The Virgin’s Baby E-Book

Michelle Love

• Herausgeber: Michelle Love
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Deathbed demands don’t get crazier than this—pop out an heir or kiss my fortune goodbye.
I’m a billionaire who plays dirty, not a daddy. She’s the pick—stunning, innocent, and mad as hell at me.
A contract says she’ll give me a kid; a last-minute twist says she’s my wife too.
She’s never been touched, never felt the rush, and I’m the bastard to show her.
She fights me at every turn, but her heat’s melting that ice.
I’ve got wealth, power, and a baby on the way—she’s got my ring and a fire I can’t tame.
This marriage might break me, but I don’t lose what’s mine.

Keywords: Guaranteed HEA, no cliffhangers, happily ever after. billionaire, bad boy, office romance, steamy romance, contemporary romance, love books, love stories, new adult, alpha male, romance, action, adventure, steamy romance, small-town secrets, hot, alpha hero. free book, free novels, romantic novels, and sexually romantic books.

Leseprobe

THE VIRGIN’S BABY

A FORCED MARRIAGE ROMANCE

MICHELLE LOVE

THE SONS OF SIN 2

CONTENTS

Blurb

1. Ransom

2. Aspen

3. Ransom

4. Aspen

5. Ransom

6. Aspen

7. Ransom

8. Aspen

9. Ransom

10. Aspen

11. Ransom

12. Aspen

13. Ransom

14. Aspen

15. Ransom

16. Aspen

17. Ransom

18. Aspen

19. Ransom

20. Aspen

21. Ransom

22. Aspen

23. Ransom

24. Aspen

25. Ransom

26. Aspen

27. Ransom

28. Aspen

29. Ransom

30. Aspen

Sneak Peek - His Secret Virgin

Sign Up to Receive Free Books

About the Author

©Copyright 2022 by Michelle Love - All rights Reserved

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights are reserved.

Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

Created with Vellum

BLURB

Having a stranger’s baby wasn’t a thing I’d ever dreamt of doing…

As a busy college student, I didn’t have time for the opposite sex.

The center of my world was my approaching career.

Until he came along.

Stimulating. Virile. Obsessive.

I was supposed to have his baby and nothing more.

Only, he wanted much more than I could give.

His slightest touch turned me into a puddle of melting flesh.

If I allowed it, he would own me—body and soul.

I would give him his heir, but never my heart.

1

RANSOM

Ibiza, Spain – May 9th

Waves rolled in on the pristine white sand; the water placidly reflected the clear blue sky. Paradise is what we came for, and my friends and I were not disappointed. With females everywhere you turned wearing next to nothing, it made our vacation—our perpetual vacation—even better.

Dumphy raised his hand between us, awaiting a high-five from me.

“Give it to me, Ransom. Did I pick the perfect place to spend the next month or what?”

Not one to leave a friend hanging, I gave him the gesture he deserved.

“That you did, Dumphy.” Charles Mason Dumphy was one of the wealthiest sons-of-bitches on the planet. He’d called me up one day, telling me that he’d heard there was a ton of action in Ibiza, Spain, and that we needed to go.

Gathering a couple more friends, Vick and Alejandro, I made us into the Fearsome Foursome once again. Our little pack liked to spend money, have as much fun as humanly possible, and bag all the babes we could. We had month-long vacations four times a year. And we all took turns picking out the places to go.

Summer was just beginning, and I was certain it would be a great one. Lying on the beach, watching the beauties parading past proved better than watching any movie ever.

Vick leaned up on his elbows, lifting his glass of Hierbas Ibicencas, an Ibiza tradition. Holding it up, he toasted, “To Ransom’s thirtieth birthday. May the next decade be as good to you as this one was.”

Sitting up, I picked up my drink, a smooth-tasting Frígola, but paused, allowing the other guys to grab their drinks before we clinked glasses of assorted alcoholic bliss together and said in unison, “Salud!”

Turning thirty wasn’t a thing I was too worried about. Being first in our group to make this journey into the next decade, I would lead my lifelong friends, much the same way as I’ve always done, into the next phase of life.

Being the kind of guy I was, I wasn’t making any changes. I would simply sit back and see where life took me, the way I always had. It had worked so far; why not just keep things the way they were?

