“You don’t even know me,” she reminded him.
“As I told you before, I know enough, and what I’ve learned since having you in my home has just confirmed everything the girls had told me.”
“But they don’t know inside of me.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“There’s something wrong with my soul…”
“Stop,” he interrupted and pressed a finger to her mouth. “This is what your father has told you over the years, correct?”
She nodded slowly.
“Baby, he only said those things to keep you with him. With your low to non-existent self-esteem, it made you feel like you couldn’t do anything without him.”
She scrunched her brows together as she thought over his words.
“Your father is an abusive, self-righteous son of a bitch who doesn’t deserve you.”
She cuddled back against him and wrapped an arm around his waist but stayed silent as she absorbed the words.
“What have you wanted to do but couldn’t?”
“Have friends over, or go for walks, or play with dogs and cats.”
Patrick chuckled. “I like all those things, too.”
She glanced up. “Really?”
“Yes, baby. Really.”
He held her for another moment. “How about we get dressed and go down to breakfast?”
“Okay.” She scooted off the bed and raced into her bedroom.
In the kitchen, Patrick helped Eve into a chair at a small table. She looked around the beautiful room, and her gaze fell on the stern-looking woman at the stove. Her stomach tightened in dread. What if the woman didn’t like her? What if she did something terrible, and Patrick didn’t want her anymore?’
****
Earlier, in bed, Patrick chuckled and let her study him. He was turned a bit to the side to prevent his hard cock from scaring her. She wasn’t quite ready for that. Someday, hopefully soon, he’d be able to roll her underneath him every morning and dive into her warm tight body.
A grin spread across his face when he suggested breakfast and then watched her run out of the room.
A few minutes later, she met him in the hallway.
He didn’t say anything, but that was the last time she’d see those dresses. He’d get some clothes for her that day, and he eventually wanted to check into a puppy or kitten for her.
Patrick helped Eve into a chair at a small table in the kitchen.
He could tell she was getting worked up when he brought two glasses of orange juice back to the table, so he sat beside her and laid an arm on the back of her chair.
“What’s got you worried?”
She wrung her hands together in her lap. “I don’t know how to act. What if she doesn’t like me?”
“Are you talking about Agnes, our cook?”
She shrugged.