ELEVEN
Elton
It’s been a whole week since I had Reilly on this table.
A whole week since I got to taste her. A whole week of annoyingly friendly texts that won’t go past vacant pleasantries.
She declined my offer to stay the night and vanished out of here so quickly I didn’t get a chance to question it.
I spent the rest of my night getting rid of my unspent energy in the gym with Jeeves.
I stare at the table where Reilly had been laid bare. Her skin, her scent, her moans and cries. My brain has been filled with every part of her all week. The anticipation leading up to today – when she will once again be in my presence – has been distracting.
Her laughter carries from the kitchen, where she gently teases Neive about some batter mishap, using encouraging words and making the whole experience enjoyable as well as educational.
I can’t remember the last time Neive laughed like that.
The sort of laugh where your stomach hurts and your eyes squeeze shut.
All I’ve heard about this week is baking, and Reilly.
She’s been researching recipes and making notes in her little notebook.
It’s a thrill to watch life coming back to her.
She’s had a difficult time recently, and I worried for a while about how I was going to get her through this.
But maybe I’m not doing too badly – with the help of Reilly, of course.
She deserves so much, and I have the ability to give it to her. I want to wine and dine her, show her what luxury really is. I know what it’s like to fight for everything you have, my reach is long now and I have the resources to give her the world.
I’ve found myself hiding in the dining room, just off the kitchen.
I don’t want to impose on their time, but I want to be around her.
The door is slightly ajar as I lean back against the window.
I could have her pressed against here. I could lift her in my arms and wrap her legs around my waist. I would grind against her as we listened to the waves crashing on the cliffs below.
Giggles interrupt my dirty thoughts, and I bring myself back to reality. I need to get her alone so I can ask her out. I can’t jump on her again. I need to do it right this time. I won’t hold back. I make my way into the kitchen as Neive pops a tin in the oven and sets a timer.
“Smells good. Where’s Reilly gone?” Neive is too busy making her notes to even grace me with a glance. It’s nice she’s found her passion, something to throw herself into.
“Outside.” She waves in the direction of the doors.
I step out onto the veranda that stretches around the back of the house, overlooking the garden and seafront. I spot Reilly with her back to me, leaning forward over the railings. I take a step towards her. I want to wrap my arms around her and comb my hands through her hair.
“Yes, nauseous, mostly when I first wake up.” Shit, she’s on the phone. I should give her privacy. “No, I spoke to the doctor yesterday about the missed period.” Missed period?? “Yep, five pregnancy tests don’t lie.”
Nauseous? Missed period? Pregnancy tests? Shit! This can’t be happening.
We were careful. We used a condom. I’m sure we did. Wait, how long ago was it? Shit, I can’t do maths right now.
She can’t be pregnant, it can’t be mine, I can’t take on more right now. I haven’t got the capacity to deal with this.
“I know, finally. I’ve been trying this for months.” What does that mean? Trying what for months?
I’m frozen in place, staring at Reilly. She hasn’t noticed I’m here. I would expect her to be panicked; crying at the unexpected news, flustering about how to make this work. But no, she’s calm.
She knows nothing about me. I could be a terrible father. I would be a terrible father.
Although I suppose she knows enough about me to know she’s secured a future for herself. Yep, that’s it. She’s one of those. Little Miss Sunshine has snagged herself a rich baby daddy. This is Hannah fucking Pemberton all over again. But this time the pregnancy is real.
“Elton, you scared me. You okay?” Reilly has turned around and her eyes are tracking my face.
“When were you going to tell me?” My voice is low and harsh.
“Tell you what?” She raises an eyebrow at me. I scoff at her response. Oh, she’s good. Another person out for something from me; my time, my money, my goddamn soul. It’s constant and it’s draining. I was blinded by her aloofness, her floaty carefree attitude hiding her agenda.
“Is it even mine?” I spit out the words. Take a second, Elton. Don’t show weakness. “I’ll want a paternity test, of course. We’ll need to set up a meeting with my lawyer and go over how this will work.” My insides are on fire, but my outside is ice cold. Calm, detached.
Her mouth drops open. “Elton, what …”
I silence her with my hand. She jolts, eyes wide in disbelief.
“IF this child is mine, and I do mean IF, don’t think I’ll see you as anything other than a money-grabbing gold digger.
I will support the child, but we will never have any form of relationship that goes beyond being amicable co-parents.
If we can even manage that,” I hiss at her.
My heart is thumping and my brain feels like it’s about to explode out my eyes as my rage courses through me.
“Do you have anything to say?” I’m yelling now.
The panic surging through me won’t be held back.
She flinches at the sound of my voice, but then a hard stone mask washes over her face.
“Well, if that’s how you feel.” Ice coats the words.
That’s all she is going to give me. I storm inside, slamming the door shut.
“Uncle Elton, what’s going on?” Neive tries to follow me through the kitchen.
“Not now, Neive,” I snap. She stops, and her face drops. Fuck that was too harsh. I’ll have to apologise later. But right now, I feel like I’m going to combust.