to stir the large pot.
“Now, you have the room with the white enamel pitcher in it,” she says. “And Katie has the one with the violet door.”
I give her an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”
She looks sternly at me. “I see a ring on her finger, Darius Morrow, but it isn’t the kind that gives you permission to share a room in my house.”
For some reason I don’t quite fathom, Katie finds this outrageously amusing. She buries her face in the teacup to hide her laughter. When Gran turns back to the stove, I give her a warning look. I’ll make my way to her room, and no one will hear her screams when I spank her ass and make her come tonight, in this ancient, spacious mansion.
It’s so different here than the place I call home. The stairs are immaculately clean, the smell of lemon wood polish clean wafting through the air. A large vase of wildflowers christens a little table on the landing, the windows are wide open, and a warm southern breeze makes hand-sewn curtains flutter. My room is adjacent to Katie’s, and I quickly leave our bags before I go back downstairs.
It feels nice sitting beside Katie at the wooden table, and if I admit it, nicer than sitting at the fanciest high-top table in Vegas.
“It’s lovely here, Gran,” she says, then she leans into me and whispers, “She told me to call her Gran.” Katie’s eyes glow. She’s lapping this up.
“Thank you,” Gran says. “Darius, why don’t you take Katie for a stroll around the property while I finish getting dinner ready?” She gives me a big wink.
I stifle a groan but take Katie’s hand and lead her out the back door. Clean laundry flaps on a clothesline, and Gran has large tomato plants growing just outside her door, the ripe cherry tomatoes hanging low, ready to be picked. Katie leans down and breathes them in. “It smells so green.”
“Have you ever eaten one? Straight from the vine?”
She shakes her head in wonder. “I grew up in the city. Never.”
I pluck a cherry tomato and wipe it on my shirt. “Try it.”
She opens her mouth, her eyes on me seductive and coy. I slide it between her lips, my cock hardening. Who knew a garden tomato could be arousing?
She bites down, and her eyes roll back in her head. “Oh my God, that’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”
I tug a lock of her hair. I’ve tried hard to remain detached from her, but her love of life, her innocent joy and expressions, the unpretentious way about her, melts me.
We amble toward the fields, the sun beating down hot and relentless, but Katie doesn’t seem to mind it anymore. She squeals at the roughly hewn fence and field of wildflowers. “Oh, it’s a picture,” she says. “Isn’t it a picture, Darius? How could you ever leave such a place?”
My body tightens, and I look away, not answering at first. I can’t sum it all up in a sentence… the poverty I grew up with, the betrayal from Tiffany, the loss of my parents and younger brother.
“I didn’t grow up here,” I say simply. “Remember, I bought this for Gran later.”
“Oh, right,” she says, oblivious to whatever torment from my past might be written on my features. She gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. “Is that a barn?”
Her childlike enthusiasm is adorable. “Yeah, baby. You want to go see?”
She’s already running up ahead of me. I have to trot to keep up with her.
“Are there any animals here?” she says, looking around the barn.