Chapter 43 Beatrice
BEATRICE
One minute, I’m at home staring at the larger-than-life man at the foot of my bed, and the next, he’s got me tucked into his side, my suitcase and a grocery bag hanging from his other hand as he guides me out of my building and toward his truck.
If I had the energy, I might fight him, but I don’t.
And while I might not be one hundred percent sure of where he’s taking me, I do know that it’ll be cooler and quieter than my apartment.
“If you feel like you’re going to vomit, tell me and I’ll pull over,” Everett says softly after he’s lifted me into his passenger seat.
There’s a small frown between his brows, showing how he’s really feeling.
Unable to stop myself, I reach out and smooth the lines.
“I’ll be okay now,” I promise him.
As if we’re drawn together like two magnets, his own hand lifts, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear before wrapping it around the back of my neck.
His touch burns in the best kind of way.
“But if you’re not, just say.” His eyes beg me to agree. As if I’m strong enough right now to argue.
“Okay,” I whisper, afraid to be louder and ruin our moment.
He shuffles closer until his forehead presses against mine.
The air crackles as his eyes burn into mine, and I suck in a sharp breath, relieved I managed to brush my teeth before leaving the apartment.
“I wish I could be sick for you,” he confesses.
A smile twitches at the corner of my mouth. Even though that’s not possible, he’s here. He showed up for me, and he’s taking care of me. Or at least, that's what I think he’s doing. And I can’t ask more of him than that.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
Long before I’m ready, he takes a step back and closes me in.
After putting my suitcase into the back seat, he joins me at the front.
“I stopped on the way and picked this up for you,” he confesses as he hands the grocery bag over.
“When you didn’t message after your coffee delivery, I called Sienna.
She said you had morning sickness, so…” He trails off as I rummage through the bag.
“It probably won’t help. But I looked online, and that was all suggested, so I just thought…
if it’s shit, just toss it in the trash, but—”
I place my hand on his thigh. The second he registers my touch, he swallows his words.
“It’s all perfect,” I assure him. “Thank you. It was really thoughtful.”
His grin starts small, but as he accepts my words, it grows into the most heart-stopping smile.
“Yeah?” he asks, glancing over at me with hope in his eyes.
“Yeah, really.” And to prove my point, I pull the packet of ginger cookies out and rip it open.
I’ve tried a few of the common suggestions to help with morning sickness over the last few weeks. I’m not sure anything has really helped. But I’m more than willing to keep trying, because you never know. And anyway, now that I’ve fully emptied my stomach, I’m ravenous.
“Is that…is that a good idea?” Everett asks, his expression tight.
“Don’t worry, I won’t vomit in your fancy truck,” I assure him as I nibble on the cookie.
He doesn’t look convinced, but he also doesn’t pull over.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what kind of building Everett lived in. In my head, it’s a new modern build. Probably a little like the one I recently left.
But as he begins to slow and hits the blinker to turn into an underground parking garage, I’m proven very, very wrong.
“You live here?” I blurt.
He glances over at me.
“Yeah, why?”
I shake my head. “It’s just not what I imagined.”
Instead of a flashy modern structure, Everett’s building is an old, red-brick industrial building.
And now I’m here looking up at it with the man in question sitting beside me, I feel stupid for thinking he would live anywhere but somewhere like this.
It suits him. A little dark and moody. He wouldn’t fit in a building like my old one with masses of natural light pouring in through the windows.
“Parker and Linc found this place for me soon after my trade was finalized. I couldn’t have done better if I tried.”
“I’m excited to see it.”
He glances over. His mouth opens, but he quickly changes his mind and closes it again before killing the engine.
His face tightens right along with his grip on the wheel.
Anxiety rolls off him, making me second-guess all of this.
Not that it was my idea, of course. He’s the one who insisted on packing me a suitcase and bringing me here.
“I’ve never…” he starts, dragging his hand down his face, giving himself a few more seconds to collect his thoughts. “I’ve never brought a woman back here. Only my family and teammates have ever—” His words cut off with a thick swallow.
“You don’t have to do this. You can take me home and—”
“No,” he barks, interrupting me. “I do need to do this. You’re…you’re having my baby, Bea. You’re…” His words trail off. “Come on. The sooner we get you settled, the sooner you can rest.”
Before I get a chance to say anything, he’s out of the truck and marching around to help me out.
We ride the elevator in silence, and it’s evident from the way Everett’s jaw tics that he’s not entirely sure about this. But as much as I want to argue and make him take me home, I know it’s pointless. He's made a decision, and despite his anxiety over it, he’s going to see it through.
Unsurprisingly, we ride to the very top of the building, and when we emerge, there are only two doors to choose from.