Alejandro pulled his aviator-style sunglasses down, looking over their rims at me. “You know it’s common to get married and start a family by your age, Ransom.”

All I could do was laugh. “Not me, buddy. Not this guy.” I jabbed my thumb to my bare chest since I was clad in swimming trunks and nothing else. Displaying your body for all to see was the thing to do at the busy beach.

Vick shook his head then laid back down on the sand. “I’m with you, Ransom. Bachelors forever.”

“Damn right,” I agreed then laid back down, too, to continue letting the sun’s rays bronze my body—a body I worked damn hard on. Daily workouts and a protein-filled diet had me looking the best I’d ever looked.

Turning thirty wasn’t going to get me down. No sir!

Dumphy got up, dusting sand off his ass. “I’m going to grab us another round and find out where the party’s at tonight. We’ve got to celebrate the big guy’s birthday in style.”

My birthday.

It got me thinking about my accomplishments in the last twenty years. I’d graduated from high school by the skin of my teeth, but that was only because I didn’t care much about making good grades. Girls were my focus in those years. Puberty had a big impact on me, hitting me—and my cock—hard. That thing stayed stiff for the better part of five years.

In my twenties, I began to refine my tastes instead of feasting on just any female. A certain type began to attract me. It didn’t make sense to my friends; they always pursued the ultra-gorgeous girls. But me? I liked my girls on the lower end of the scale.

Anywhere from a two to a five made my dick hard. I had my reasons. I’d been through many a beautiful girl in my time. They all had one thing in common: they tried to rule me with their beauty rather than their pussies.

I wasn’t a man to be ruled anyway. And I didn’t much care to rule a woman either. I liked to live life free as a bird. .

With four new drinks in his meaty fists, Dumphy came back with his news: “Amnesia is where it’s going down tonight, my amigos.”

I accepted my drink from him. “Sounds like a plan, man. I’m down for losing my memory on this thirtieth birthday.”

Vick took his drink from Dumphy. “Me too.” He took a sip and then raised it up high. “To tonight and to getting blown up!”

We all raised our glasses. “Salud!”

Wide hips, a round ass, and tits that barely fit into the hot-pink bikini top sashayed up to me. I didn’t bother looking all the way up to her face. “You guys goin’ to Amnesia later?” She had a southern twang—a thing I liked, being from Texas.

“We are.” I answered as I scanned her body all the way up to her face. Blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head made her face appear even rounder than it was.

Purposely, she ran her hand over one tit. “Maybe we’ll see ya there.” Her head jerked back as she gestured to her friends. “We might come out there tonight.” Plump cheeks, red from the sun, went plumper as she smiled. With her dark sunglasses, I had no idea what color her eyes were—not that it mattered.

The only thing that mattered to me was how plump her body was. I liked meat on a girl. Running my hands over bones didn’t excite me at all. But an odd thing came out of my mouth, even though I was totally considering boning her: “You girls be careful now. There are a lot of men out there who might not treat you very well.”

Where did that come from?

I sounded like some old dude! Not a thing I wanted to sound like. And I caught my friends looking at me with puzzled expressions.

Vick asked, “You okay there, birthday boy?”

Am I?

Looking at the drink in my hand, I thought maybe I’d had too much. I placed it on the sand next to me. “Sure. I just thought she ought to be careful and not go putting herself out there to just anyone…” Looking back at her, I noticed crinkled lines on her forehead above her glasses. She must’ve thought I was kind of crazy.

“Yeah, anyway,” she turned to walk away. “Just forget it, dude.”

Her ass shook as she hurried away. The sight should’ve made me hot for her. It should’ve made me get up and chase after her, tell her that I was just fucking around with her, ask her if she wanted to see my hotel room.

But all I did was lay back on the sand and wonder what the hell was wrong with me. It hadn’t been but fifteen hours since I’d turned thirty, and there I was already saying stupid shit.

Alejandro bumped his shoulder to mine. “Hey, aren’t you one of those guys who doesn’t treat women very well, Ransom?”

I didn’t think I treated women badly. I just basically gave them a great fucking and then sent them on their way. What’s so bad about that?

