Chapter 18
NICK
The elevator doors open and Avery steps into the foyer ahead of me, already slipping out of her coat.
I take it from her automatically and hang it in the vestibule closet along with mine.
The ultrasound printout is still tucked in my jacket pocket.
I retrieve it reverently, handling it with utmost care.
The image is grainy, barely recognizable as anything as far as I can tell.
Still, I've never seen anything so fascinating in my life.
A smudge inside a darker oval. Our child.
Its tiny heartbeat still echoes in my mind, so fragile and miraculous.
I'd gotten choked up in the exam room, and just the sight of the ultrasound in my hands now puts a knot of emotion in my throat.
"It's kind of cute, isn't it?" Avery's palm rests tenderly on my back as she stands next to me and looks at the image of our baby.
"It's fucking incredible." I can't keep the awe out of my voice. Hell, I don't even try. I turn toward her and gather her close, wrapping my arms around her. "You are amazing. What your body is doing right now. You blow me away."
She laughs softly. "I'm not the first woman ever to be pregnant."
"No, but you're mine." I dip my head toward hers and kiss her.
Desire arcs through me, ratcheting even tighter when she moans softly into my mouth.
I'd love nothing more than to undress her right where we stand and bury myself inside her, but I have more important things to do.
I force myself to break our kiss, but only so I can drop another one on her nose. "You need to eat."
She doesn't argue or resist. Taking her by the hand, I bring her into the large kitchen. I set the printout on the island where I can see it and turn to find Avery already settling onto a stool.
"What's for lunch, chef?"
"Chicken," I tell her, standing at the refrigerator and pulling out what I need. "Plenty of vegetables. Some of that iron-rich spinach Dr. Wilson mentioned."
She arches a brow at me, although she hardly looks surprised. "You memorized the nutrition guidelines."
"I memorized everything she said."
She smiles. "I'm glad one of us was listening and taking mental notes. I think I was too busy trying not to cry once we got that first glimpse on the monitor."
"Who says I wasn’t?" I shake my head, still marveling at the whole thing.
I pull out a cutting board and start prepping, moving around the kitchen to gather ingredients and tools.
Avery watches me, and I feel her gaze on me like something physical.
The way she's looking at me, the way her soft, oversized button-down shirt is undone just enough that I can see the swell of her breasts and the soft skin I’m dying to touch, is a distraction I can barely resist. It takes effort to keep my focus where it belongs.
On taking care of her. On feeding her and our baby.
Olive oil in the pan. Garlic, then onion.
The sizzle fills the space between us while I move through the motions on autopilot and my mind catalogs everything else she needs.
Prenatal vitamins. She's already taking them, but I should double-check the dosage.
More leafy greens in the fridge. Foods to avoid—the doctor rattled off a list of them.
Soft cheeses, deli meat, raw fish. I'll have the housekeeper stock up tomorrow and clear out anything she shouldn't have.
This is something I can control. Something concrete I can do for her.
"You know," she says, "if you keep feeding me like this all the time, I'm going to forget how to cook in the microwave."
I glance at her and smirk. "Microwaves are only good for defrosting and popcorn."
With her chin propped in her hand, she laughs, watching me like I'm doing something interesting instead of just making a simple dinner. The light from the window catches her soft blonde hair. Those gorgeous green eyes gaze at me as if I’m the only man in the world.
How the fuck did I get so goddamned lucky?
Before her, I’d stand at this same stove more evenings than I can recall, contracts spread across the island where she’s sitting now, takeout containers on the counter because I couldn't be bothered to cook for one.
The silence in this place used to press against my ears like something physical.
I worked. I slept. I fucked occasionally, forgettable encounters that were only about letting off steam.
I closed deals and crushed competitors and told myself that was enough.
Told myself I had it all. That I didn’t want anything else.
All lies. I wanted this. I wanted her, even before I knew there was someone out there like Avery. I wanted this life so badly I couldn't even admit it to myself.
The food comes together fast. I plate both portions and carry them to the island, settling onto the stool beside her.
My thigh presses against hers when I sit, and she leans into the contact.
I find myself watching her as much as the food in front of me.
Every bite she takes awakens something primal in me.
The need to provide for her, to know she's nourished, that our baby is getting what it needs.
“Mmm. Nick, this is so good.”
She makes a low sound of appreciation, and my cock stirs despite the fact that we're doing nothing more than eating lunch. Christ. Even now.
I stab a bite of chicken on the end of my fork. “The doctor asked if we want to know the baby’s gender.”
“Right.” She chews a small piece of zucchini, her gaze studying me. “I thought we should talk about it in private.”
I nod, recalling the look that passed between us in the examination room. As with so many other aspects of our life together, we’d been in sync then too. “So, what do you think? Do you want to know ahead of time?”
She sets down her fork. Slowly shakes her head. "I want to wait. Be surprised." She glances up at me, and there's a vulnerability in her expression that makes my chest tight. "I know that's not really your style. You like to plan. Control the variables."
She's not wrong. I've built my entire life around knowing what's coming before it arrives. Every deal, every negotiation, every potential threat assessed and prepared for. The idea of walking into something this big without knowing the answer goes against every instinct I have.
But something happened when I heard that heartbeat. Something cracked open in me that I'm still trying to understand. "I want to be surprised too."
Her eyes widen slightly. "Really?"
I reach over and take her hand, threading my fingers through hers. "Being in that office with you today made me realize there are some things that are better left unplanned. No strategy. No preparation. So let’s just find out together whenever our kid decides to make their entrance."
