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Morgan’s smile dropped. “Wait, forty thousand a month?” Her eyes moved back and forth as she did the mental math. “You get almost half a million a year from your trust fund?”
I smirked. “Did I never tell you how my granddaddy made his money?”
“No. You didn’t.”
“Oil. My father learned a lot from his father-in-law, so invested in oil too. Between them, they made more money than they knew what to do with. Dad really doesn’t even have to practice medicine anymore. He does it because it’s truly his passion.”
She looked up at me like what I had told her made no difference in the world.
“Morgan, you’re not even batting an eye. I don’t even have to work if I don’t want to.”
With a small shrug, she
replied, “I knew your family had money, but that makes no difference to me, Blake. I love you for you. Not your pocketbook.”
“I could design you your dream home and pay cash for it. That means nothing to you?”
“No,” she said with a chuckle. “The only home I dream of is one with us and maybe a kid or two. A dog, two cats, and lots and lots of bird feeders.”
My eyes went to the living room window, where Morgan had hung three feeders. She loved her birds, and someday I would buy her enough land so she could have as many feeders up as she wanted.
“I think I can make that happen. But you know we can’t stay in my place after we get married?”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Married?”
“Yeah. It’s too small. Who wants to raise kids in the middle of Austin?” I looked around her cute little house. “Then there’s your place. It’s not big enough to have kids and animals. We’ll need more room.”
When I looked back at her, she was staring in disbelief. “You’ve thought about this? About . . . marrying me?”
“I have. I told you, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, princess.”
Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. Then opened, then shut again. She was about to say something when the doorbell rang.
“Wait, I . . . we . . . wait.”
I was confused as I watched her walk to the door. Didn’t all women dream about getting married and having kids?
Morgan looked out the peephole and then gasped.
“What in the world?” she said, throwing the door open.
I stood and saw a large guy standing in the doorway. His hair was cut into a military buzz, and the fucker was built like a brick house.
“Jarod? What are you doing here?”
He reached down and picked her up, swinging her around before placing her back down. A part of me wanted to knock the shit out of him for touching her, but the other part was curious as hell about who the guy was. There was no way he was a patient.
Jarod looked past Morgan and smiled bigger when he saw me.
“You must be Blake.”
I frowned. Who is this guy, and how in the hell does he know who I am?
As Morgan motioned for Jarod to come in, I made my way toward them and extended my hand.
“Jarod, this is my boyfriend, Blake Greene.”
His grip wasn’t too tight, but he was no pussy either.