Before I could answer, Dumphy had to put his two cents in, “Yeah, dude. You sent that chick running. I mean I would’ve sent her on too. She’s not so easy on the eyes. But you? You usually don’t mind the ones none of us will give the time of day to. She was a total three. Right up your alley.”

When Vick chimed in with: “Yeah, dude, what’s up with you?” I sat up, not ready to listen to any more of their shit.

Looking over at the girl I’d run off, I found her busy chatting it up with another guy.

“Look, I don’t know why I said that to her. But just look at her. She’s going up to anybody. She has no idea how easy she’s making it for some asshole to take her and do whatever he wants with her.”

“Yeah,” Alejandro agreed, “But isn’t that the way we like ’em? Easy?”

While the others laughed, I laid back down, thinking that they were juveniles.

Juveniles?

When the hell did this start happening to me?

I just needed to get drunk. Not think. Stay true to myself. The way I always had.

For the rest of the day, I made sure to not say too much to any of the girls who stopped by to say hi and ask where we’d be going later. At least none of them ended up running away from me like I was some old man who only wanted to watch out for them.

When I got back to my hotel room, I looked long and hard at myself in the mirror. When I smiled, I noticed laugh lines around my mouth. When I frowned, I noticed wrinkles on my forehead.

Note to self: Don’t frown too often.

When I laughed, my eyes scrunched up, and those lines became crazy-visible.

No laughing either.

Pulling my trunks off, I stepped into the shower. Washing sand and grit off my skin with the thick bodywash, I felt my toned, hard body. At least you can’t tell my age from my muscular physique. I’ll have to work harder to keep my face from aging too much too quickly.

Looking at the bottle of sunscreen sitting on the vanity, I vowed to lather my face with it a few times each day, especially when spending the day out in the sun.

Staying young looking had never even occurred to me before. It wasn’t as if I was old or anything. So why did I suddenly feel like time might be slipping away from me?

I went back to thinking about my accomplishments and added in the bachelor’s degree in petroleum engineering from Texas Tech in Lubbock—a degree I’d never used a day in my life.

The family business was oil, so I got a degree in it to make everyone happy. That degree had sealed my future as a wealthy man. It was the one stipulation my grandfather, who’d raised me after my parents were killed when I was fifteen, demanded in order for me to inherit the fortune he’d amassed.

I had found a loophole in his demand, however. He’d never said I had to get a job after graduating. So, I never bothered to look. I just took the bank card he gave me and went on vacation. Over and over again. One vacation after another.

The hotel phone rang, and I figured it was one of the guys asking if I was ready to head out to the club. When I picked up the phone, I was surprised to find my grandfather’s personal assistant on the other end of the line. “Ransom, your grandfather doesn’t know I’m making this call to you,” Mr. Davenport said in a whisper.

My blood ran cold. “Is he okay?”

My grandfather wasn’t young anymore. He had lost some of the robust strength he’d had when he took over raising me. But he wasn’t old at seventy either—and his health had always been pretty good.

“No, he’s not,” came his reply. “You need to come home, Ransom. Don’t wait. Come as soon as you can.”

God, don’t make me lose him too.

2

ASPEN

Lubbock, Texas – May 9th

The sun blazed down on me as I made the long walk to the post office to check my mail. A warm breeze made the afternoon seem hotter than it had been the day before.

Lubbock wasn’t exactly paradise, but it was the only place I’d ever lived. Somehow, I’d never gotten used to the oppressive heat, but I had learned how to dress for the summer weather. Shorts and a cotton T-shirt along with flip-flops made it bearable. My thick dark curls had to be pulled up into a high ponytail to keep it off my neck.

Climbing up the stairs of the post office, I passed one of my professors.

“Afternoon, Aspen. It’s a nice day today, don’t you think?” Professor Sampson asked me. She’d been one of my favorites in last semester’s classes. Natural gas engineering seemed easy when she was teaching.

Stopping to chat for a sec, I said, “It’s a pretty nice day for Lubbock. But wouldn’t a tropical beach be a heck of a lot better on a day like this?”

Nodding, she agreed. “I bet it would. Did you make any summer plans?”

“Work, work, and then some more work,” I said with a laugh. I didn’t have the funds for any kind of vacation. “How about you?”

“Me and the hubby are going to Cancun in June. We’ll be there a whole week.” She waved her hand in front of her face to fan it. “I can’t wait to get there.”

