Page 64 of Daddy's Dirty Little Secret

“You’d give me a salary,” he said. “After what I pulled?”

“I’d call it a job,” I said. “Not a favor. But yeah.”

He didn’t speak. He just sat there with his mouth half open. I glanced over at Amelia. Her hand had come up to her mouth, and her eyes were glassy. I gave her a small smile.

“Don’t cry yet,” I told her.

She let out a quiet laugh that sounded like she was trying not to fall apart entirely.

I turned back to Laurence. “There’s one condition.”

He looked wary now. “What’s that?”

I stood, reaching into my jacket pocket. My fingers closed around the box. It had been sitting there since last week, waiting for the right moment. I didn’t know if this was it, but I wasn’t waiting anymore.

“I want your blessing,” I said. “Because I want to marry your daughter.”

The silence hit harder than I expected. Amelia froze. Laurence blinked. I opened the box and set it on the table between them, the diamond catching the light in a way that felt almost too on the nose.

“I know it’s fast,” I said. “I know she’s younger than me. But I also know what I want. And I’m too old to waste time not having it.”

Laurence stared at the ring, then at me. His mouth opened, but it took a second for anything to come out.

“She’s…” He stopped, then started again. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” I said. “Half a million might as well count as a dowry, right?”

That broke the tension. Amelia made a noise that was half laugh, half sob. I grinned, and then she burst into laughter, and I joined her. Laurence looked between the two of us, then leaned back and rubbed a hand over his face. When he pulled it away, he was grinning too—like an idiot. The joke simmered all the negative vibes in the air and eased my anxiety.

“She’s got a mind of her own,” he said eventually. “Always has. And I won’t pretend I’m not still trying to wrap my head around all of this. But if you’re in this for real—if you’re going to treat her like she matters every day, not just when it’s easy—then you have my blessing.”

Amelia let out a breath like she’d been holding it for hours. I walked over and took her hand. She stood slowly. When I got down on one knee, her lips parted like she couldn’t believe I was doing this here, in her father’s dining room, right after mashed potatoes and a confession.

“Amelia Johnson,” I said, holding her hand in mine, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And this kid. And probably a few more, if we’re not careful. Will you marry me?”

She nodded so fast it made me grin. “Yes. Of course yes.”

I slid the ring onto her finger, stood up, and pulled her into me. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and when I looked over her shoulder, Laurence was smiling, his eyes damp.

She held my hand like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like I hadn’t once made a habit out of keeping people at arm’s length, or burned every bridge before someone else could. All my life, I told myself it was safer to want nothing than to risk losing something I couldn’t get back.

That started the day my mother packed a bag and walked out. I’d asked her to stay. I meant it. I was twelve, barely old enough to understand what was happening, but I still knew what goodbye looked like. She didn’t answer. Just walked out the front door and never looked back.

Since then, I’d made a career out of being untouchable. I built walls. I stayed in control. I kept things casual, kept people at a distance, and convinced myself it was enough. I told myself I liked it that way. I didn’t owe anyone anything, and no one could disappoint me.

And then Amelia happened.

She walked into my office, confident and capable, and I didn’t think twice. I thought I could keep her in that same safe category—attractive, competent, off-limits. But somehow she made me forget I had limits in the first place. She didn’t ask for anything. She didn’t press. She just stayed. Even when I gave her reasons not to. Even when I made it harder than it had to be. Even when I didn’t deserve it.

Now she stood next to me in her father’s kitchen, the ring on her finger catching the light above the sink. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she said yes, but it wasn’t a big, giddy kind of smile. It was quiet. Certain. Like she wasn’t afraid anymore, and maybe she didn’t think I would be either.

I looked down at our hands, still laced together. I could feel the weight of everything we’d been through sitting in the room with us—Hayes, the money, the months of miscommunication and almosts. All of it had led here.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t trying to run from what I felt. I wasn’t trying to contain it or bury it under something easier. I had someone. I had her. And I wasn’t going to lose that.

Not to fear. Not to pride. Not to the past.

She turned slightly and looked up at me, eyes steady, waiting for whatever came next.

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