Page 33 of Obsessed Mr. O’Brian

He helps Lola balance across the bed toward me. I accept her hands without hesitation. Artur leans around his daughter and cups my chin.

“I was there because I chose to be there, Millie. I may not remember why, but I know it wasn’t your fault.”

Lola grunts and pushes his hand away from my face. The glare she sends him over his shoulder as she wraps her arms around me fills me with mirth even as my insides quake in fear.

This can’t be real. I’m going to wake up any minute to him screaming at me like he did when I visited him at the hospital.

Pain throbs through me from Lola’s tight grip, but I’d rather die than complain. I never thought the daughter of my best friend and first crush would feel such ownership over me, but I relish the sense of belonging as it swirls within the mess of grief and regret.

Artur squints at his daughter’s back before capturing my attention again.

“Accidents happen. You had no control over the weather or the power line,” he continues. “I just don’t understand why you ran away.”

With Lola’s arms wrapped around me and her breath teasing the side of my face as she plays with my braid, I find the courage to speak.

“My mom was hurt. She needed help.”

I hold my breath in anticipation of his disbelief, but instead understanding widens his eyes.

“And you were never the type to ignore someone in pain, especially when it’s someone you love,” he murmurs.

I shrug. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Lola swats at his wrist. He kisses her temple before sitting back and running a hand through his hair. I swallow but the lump in my throat refuses to budge.

“I thought all the wrong things about you for way too long. I’m sorry I never gave you the chance to explain,” he says.

I shrug again, doubtful I would’ve been able to even if he had. He leans to the side to see me better around his daughter.

“Will you forgive me?” he asks.

This is the complete opposite of what I expected this morning. The urge to nod and move on just to avoid his scrutiny almost wins, but I pause and consider the accident from his new point of view.

It doesn’t erase the hurt festering deep in my soul but it does lighten the clouds hanging over my head.

I nod. He lifts a brow. I shift so Lola blocks his view of me.

His growl vibrates up my spine.

Between one breath and the next, I go from holding a three-year-old to being held like one. Somehow, despite all the movement, my battered body only throbs with delight as Artur pushes his daughter against my front and scoops us both off the mattress and onto his lap. Lola looks between us for a moment, taking in my shock and her father’s smug expression before giving a little bounce—which pulls a grunt from my sore ribs—and patting his sternum as she buries her face between my breasts and melts against me.

Cradled against his chest with her in my arms, I struggle to control my heart and my mind as they run headlong toward a happily ever after that was never meant to be mine.

“Don’t fight me right now, Millie. This is what Lola wants, isn’t it, baby?” he coos.

Lola nods against my cleavage with so much enthusiasm the top button of my shirt pops open.

The honey shimmering in his golden-flecked eyes darkens with sensual hunger. I swallow and hug Lola tighter to me despite my next words.

“This isn’t right.”

“It feels right to me,” he quips.

“It’s not in my job description.”

My excuse sounds lame even to my own ears.

“Then we’ll rewrite your contract,” he says.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I breathe.