“And you’ll probably hate leaving there too,” I added with a smile. I knew I would’ve hated to.

“Most likely,” she said with a nod. “Well, I better let you get to it then. Bye, Aspen.”

“Bye.” I made my way to the door. Opening it, I felt a burst of cool air waft over me as I walked in. Taking my time so I could cool off before making the hot trek back to the apartment I shared with another girl, I wandered around the large building.

A USPS poster advertising their latest stamps drew my attention. Birds were the theme: pretty little birds on tiny branches that made me smile.

I wasn’t your ordinary twenty-three-year-old college student. Little things made me happy. I wasn’t into partying either, unlike so many of the people at school here.

Even though I was approached to pledge at a few different sororities, I never had an interest. It was important to me to not just make good grades, but to make great ones. Living with a houseful of hormone-crazed girls sounded like poison to me, a surefire way to kill my chances of successfully gaining a master’s degree in petroleum engineering.

Box 954 was just to the right of the poster. Tapping in the combination, I opened the small box to find it filled with letters. It had been a week since I had checked the mail.

One envelope in particular made me anxious. My bank statement.

My bills weren’t high, but my part-time job didn’t pay well at all. With my half of the rent, electric, water, and cable totaling five hundred dollars a month along with an average hundred spent on food each week, usually a whopping fifty bucks was left to be deposited into the college fund account my father started for me.

That bank account had slowly dwindled after four and a half years of college. I used it exclusively to pay for classes, books, and other things I needed for school. It had been six months since I had the courage to open a statement to see what was left.

Peeking around the busy post office, I decided not to open the envelope for fear I might burst into tears in front of these people. I stuffed it into my bag and headed back to my apartment.

I looked at the rest of the mail as I walked home. Three credit card offers were tossed into the first trash can I passed. Dad had counseled me to never get a credit card. He said you can end up paying double—even triple—the amount for something when you figure in all the interest.

There was also an invitation to join the Lubbock First Baptist Church. I looked sourly at it; it was the eighth missive this year. My father had been a member of that church, an infrequent attendee, but still a member. And Dad made me go along with him on most of those occasions. I just wasn’t a fan of sitting and listening to anyone talk on about a book.

It confused me that so many people had different interpretations of what the words in the Bible meant. Why would anyone need another person to decipher the written words to them?

I didn’t need it. And I didn’t like to waste an hour or two listening to anyone do such a mundane thing.

Tossing that letter into the next trash can along my walk, I thought about how no one from my father’s church had reached out after Dad died in an oilfield accident. No one came around at all. Not even when I was forced to leave our house because of foreclosure. Not even when Dad’s truck and my car were repossessed.

All Dad had in his bank account when he died was a couple of thousand dollars. The bank let me have it after a month of waiting. I paid our bills for that month and bought some food, but that was it; there wasn’t any more money coming in after that.

I had to find a job—a thing my father tried so hard to keep me from doing. He wanted me to go to school and focus completely on my education. And I was successfully doing that up until my third year of college, when Dad was killed by an exploding oil well. Afterwards, things changed for me.

He’d made contributions to my college fund with each paycheck. I wouldn’t have had a problem at all if he’d survived. But he didn’t, and here I was.

With no mother in the picture, I was all alone. I had no memories of her. She left my father before I’d turned a year old—and she never came back.

While working evenings at a nearby Dairy Queen, I walked to and from my childhood home until the bank came to lock it up. Luckily, my coworker Margo needed a roomie, and she let me stay in her little one-bedroom apartment.

During that time, I made her couch my home and tried not to get in her way. Eventually, together we made the move into a two-bedroom, splitting the bills. It worked out okay. She and I got along well enough.

Arriving to the front door, I held onto the only piece of mail left: the bank statement. Pausing a beat before opening the door, I looked up and said, “Please let this be good news.” I didn’t care for church, but I did believe in God.

The door flew open, and Margo nearly ran into me as she walked out. “Whoa! Aspen, I didn’t know you were right here.”

I stepped to the side. “Yeah. I went to get the mail.” I held up the envelope. “My college bank account statement has come in, and this time I’ve got to see how much is left. I can’t throw it away without looking at it. Not with next semester’s classes coming up in a few months.”

