Chapter 29
JACK
Iclose the file I had my guy put together on Gracie’s ex and tuck it in my top drawer when I hear her humming her way down the hall.
“Someone’s in a good mood.” I smile at her when she bursts inside, taking a seat on the opposite side of my desk and looking as if she’s got something exciting to tell me.
“I think Cecelia is seeing someone.” She rests her feet on my desk, sliding her hand under her tummy and making herself comfortable. “Do my ankles look swollen to you?” She tilts her head as she checks them over.
“They're not swollen at all…and what do you mean, seeing someone?” I stand up and close the door, in case anyone overhears; I know what the staff can be like for gossiping. Resting against the edge of the desk, I take one of her ankles and knead it with my fingers.
“Last night I couldn’t sleep, your little one was hungry, so I came down to get something to eat, and that's when I saw headlights pull up front,” she explains, switching the way her legs are crossed so I can give her other ankle some attention.
“Naturally, I was curious, so I peeked out the pantry window.”
“The pantry window is over six feet high,” I remind her.
“Yes, but it’s the only one that looks out over to her private entrance.” She shakes her head.
“How did you manage to look out of it?” I fold my arms accusingly.
“By climbing onto the counter, now, will you let me fin—”
“No more nighttime trips to the kitchen,” I interrupt; I swear this girl was put on this planet to test my patience.
“Jack, that's unreasonable. What if the baby is hungry?” She gives me ‘those’ eyes as she strokes her belly, trying to manipulate me and fucking succeeding.
“Then you wake me, and I’ll get whatever you need. I mean it, Gracie,” I warn, leaning over her and resting both hands on the armrest.
“Fine,” she agrees, so that she can get back to her story.
“So, I’m looking out the window, perfectly balanced and safe.
” She pauses to smile cleverly, and I want to bite it off her lips.
“I watched Cecelia get out of a car, and a guy walk her to her door; then they kissed.” She crosses her arms when she’s finished.
“You must have been dreaming.” I shake my head and laugh, standing up to give the girl some space.
“Check your CCTV.” She shrugs, struggling to manoeuvre the top half of her body so she can reach down and prod her ankles. “They definitely look bigger today than they were yesterday,” she pouts.
“Probably because you were wearing those stupid heels,” I tell her, rounding my desk and bringing up the security footage on my laptop.
“So you do think they’re fat?” She stares at me angrily.
“I never said they were fat. They’re not fat. They’re not even swollen. You're just paranoi–”
“Oh, so I can’t even validate my own feelings now?” She looks pissed off.
“Of course, you can. I didn’t mean–”
“Relax, I'm playing with you, again.” She drops her act and flashes me an amused smile, then nods confidently at my laptop screen like she’s ready to have her point proven.
“That's Gordon Linchford,” I explain when I see the man in question walking Cecelia to the door, just like she said.
“Is that your little girlfriend's dad?” She tries to make herself sound funny, but instead, it comes out bitter. I say nothing, just stare at her until she realises she’s being pathetic.
“Anabella’s dad,” she corrects herself, but not without an eyeroll.
“Calm yourself, he’s married. In fact, Cecelia is very friendly with his wife. She probably spent the evening with her, and he’s dropped her home.”
“Then snogged her goodbye on the doorstep?” She looks at me as if I’m some kind of idiot.
“That is not a proper kiss, that's just two people saying goodbye.” I don’t want her getting carried away with this shit. Cecelia’s been staying the hell out of my business lately, and I’m happy to show her the same respect.
“This is how two friends say goodbye.” Gracie stands up and comes towards me, leaning over me, and taps a kiss against my lips.
“That is not what that was.” She rests her ass on my lap and focuses on the screen. “What a scandal; Cecelia Ravenshaw, the grieving widow. screwing her best friend's husband.” She sighs
“So she’s screwing him now, too?” I laugh, loving how this girl’s imagination runs wild. I just wish she could imagine staying here with me when all this is over.
“Clearly.” She wraps her arms around my neck, looking pleased with herself.
“You seriously need to get out more.” I shake my head and get back to work.
The smile drops from her face, making me instantly feel guilty. Sometimes I forget this place is her prison, and that I’m her keeper.
