Knight (Unfinished Hero #1)(74)

“Love you, babe,” he said, throwaway. My stomach clenched and dropped and my heart squeezed because he meant it but said it in a way like I already knew it. “Love you,” he repeated. “But that’s f**ked.”

I powered through the fact that he loved me.

Loved me!

And I stuck with the current matter at hand.

“Knight, honey, you did this all on your own.” I flicked a hand out to indicate the club. “Can’t you get me?”

His head cocked to the side and he said, “I did not f**kin’ do all this on my own.”

I blinked.

Then I asked, “What?”

“Babe, do you have any clue how much it costs to set up a place like this?”

I totally didn’t.

“No.”

“A f**kin’ lot,” he told me. “I had a silent partner. He was the capital, I was the face. He existed to drive me up the f**kin’ wall. I did all the work. He shoved his nose in, f**ked things up. Repeatedly. He did not get the concept of ‘silent’ no matter how often or what tactics I used to explain. Couple of years in, I was done with him drivin’ me up the wall. I made moves, took over, forced him out. Hostile. Though, I was thorough and he was half ass**le, half idiot. Didn’t put up much of a fight. Now I own the club outright and he lives in Costa Rica with three local women who, sources say, regularly get in catfights not for his attention but for his generosity ‘cause he’s still got more money than sense. One of his bright ideas for this place was female mud wrestling. He’s havin’ the time of his life.”

I felt my lips quirk and I asked, “Female mud wrestling?”

“Like I said, the dude is half ass**le, half idiot.”

I started giggling.

Knight didn’t find anything funny.

“I’m tired of you crawlin’ out of bed three hours after I joined you in it. I’m tired of classes and client nights and Saturdays which means I cannot have dinner with my woman but once a week. And bottom line, I’m not gonna sit back and watch my woman work her ass off when I can do something about it. You need to lose the day job.”

“Knight –”

“You can’t not accept because that’s unacceptable,” he cut me off. “You put notice in, no more than two weeks, Anya. And you spend your time with that bossy bitch who likes to spend money and move your clients to days. And your nights, before I have to take off, are spent with me. You design the spa you want. You decide how you’re gonna play it. We market it to get you clients. And I cover all that and your rent and living expenses until you get that show on the road.”

“Knight –”

“This isn’t a discussion.”

“Knight!” I shouted.

“What?” he clipped.

“Okay, but I have twenty thousand dollars saved for when I was gonna start my spa and I handle my rent and living expenses until I get that show on the road. And you keep track of what you spend and when I start turning a profit, we’ll set up a schedule for me paying you back.”

This was the wrong thing to say and I knew by the hard look that settled on his face.

“You don’t pay someone back for a gift, Anya.”

“But this is too much,” I replied carefully.

“When a gift is given, isn’t that for the person who’s giving it to say?”

Damn, he had a point.

“I –”

He interrupted me again to rap out, “You happy?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“In a way you know it’s gonna last?”

He asked that because he was happy in a way he knew it was going to last.

My heart turned over and I stared at him. Then I looked over my shoulder at his window, not able to see my party but knowing it was there.

A party he gave to me.

Mr. Sebring.

I looked back at him.

“I’m in love with you, so yes.”

He closed his eyes and he did it slowly, dropping his head.

That meant something to him.

I stared at him. Tall, broad, strong, scary, dude you don’t mess with Knight Sebring, head bowed, overcome.

No, I was wrong.

It meant everything to him.

My nose began to sting.

He opened his eyes and looked up, catching mine.

“Come here, baby.”

I moved back into his arms.

“Please let me give this to you,” he whispered.

“I can’t now nor will I ever be in the position to give you –”

He squeezed me quiet and his face dipped close. “Toasted almond pancakes. Sweet soft ‘okays’. Makin’ me laugh more in a few weeks than I have in decades. ‘Yes, Daddys’ I feel in my dick. The first voicemail you left me, babe, I saved it and I listen to it once a day. If I lose focus, I see you on your back, knees high, legs wide, offering your sweet, wet pu**y to me. You smile at me in bed every time you wander outta my bedroom in my shirts, my tees or your work clothes and honest to Christ, it sets me up for the day. And no matter what shit goes down, I get through it knowin’ whichever bed I climb into at night, you’re in it ready to snuggle into me or give me what I wanna take. Your girl, a headache. You, never. And in a life that’s been full of headaches, babe, having that, there is no price tag. You gotta get it and do it right f**kin’ now that there’s a lotta different kinds of give and take. And you give as good as you get, baby, trust me.”