Clucking her tongue, she started walking away from me. “Didn’t you say that you needed about twenty grand for them?”

“Yeah,” I muttered. I was fairly positive I wouldn’t see anywhere near that amount left in the account.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.” Unlocking the chain from her bicycle, she hopped on. “I’ve got a double shift at the Queen today. And afterward, I’m going out with a couple of girls. If you want to join us, you’re more than welcome, Aspen.”

She knew what my answer would be before I even said it, “No thanks.” I walked into the small apartment, not loving the fact that it felt just as stifling as outside.

We only used our air conditioning at night when we slept, and it was turned off as soon as we got up. Being poor meant not using any unnecessary anything. That included electricity, food, water, and even shampoo and soap.

My life changed so drastically after Dad died. He’d made great money in the oilfield, but the thing about working in that field is that the people tended to buy a lot of things on payments.

Sure, he had a very expensive four-wheel-drive truck. And that truck had hefty payments that couldn’t be made without his income. Everything was that way. One by one, I lost it all, even the furniture that filled our three-bedroom brick home. Everything had been financed; nothing was paid for. I found it a bit hypocritical of my father to tell me never to get a credit card when he financed everything he’d bought.

Flopping down on the couch, I stared at that envelope for a long time before finally opening it.

Okay, let’s just do this.

The first page greeted me and thanked me for being a loyal customer of Friend’s Bank in Lubbock, Texas.

My cell rang, and I stopped what I was doing to pull it out of my pocket. Flipping it open—I couldn’t afford a smartphone—I answered, “Hello?” The writing on the miniature screen was too small for me to read without my reading glasses, a pair I’d picked up at the dollar store a few months back.

“Aspen, hi,” my boss said. Mrs. Pepper had always been very good to all of us. She didn’t pay well, but she was very nice to everyone who worked for her.

She didn’t call me often. I immediately assumed she called to ask me to come into work even though I wasn’t scheduled.

“Did you need me to come in, Mrs. Pepper? I’m not busy. I can if you need me to.”

“Um…no,” she hesitated before going on. “You see, Aspen, I’ve got some news. I’m telling every one of you girls who work here about this today. Since you’re not scheduled to come in, I didn’t want to make you walk down here to hear what I have to say.”

My heart was sinking. This news was not going to be good. “Thank you for that consideration, Mrs. Pepper. So, what’s this news you have for us?”

“You remember my son, Gerald, right?” she asked.

I barely recalled his name. “Sure, I do.”

“Well, he and his wife just had triplets,” she went on.

Maybe she’s taking a little vacation. “Oh, wow. Well, congratulations on becoming a grandmother,” I offered. Things didn’t seem so glum then.

“Thank you, Aspen,” she continued. “So, you can imagine how hard things are going to be for him and his wife with three brand new babies, right?”

There’s that sinking feeling again. “Right.”

“And they live outside of Dallas. That’s a pretty good ways from here. A bit too far for me to keep up with this place.” She cleared her throat readying herself to hit me with the news I now assumed was going to be very bad.

“Okay,” I whispered, knowing the wind was about to be knocked out of me. “And just what does that mean, Mrs. Pepper?”

With a huff, she told me exactly what that meant. “Okay, here it is. I’ve gotta go out there tomorrow. I’ve already talked to a realtor who is going to put the building on the market and sell it for me. I’m closing down the Dairy Queen effective at nine o’clock tonight. I’m sorry, honey, I am. I’ve already written each of you glowing letters of recommendation. It’s all I can do. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” was all I could say. “Can you send mine with Margo, please?”

“I will,” she said happily like she hadn’t just messed up my world. “Good luck, Aspen. I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ve got that great education going for you. Don’t sell yourself short. Apply for the jobs that you need that degree to get, honey.”

“K. Bye.” Flipping my phone closed, I went ahead and looked at the second page of the bank statement. “Fifty-six dollars and thirteen cents.”

Fuck my life.

3

RANSOM

Lubbock, Texas – May 11th

Weird noises met my ears as I entered my grandfather’s bedroom suite. The first room, much like a living room and filled with leather furnishings, was empty. The door on the far wall led to his bedroom. Behind that, I heard what sounded like Darth Vader-breathing.