The smile that spreads across her face is worth every ounce of uncertainty I just signed up for. "I was hoping you'd say that."
I lift her hand to my mouth and press a kiss to her knuckles. “The first decision we've made together about this kid, and we ended up in the same place. How about that?”
I'm not naive enough to think they'll all go this smoothly, but I'll take the win.
"There's something else we need to talk about." I nod toward the living room, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sharp-edged furniture I never thought twice about until today. "What about this place?"
Her expression turns hesitant. Apparently, she's been thinking about it too.
"Sharp edges, glass everywhere," I point out. "Every corner in this apartment could crack a kid's skull open. The terrace railing has gaps a toddler could slip through. This place was designed for a man who only ever had to think about himself."
"Nick—"
"I'll sell it." The words come out easier than I expected.
This penthouse has been proof of everything I built, everything I clawed my way toward.
But sitting here next to Avery, with that ultrasound image on the counter between us, none of that matters the way it used to.
"We'll find something else. A brownstone.
A place outside the city with a big yard.
Whatever you want, angel. I'll make it happen. "
She's quiet for a long moment. I watch her gaze travel across the space, to the floor-to-ceiling windows, the view of the city skyline spread out below us, this massive kitchen where I've made her breakfast more times than I can count.
"Nick… no."
I frown. "No?"
"I don't want to leave." Her voice is steady. Certain. "This is our home. This is where we put ourselves back together after everything fell apart. Where I woke up next to you and knew—really knew—that I was done running from what we have."
"But the baby—"
"We'll make it work." She turns on her stool to face me fully, and her hand comes up to rest on my jaw. "We'll childproof every sharp corner. Put up gates, cover the outlets, do whatever we need to do. But I'm not giving up this place. Not when it's where our life together started."
The conviction in her eyes mirrors something I've felt since the first night I brought her here. The sense that this space, which had been nothing but expensive emptiness for years, finally felt alive. That it meant something. She's claimed it as hers. The same way she's claimed me.
"Okay." I turn my head to press a kiss to the center of her palm. "We stay."
"We stay." She smiles, and it hits me somewhere deep in my chest. "Besides, you love this kitchen."
"I love cooking for you in this kitchen," I correct her. "There's a difference."
She leans forward and kisses me.
We finish eating, and I clear the dishes while she moves to the couch.
When I join her I pull her close, her back against my chest, my arms wrapped around her, my legs bracketing hers.
She relaxes into me like she was made to fit in exactly this space.
My hand finds her belly, resting there. Just wanting to be close to both of them.
"You do realize we have no idea what we're doing." Her voice is soft. Content.
I chuckle. "Not a fucking clue."
"Does that scare you? Still?"
I think about the conversation we had in the bath that day she first told me she was pregnant. The fear I admitted to her, that the volatility in my blood would find its way into my hands. That I'd look at my own child one day and they’d see my father staring back at them.
Avery talked me through it with a certainty I couldn't argue with, and the fear has been quieter since. Not gone. But manageable.
"Not like before." I press my mouth to her hair. "Now it's different, like standing at the edge of something huge. Something I can't see the bottom of. But knowing you're standing there with me makes it feel like we might actually survive the fall."
She turns in my arms, shifting until she's facing me, her thighs settling on either side of mine. The movement presses her against me in ways that make my blood heat, but I don't act on it. Not yet. I just look at her, this woman who saw through every wall I ever built and decided to stay anyway.
"We're going to figure this out," she says. "The same way we've figured out everything else."
I stroke her soft cheek. "Together."
"Yes, together." Her hand comes up to cup my face. "I love you, Nick. Whatever comes next, just remember that. I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."
I don't have words for what that does to me.
Instead, I kiss her. It starts soft. Grateful.
The kind of kiss that says things I don't know how to speak out loud.
But the heat between us never stays quiet for long.
Her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer.
I palm the back of her head and angle her mouth to take the kiss deeper, and she makes a sound against my lips that shoots straight to my cock.
When she shifts her hips and grinds against me, I groan into her mouth. She's warm and soft and pressed against the part of me that's rapidly losing interest in taking things slow.
"Avery." Her name comes out rough.
"Take me to bed." Her eyes are dusky and pleading, her lips swollen from my kiss. "I need you."
I don't make her ask twice.
I stand and lift her into my arms, then I carry her down the hall to our bedroom. Her mouth finds my jaw, my throat, the spot below my ear that makes me curse under my breath. By the time I lower her onto the mattress, I'm hard enough to drive nails and aching with the need to be inside her.
I spend the rest of the afternoon showing her exactly what she means to me. What they both mean to me. Taking my time. Savoring every sound, every shudder, every whispered version of my name on her lips.
Afterward, she falls asleep with her head on my chest, one hand curled protectively over her belly. I lie there in the quiet, too wired to sleep, my mind already turning over everything that comes next.
The wedding is just a couple of weeks away. Three hundred guests, every one of them representing a variable I need to account for. Security, venues, the press circling like sharks. A thousand decisions I have no idea how to make.
I glance toward the kitchen, where the ultrasound still sits on the island. That grainy image. Our bean, Avery called it. The tiny heartbeat I heard for the first time today, so fast and strong it almost broke me.
My wife. My child. This life I never let myself want until now.
I've spent years building walls. Accumulating power. Making damn sure nothing could touch me. And now, with Avery warm against my side and our baby growing inside her, I understand something with perfect clarity.
I've never had this much to lose.