Despite my current living arrangements, I’m no stranger to wealth.
I grew up in places many would call mansions, with access to vacation homes in some of the world’s most expensive cities.
But this place still blows my mind. This building is huge, and there are only two penthouse apartments up here. They have to be—
“Oh wow,” I breathe as Everett opens his front door and allows me to step inside his home.
Where my old apartment was all pristine white and polished, smooth surfaces, this is the complete opposite. And I love it.
The old red brickwork on the exterior is also in here, making the space warm and welcoming. Exposed black steel is everywhere, giving an industrial vibe.
Everything is just…well, it’s Everett. I couldn’t design him a more fitting apartment if I tried.
I continue forward, my eyes everywhere as I take in the open-plan space and the massive windows that showcase this part of downtown.
His kitchen is mainly stainless steel, all open shelving against the brickwork, and the furniture is either black or the richest walnut. It really is something.
My skin prickles with awareness, and I spin around to find the reason.
Everett stands in the entryway with his hand on the back of his neck, looking…shit. Is he nervous?
My heart flutters as I take a step toward him.
I might not know him all that well, but I know enough to be confident that he doesn’t allow many people this close to him.
This right here is Everett Donnelly—the man, not the cocky hockey player I first met. And…damn it, I’m really starting to like him.
Stupid hormones.
“Your room is down here,” he says quietly before taking off across the space.
“My room?” I question, unable to keep my mouth shut as I rush after him.
“Uh…I meant the guest room. One of the guest rooms.”
“How many do you have?”
“Two. The other is my gym and…this one is my bedroom,” he says, rapping his knuckles against a black door as he passes. “And this is…this is…yours?” I’m not sure if it’s meant to come out as a question, but it does.
He pushes the door open for me, and I find more of his incredibly warm apartment as I step inside.
The bed is huge, covered in deep-red sheets that perfectly match the hue of the one exposed brick wall.
“And you’ve got your own bathroom, including a soaker tub,” he adds, pointing toward another door.
“Holy shit, that’s stunning.” I gasp as I take in the claw-foot tub, the exposed brass pipe work, and funky faucets. The shower is also big enough to have a party in with jets everywhere.
“There isn’t much in the way of supplies, but—”
“I’ve got everything I need. Don’t worry,” I assure him, but I don’t think he hears a word of it, because when I spin back around, he’s clearly questioning everything.
“I just…I want you to feel at home and—”
“Everett,” I breathe as I step up to him and tip my head back so I can hold his eyes. “Everything is perfect. Thank you.”
He nods before coughing to clear his throat.
“I'll…um…I’ll leave you to…rest,” he says hesitantly, his eyes bouncing between mine.
“Okay,” I say, my muscles aching with the need to curl up in that huge bed and drift off into a peaceful sleep.
“Do you need anything? Food? Drink?”
“I’m good. The cookies will hold me off for a while.” I smile, and his eyes drop to my lips.
“Okay, good. I don’t have any plans today, so when you’re ready, I’ll order whatever you want in. Or we can go out. Your choice.”
“Thank you, Everett. I know the last thing you want in your life is me cramping your style, but I really do appreciate this.”
“Anything, sweetheart.”
I gasp, my entire body jolting when he reaches out and presses his giant palm to my swollen stomach. I’m still convinced it’s more bloat than baby, but the roundness is becoming harder to ignore.
Tears flood my eyes as his warmth seeps through me.
“I can’t take the sickness away, but I can do this. If you need me, I’ll be right out there, okay?”
The moment his hand falls away, coldness washes over me, and it gets even worse when he backs out of the room and closes the door.
A heavy sigh falls from me, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small smile on my lips.
I spin around and take in the room again, my eyes skimming over the vanity and the large mirror that sits above it, its thick, rough iron frame totally in keeping with the theme of this place.
I can see myself sitting there getting ready for my day, and as I walk toward the other closed door beside the bathroom, I find a huge walk-in closet that makes me want to sob, it’s so perfect.
Damn, a girl could get used to this.
Going back to my shitty apartment is going to suck.
But, happy that that is a problem for another day, I grab my suitcase from the floor where Everett left it and carry it into the closet, opening it on the bench in the middle of the room.
While the bed might be calling to me, the tub is shouting louder. I grab the few things I’ll need before drawing myself a bath and pouring in a generous amount of the salts that are sitting on a shelf, waiting to be used.
With the morning sun streaming through the high windows, I strip down and step into the water.
It’s not as hot as I’d usually have it, but a loud moan of delight still slips past my lips as I submerge myself.
When I woke this morning and had to run to the bathroom almost instantly, I assumed it was going to be an awful day. I did not anticipate Everett storming his way in and turning everything around, but damn, am I grateful.