Giving the door a knock, I asked, “Grandad, you in there?”

After some shuffling sounds, the door opened. And there stood a young woman wearing lilac scrubs. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come back later. Mr. Whitaker is doing his breathing treatment at the moment. Give us thirty minutes, please.” Then she just closed the damn door in my face.

I knocked again then twisted the doorknob to find it locked. “What the fuck?”

Spinning on my heel when I heard footsteps behind me, I found my grandfather’s assistant coming in the front room. His eyebrows went up when he saw me. “Good, you came.”

I rubbed my brow as frustration swelled inside of me. “Mr. Davenport, what in the name of all that’s holy is going on here?”

“Have you been able to see him?” he asked, instead of answering my question.

“No. That woman wouldn’t let me in. And she’s locked the door.” I threw my hands in the air. “What’s going on? Just tell me already.”

His light blue eyes looked pleadingly at me. “I wish I could. Unfortunately, I’ve been told not to say a thing to you.” He wrung his old, wrinkled hands as he looked down at the floor. “Please, don’t tell him that I called you. I’m afraid he’ll fire me if you do. He was adamant that no one tell you a thing.”

“Fine.” I sat on the sofa, wondering what was happening. “I know how he can be.” My heart felt so heavy I thought it might fall out of my chest. “He’s all I’ve got, you know. After Mom and Dad were killed on their yacht off the African coast, he came to my boarding school to give me the horrible news. I went home with him, and he became both my mother and my father to me. I don’t know what I would do without him.” I looked at the man who’d been in my grandfather’s employ ever since I could recall. “Is this life-threatening?”

“I’m not saying another thing, Ransom. I can’t. Soon, you can talk to him and let him tell you what he wants to.” Mr. Davenport turned and left me sitting there alone, wondering what I was about to hear.

Closing my eyes, I remembered when my grandfather showed up at my dorm at boarding school. I was fifteen and never imagined he was there to bring me terrible news at all. He would come by unexpectedly on occasion to take me out to dinner or to see a movie.

That day he looked different. Pale, shaky, weak—not like my grandfather at all, really.

“Ransom, I’ve got terrible news to tell you, boy.”

I’d taken a seat on the edge of my bed. “Yes, sir. What is it?”

“My son…” he stopped talking and put his fist tightly against his mouth. Then he cleared his throat before going on. “My son was murdered. Your father and mother have been killed. Their bodies were found full of bullet holes off the African Coast. Their yacht has been taken. Pirates are believed to have done the evil deed.”

It was hard to believe the news he’d delivered to me that day. The sun was shining outside my window; the birds were chirping merrily. Shouldn’t it be storming outside? Didn’t the entire planet know my parents had been killed?

As I sat there waiting to see the old man, lost in my memories, I knew my grandfather would deliver his news much the same way as he’d done back then, fifteen years earlier—straight and to the point.

Internally, I prepared myself to hear it. I had never allowed myself to think about a time that would eventually come—the time when I would find myself alone in the world.

I prayed like crazy that I wasn’t about to find out that the time had come much sooner than I’d ever thought it would. I wasn’t ready to be alone yet.

Sure, I stayed away from home more often than I stayed at home. But I called my grandfather all the time, and he called me too. When I was home, we would do things together. But since I graduated from college, our outings grew more infrequent. Until suddenly, they dried up entirely.

I’ve wasted so much time.

Putting my face in my hands, I fought the urge to cry. I wasn’t the kind of man who cried. I laughed. I joked. I played around. I didn’t cry.

But those tears were burning the backs of my eyes so badly, I thought they might burst free for the first time since I’d lost Mom and Dad.

About a year after their murders, the last of my tears were shed, and I never cried again. And now here I was, trying to hold them back, even though I had no idea what kind of news my grandfather was going to give me.

Pulling my head up, I shook off my feeling of impending doom. I had no clue what I was about to be told. Why start mourning the man now?

The door to his bedroom opened, and the lady in the lilac scrubs came out. “You must be Ransom. Your grandfather has told me so much about you.” She smiled at me as she extended her hand.

I shook it. “He’s told me nothing about you.”

