Author: S.E. Law
Category: Young Adult
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/5033_17
“Hi, can I come in?” I asked in what I hoped was a normal tone.
His shock was almost as great as mine, but he stepped away silently to allow me admittance. I entered the foyer and tentatively looked around, trying to hide my surprise. His apartment was amazing. Heavy white rugs carpeted the polished marble floors, and his living room was decorated with black, low-slung leather couches. An Art Deco chandelier dripped from the ceiling, and even the small tables scattered about looked like they were pieces of art.
“Come in,” he growls. “Can I get you a drink?”
Tentatively, I sit on the nearest couch and spread my skirt over my knees.
“Yes, please. Water would be great.”
Whispers: Interactive StoriesMake your own choices and decide what happens next!
He disappears into what I assume is the kitchen, and then reappears with a tall glass in his hand before handing it to me. My pulse races and my cheeks flush when our fingers brush. Oh my gosh, can he feel it too? But Patrick’s navy eyes give nothing away, and his dark features remain stormy. I swallow. This man must hate me for some reason or other, and now I’m about to deliver the biggest news of his life.
10
Patrick
“So how can I help you?” I ask in a growl, lowering myself onto the couch across from Penny. Although my demeanor is gruff, inside my heart is racing. She’s here! The woman that I’ve thought non-stop about for the past year, is right here in my living room, not ten feet away. I want to catch her up in my arms and press kisses to every exposed inch of her flesh, but this isn’t the time for that. Clearly, Penny’s nervous and her pink pout trembles invitingly, even as she opens it to speak.
“Well, I have some news for you, Patrick.”
I nod, my eyes fixed ravenously on her beautiful face and curvy figure. Has she put on weight? She looks amazing, and even more lush and curvy than I remember.
“Yes? What is it?” I growl. I wish I could stop acting like an animal, but the emotions in my chest are relentless. I want to jump up and scream, before cuddling her curves against my hardness. I want to bundle Penny up before taking her to Paris, and showing her the lights. I want to keep her close by me for the rest of her life, but is that what she wants too?
She bites her lip uncertainly, those brown eyes sliding left and then right before focusing on a lamp next to the sofa.
“Well, you see, ever since we met last year, things have been complicated,” she begins. “I never thought we’d meet, and then when we bumped into one another at Lancaster Industries, it was very interesting.”
I stare at her.
“We did more than bump,” is my rough answer.
She blushes.
“We did,” she acknowledges, “and that’s why I’m here now, in fact. I wanted to talk with you about –”
“Spit it out,” I command roughly. “No bullshit, Penny.”
Her chin jerks up as she looks in my eyes, but then she composes herself while spreading her skirt on her knees once more.
“Well, you see, I got pregnant from our “bumping,” so to say, and I wanted to let you know that you have a son now, Patrick. His name is Georgie, and he’s the cutest thing. I thought you might want to know.”
I don’t even know how to describe the rush of emotions that assault me then. There was confusion, rage, ecstasy, anger, disbelief, and then finally, a great dawning awareness.
“You what?” I ask, as I slowly rise from my chair to tower over her.
To her credit, Penny remains calm.
“You have a son, Patrick. He’s three months old now, and as cute as a button. I thought you might like to know, seeing that you’re getting married soon.”
I ignore the second half of her statement because suddenly, the world has gone simultaneously dark and light at once. I have a son, whom I’ve never met before. He’s three months old, and has never had a father in his life. Emotion courses through my veins, and I feel faint, yet also filed with an incredible urgency. I have to meet Georgie Lancaster, my son, NOW.
11
Penny
The thunder growing on Patrick’s face is so dark that it’s terrifying. His black brows lower and the blue sharpness of his eyes become so pointed that I lose my breath.
But Patrick isn’t one to lose it. Instead, he grabs his keys and bolts for the door before spinning on one heel and barking out, “Are you coming?”
Immediately, I get up and snatch my purse, trailing him as he stalks over to the elevator.
“But where are we going?” I ask. “It’s late on a Saturday night. Did you want to go out?”
Patrick ignores me as we ride the elevator down to the garage. He presses the key fob, and a loud chirp from a shiny red Maserati sounds out in return. He strides over to the car, as I trail along in his wake, almost running and definitely out of my breath. To my heart’s dismay, I see Marina’s flashy yellow Lamborghini parked right next to the Maserati. Oh. So she really is getting married to Patrick.