Page 69 of The Himbo and the Lord

“I am.”

“Why?” he asks suspiciously.

“Because nothing they could say or do will affect our relationship. We’re solid, you and me. But I do want them to like me. I think I can break your father down with enough time, and we have time, don’t we?”

He stops the car at a crossroad and stares at me like I’m an alien for a long moment, then that beautiful smile takes over his face.

“We do have time,” he murmurs. “And I promise I’ll win over your family as well when we go in autumn for Thanksgiving.”

The way he promises that, so earnestly and adorable as always, melts my insides.

“Please, you just have to talk and Mom’s gonna swoon at your accent, and my sister will start having doubts about her fiancé. And my father already loves you. When I talk to your family I bet they think I’m a hillbilly or something.”

Ru laughs out loud at that, which just proves my point.

“Just remind Father of your Aunt Shirley and he’ll forget all about your origins in the deep south.”

I push his shoulder a little and he accelerates again.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, still laughing, but he snatches my hand to his. “You know, I think Father might like you if you don’t threaten him with your contacts.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say, mock-dismissively. I know he doesn’t believe a word because he laughs again, long and loud, andI love it.

I love him so fucking much that I feel a physical need to tell him. So when he makes a turn into what seems like a huge driveway, I do.

“I love you, my lord.”

He stops the car again, turns his head quickly, and kisses me hard. I love that he’s so free.

“Love you, my smart himbo,” he murmurs. I know he’s trying to be cute and romantic, like when I call him my lord, but... a snort escapes me.

“That’s an oxymoron, Ru,” I point out and he huffs, then the car’s moving again.

* * *

The lord is not impressedwith me.

I knew it would be like that, but it’s still a bummer. He barely looks at me when I shake his hand, and then he sits back down and asks Ru something about work. That’s a dismissal if I’ve ever heard one.

Thankfully, though, Petra and Ru’s mother are there and I charm the hell out of those women.

By the time the butler—he has to be the butler, right?—calls us for dinner, everyone’s silent to the point that it could be considered awkward, but Ru takes my hand and pulls a chair out for me, then takes my hand again under the table and rests it on his thigh. The silence continues as dinner is served, until Ru’s father breaks it.

“I had another talk with my doctor,” Chester announces out of fucking nowhere. Everyone at the table freezes after we turn to look at him. He’s clearly pretending we didn’t, though, and keeps eating. “He informed me the last few weeks where I’ve had more rest have done wonders for my heart, but that I need more recovery time. More... prolonged recovery time,” he hedges. After a long pause he turns to Ru and nods decisively. “I appointed you interim CEO while this was going on, but you’ll be promoted to CEO by the end of next week.”

Like that’s all the information we need?

Ru deserves more than that, dammit!

He deserves for his father to tell him how much he trusts him and how amazing he’s been doing without him at the office. He deserves to hear that his father’s proud of him.

“That’s great news, my dear,” Ru’s mother says, and by her smile I suspect it’s genuine. “We’ll spend more time here at the estate with more fresh air and you’ll be better in no time.”

“Yes, well...” Chester trails off and that’s it.

That’s it?

I want to shout the question, but Ru’s hard grip on my hand stops me.

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