With a light laugh, she said, “I’m sure he hasn’t. I’m Daphne, his attendant. I’ll let him tell you the rest.” She walked away to leave us alone. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes or so. Don’t leave him unattended, please.”

“And why is that?” I asked her.

She didn’t answer; she just closed the outer door behind her, leaving me alone with my grandfather. I turned to walk into his bedroom, worried about the state I would find him in.

He lay in his large, oak four-post bed. A white comforter billowed around him making him look small and slight in the bed.

“Ransom?” he croaked.

“Yes, sir. It’s me.” I came to the side of his bed as he didn’t sit up.

His blue eyes were sunken back into his skull. It had only been a little over a month since I’d seen him last, and he’d lost a fair amount of weight in that short time. And much of his white hair was gone too.

When he pulled his hand out from under the blanket, I could see multiple bruises on top of it. At some time or another, he’d must’ve had IVs stuck in it. And he’d never told me a thing.

“Ransom, sit down.” He patted the bed beside him.

I took a seat on the edge, looking at him and hating what I saw. “Grandad, what’s happened to you? Did you have a stroke or something?”

He nodded, and it made me feel like crying again. “Yes, I did.”

“Why didn’t you have someone call me?” I couldn’t understand why he would do this to me.

“Ransom, I wanted you to come see me, but I didn’t want it to be because I was ill.” He ran his thin fingers over the back of my hand. “You’re always going, going, going. You need to put down some roots, my boy.”

“I’m good, Grandad. I’m really good. I have lots of fun,” I told him, hoping he could understand that I didn’t want to live the way he did, tied down to this place.

“Fun,” he said then harrumphed. “Fun has its place and time. But fun isn’t a way of life, boy.” He shook his head. “No—not, boy. Man. You are a man. Thirty years old now. I thought you might call or come by on your birthday. But you didn’t bother. You didn’t want to spend that special day of yours with your blood. I suppose you were with your cronies—your posse or whatever you call them.”

“I was.” I had to get up and walk around a bit. Seeing him in that weakened state was getting to me. Making me feel things I didn’t want to feel. “And usually you call me on my birthday, not the other way around. I haven’t spent my birthday with you for years now.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he asked. The force of his reply started him coughing.

Turning to look at him, I waited for the coughing fit to subside before asking, “This is more than a stroke, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “This is lung cancer.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to feel.

The man wasn’t dead. Mourning him wouldn’t be the right thing to do. But every fiber of my being told me I should be doing just that.

“What are they doing to treat it?” I finally managed to ask before I staggered to take a seat in a chair, so I wouldn’t fall down.

I’m going to be all alone!

“Chemo.” His eyes went to stare at the ceiling. “Radiation. No surgery can be done. The mass is inoperable. It’s slowly closing off my trachea.”

Getting up, I rushed over to his side, taking his hand in mine as I could hear the fear in his voice. “The chemo and radiation will fix it, Grandad. You’ll see. You can beat this.”

The way his eyes clouded told me he didn’t share my desperate optimism.

“I hope so. My biggest fear is that the tumor will close off my windpipe and I’ll suffocate. I don’t want to go that way, Ransom. I don’t.”

I couldn’t take this. I was about to burst into tears. But my grandfather had always been strong for me, and now it was my turn to be that for him.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Grandad. Give the medicine time to heal you. You’ve got the money to get the best medical help in the whole world. If these medicines fail, then we’ll go alternative. I don’t want you to worry.”

“I don’t want you to be alone, Ransom.” He gripped my hand. “That’s why I’ve done what I’ve done. Not because I hate you. Not because I’m trying to ruin your life. It’s out of love I’ve done this.”

Confusion riddled me. “What are you talking about, Grandad?” I really had no clue at all what he was going on about. “What is it that you’ve done?”

“My will. I’ve made a change to it.” He had to take a second to catch his breath, and the sounds his throat and chest were making were scaring me.

“Grandad, are you okay? Should I get that lady?” I asked as I watched him carefully as he gasped.

Finally, he closed his eyes then his breathing became normal again. “Damn tumor.”

I had no idea what had just happened, but I knew it didn’t feel good to him at all. “So, what is it that you’ve done?”

“I’ve added a stipulation to the will. If you don’t produce an heir before I pass on, then my entire estate will go to charity instead of you,” he said with no qualms at all.