“I’m sorry. I forg—”
“Jesus, I got you again, Jack. You make it too easy.” She giggles, standing up and heading for the door.
“Where are you going?” I check she’s not planning on climbing any more windows.
“To take the weight off my fat ankles,” she calls back at me, holding her middle finger up over her shoulder.
“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be in here.” I pause in the doorway when I see her lying in my bathtub; hair pinned up, surrounded by bubbles.
“I’m just having a soak, it's not easy carrying your baggage around all day,” she reminds me as I step forward and admire how her tummy pokes up through the bubbles.
“Do you think it’s appropriate to refer to the next Duke of Fairfax as baggage?” I tease, pumping my hand full of my soap.
“Well, have you thought of any names?” she asks as I take her foot in my hand and start soaping it.
“I’ve thought of plenty, but you’ll probably hate them.” I shrug, sliding my fingers through her toes to stretch them out.
“What does it matter what I think?” She giggles, having no idea how much it hurts every time she reminds me that a day will come when she’ll be gone.
“You're bringing him into the world; I think that deserves a say in what he gets called for the rest of his life.”
“Jack, you really need to stop the whole he and him thing. I’m actually starting to think there's a girl in there.” I can tell by the way she smiles that she likes the idea. “I don’t know why you didn’t take Dr. Stratton up on her offer at the last ultrasound, so you could find out for sure.”
“I don’t need confirmation. There's a boy in there. A strong, healthy, and handsome boy like his father.” I spread some bubbles over her stomach as I stroke it.
“And what if you're wrong, what if your little duke turns out to be a little duchess?”
“Then she’ll be spoilt, but locked in a tower away from any boys until she’s forty and ready to join the convent.” I reach my head down to talk to her stomach, making sure that if she is a she, we have an understanding. Instead of laughing, Gracie looks concerned.
“I am, of course, joking. I’m not really going to lock her in a tower.
But she is becoming a nun.” I massage more soap into her skin, lathering up her calf, then her thighs, and the satisfied purr she makes as she rests her head back, and takes comfort in it, makes me feel so fucking contented that I could stay here with her for hours.
That smile sets on her lips, and when she glances down at her tummy, I know exactly why.
“Is our little nun stirring?” I ask, placing my hand under her belly button, hoping I get to feel for myself.
“Yes,” She takes my hand, sliding it a little to the right. “Can you feel?” She stares at me while I concentrate on feeling just the slightest of motion.
“Nothing, guess I must scare her.”
“Actually, she loves hearing your voice. She’s most active when you're around,” she assures me.
“Well, that's good to know.” I smile back and get back to cleaning her body.
“Do you ever wonder who he or she will look like?” she asks, her hand still casually stroking her tummy.
“All the time. If it is a girl, I sure hope she looks like you.” I laugh, and when she only gives a half smile in response, I wonder if there’s something on her mind.
“She could end up looking like your mum; maybe you could name her after her. What was her name?”
“Lily,” I answer, not feeling entirely comfortable where this is going. I’ve made it clear, on more than one occasion, that I don’t like talking about her.
“That’s a pretty name. I like it.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a shame it’s a boy in there because he is not being called Lily.” I pat her tummy and stand back on my feet, heading to my dresser to put some sweats on, and hoping we can avoid the conversation.
“You can talk to me, you know.” I hear the water swish as she stands up in the tub, her beautiful pregnant body, bare and blooming in front of me.
“I know whatever happened to her haunts you; maybe if you opened up about it, you’d feel better.” Despite wanting to avoid her, I step up and offer her my hand so she can step out onto the bath mat safely. Grabbing a towel, I wrap it around her chest.
“I don’t need to talk about it; it happened a long time ago. I’m over it.” I try to convince her with a smile.
“Jack, I know from experience that you don’t get over losing your mum. I really want to help.”
“You are helping.” I look down to where she’s growing our child. I didn’t realise until we got into this, what an incredible thing it is for a woman to do.
“You know everything about me, Jack. I’ve never hidden who I am or what I've been through from you. Before all this, I would never have believed I’d open up that way.
Sometimes, letting go of those secrets makes you feel better.
Think about it.” She smiles sadly as she reaches up on her toes and kisses my cheek.
“Goodnight, Jack,” she whispers, tucking in her towel and leaving me alone with those secrets.