“So, you’re a millionaire.”
She had no idea of my net worth. “Hundreds of millions, Sunny. Closing in on bill—”
She held up her hand, stopping my words. She grimaced, her voice shaky. “So, we’re even more unevenly matched than before.”
I tilted my chin in agreement. “You’re right. We are. You’re far more valuable than I am.”
“Yep. My biscuits make me wealthier than you can imagine,” she snarked.
“I’m not talking monetary value. Your soul does, Sunny. We’re unevenly matched because you’re a far better person than I am. Your goodness is priceless. My wealth has come with a cost I can never repay.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I lost something I don’t think I will ever get back. I always disliked the way my father treated people, the games he played. Yet, I find that I enjoy this particular game of destroying any mark he has ever made on this earth. Erasing him. The hatred I have for him burns inside me. It has been the central focus of my life since the day he took me from you.”
She paled, her already ivory complexion becoming almost white. “I don’t like to see the hate you carry inside, Linc. It frightens me.”
I hurried across the room, dropping to my knees in front of her. “Don’t you see, Sunny? The hate is why I have to do this. He hated and made others suffer. I’m using my hate for him to help people.”
“What happens when there is no one left here for you to help, Linc? What will you do with that hate then?”
Her question hung in the air, the words heavy.
“I keep hoping it drains away,” I admitted.
“It won’t unless you allow it to.”
“Then I’ll help more people. I already do, but on a lesser scale. I also run a very successful financial business. My company supports a lot of charities.” I edged closer, taking her hand. “I hate him, Sunny. He is the only black spot in my heart. I won’t become him.” Our gazes locked, and I reached up with my free hand to cup her cheek, stroking the skin in gentle circles. “If I have you, I could never be him. You bring too much warmth into my life.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility, Linc.”
“I think you’re up for the challenge.” I softened my voice. “I hope you are. I need you in my life.”
She leaned into my touch. Then in a typical Sunny move, changed the subject. “Hotels aren’t very comfortable for long-term stays.”
“Better than my car,” I smirked and stood. I knew she needed me to step away and break the dark mood that had descended.
“There’s an empty apartment across the hall.”
I frowned. “There is?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you know the layouts of your buildings, Linc?” she teased.
“Too many of them.” I shot back with a wink.
She stood. “Come and see.”
Across the hall was a duplicate apartment to Sunny’s. It was furnished simply, but it was light and airy and meticulously clean.
“I was planning on trying to rent it in the summer,” she explained. “I’ve been slowly getting it ready.” She cleared her throat. “You could stay here. There are two bedrooms. Abby would be safe over the shop, and it’s more comfortable than a hotel room. It has a kitchen and everything…” Her voice trailed off as I stared at her. “What?”
“You’d be okay with me sharing a place with Abby?”
She shrugged. “Better than the sofa. Plus, you said she was like a sister.”
“She is.”
“Then I have to trust you. And her. If she is as important to you as you say, then I need to get to know her. The back door leading up here is steel and has a good lock on it. The only other way up to this floor is through the kitchen, so she can use that entrance and always be safe. If you’re busy, I’m right here. She won’t be alone.” She traced a pattern on the counter, not meeting my eyes. “And you’d be close.”
I move nearer to her. “I’d like that.”
The air between us warmed. I traced her cheek, trailing my fingertips over her soft skin. “Be my light, Sunny. I need that. I need you.”
“What if it’s not enough?” She swallowed, her voice quivering. “What if I’m not enough?”
“You are.”
She wrapped her hand around my wrist. “Try to let go of the hate, Linc.”
“If I have you, I will try. I promise.”
She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. “Stay here. Close to me.”
“Are biscuits included in the rent?”
Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “Yes.”
I dropped my voice, my mouth hovering above hers. “Are kisses?”
“Maybe,” she whispered, her eyes locked on my mouth.
“I’ll take it.”
Then I kissed her.The next morning, Abby stumbled out of the bedroom, looking half asleep. She fisted the mess of curls on her head, mumbling one word.
“Coffee.”
With a smirk, I handed her a cup—strong and black—the way she liked. She took it with a grateful look and sat on the sofa, sipping. I let her wake up a little more. She had never been a morning person. At the institution, she was always the last to show up for breakfast, and often missed it.