Chapter Eleven #2
A soft smile curves her lips. “Lead the way, Vaughn.”
We make it to the restaurant within twenty minutes. The hostess leads us to a small corner booth in the back, shadowed by the soft light and draped in white linen.
It feels like we’re the only two people in Manhattan, in our own little world.
We share some bread, a salad, and some roasted figs. Watching her eat with a real appetite is one of my favorite parts of mealtime. She’s not getting little bouts of nausea anymore; instead, she’s starting to get cravings for rich carbs and meat, and I’m more than happy to encourage this change.
“So,” Ellis says, setting her fork down and taking a sip of her mocktail, “what are your plans for tomorrow while I’m stuck in meetings?”
“I have a nine a.m. meeting with my agent,” I say, cutting into my steak that arrived a few minutes ago. “He wants to go over some off-season endorsement offers. A shoe line wants to extend my deal for three years, and there’s a luxury SUV brand that wants to do a national campaign.”
“That’s amazing, Brody,” Ellis says, her eyes lighting up with excitement for me. “Are you going to take it?”
“Yeah, definitely the shoe deal,” I say, shrugging. “The SUV one, I’m not sure yet. They want to shoot the commercial in Vancouver in February. I told Scott I’m not leaving the state for more than forty-eight hours at a time while you’re pregnant.”
Ellis pauses, her glass hovering halfway to her mouth. “Brody …Vancouver is what? A few days? You shouldn’t turn down a major national campaign on my account. I’ll be like twenty weeks along, and I’m perfectly healthy.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say plainly, looking her in the eye. “My place is here. If I’m in Canada and you need me, or if I miss a kick or something important, a six-hour flight is six hours too far. Scott can find a brand that shoots in Brooklyn or Jersey.”
Ellis stares at me, her eyes softening so deeply that for a second, I think she might tear up right here. She reaches across the small table, sliding her fingers over my knuckles.
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“I don’t say shit I don’t mean. I think you know that by now.”
Before she can answer, a shadow falls over the edge of our table.
“Excuse me … Mr. Vaughn?”
I look up. Standing beside our table is a guy in his late twenties wearing a button-up shirt and slacks, like he probably got off work and came straight here, smartphone in his hand, looking hesitant but also excited. Behind him, two other guys are watching closely.
“Hey,” I say, keeping my tone polite but measured, instinctively shifting my shoulders to shield Ellis from his view.
“Man, I’m so sorry to interrupt your dinner,” the guy says quickly, his eyes wide. “I’m a huge fan. I’ve had season tickets for the last six years. That game against Dallas this year was a killer. We were so close. Aston Griffith up against his brother Archie was iconic, though.”
“Appreciate that, man. Thanks for your support,” I say, offering him my hand.
“I know the postseason ended rough, but we’re all behind you guys next year,” the guy says, his eyes darting to Ellis as he notices her hand in mine. A flash of realization crosses his face. “Oh wow. Sorry, I didn’t mean to crash your date night.”
We haven’t made any formal announcements at this point, but we’re not exactly hiding it either. But Ellis doesn’t pull her hand away, so I don’t let go either.
In fact, her fingers tighten on mine.
So I pull her hand slightly further into the center of the table, holding it openly in front of everyone who might be watching.
“It’s all good,” I say evenly, a confident smile touching my lips. “Have a good night.”
“You too, Mr. Vaughn. Enjoy your off-season!” The fan nods respectfully and backs away toward the bar, already whispering to his buddies.
Ellis sits perfectly still for a second, her gaze dropping down to our hands. She looks back up at me, and her cheeks flush a pale pink.
“Getting brave, are we?” she whispers.
“Well, I sure as shit wasn’t about to let go as long as you were letting me hold your hand in front of him,” I say, raising her hand to my mouth and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
“I’m not hiding you, Ellis. As far as I’m concerned, you’re mine, and I don’t care who sees us together, as long as you’re okay with it. ”
Ellis smiles, and it spreads slowly across her face. “I don’t want to hide it either.”
“Do you want to pack the rest of this food up and head back to your place?” I pull back slightly. “I really want to get you home now.”
“Yep, I’ve had all I can eat right now. Let’s get out of here.”
Once we make it back to her place, I take the dogs out to potty while she takes a quick shower. When I come back in, I get us both a bottle of water and head toward her bedroom.
By the time I get there, both dogs have settled on their beds in the corner of the room, snuggled together.
Ellis has showered and is wearing one of my Titans’ T-shirts that she must have stolen from my house at some point. It hangs all the way down to her mid-thigh, even with her little bump.
She’s standing near the foot of the bed, pulling out her messy bun, letting her long waves spill down her back.
I take my shirt off as I walk toward her and come up behind her, now bare-chested. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her flush against me, breathing her in, before I slide my hands beneath the hem of my shirt, my palms resting over her lower belly.
Ellis leans back against me with a sigh, resting her head against my shoulder.
“Has he moved at all tonight?” I ask against her neck, my thumbs making small circles over her warm skin.
“A little bit, but maybe he’s in a food coma now,” she giggles, her hands rising to cover mine. “He seems to be active when I lay down lately, though.”
I turn her around in my arms until she’s facing me. In the dim light of the fireplace, her makeup-free face is stunning. My shirt swallowing her frame makes her look soft, and utterly mine.
I reach out and trace her lower lip with my thumb.
“I really love this,” I rasp.
“Love what?” she asks, looking up at me through her lashes.
“This,” I say, gesturing between us. “Us sleeping in the same bed. Waking up with you. Having your clothes mixed in with mine. Seeing our dogs together.”
She looks at me, her eyes softening into something unshielded. She reaches up, framing my jaw with her hands.
“I love it too, Brody,” she confesses. “When I’m here by myself, it feels empty now. And I find myself looking at the clock every day, waiting for your call or for you to pick me up, or counting the minutes till I can leave and head to Jersey.”
I don’t say a word.
Instead, I lean down and capture her mouth in a deep, slow, possessive kiss that tastes sweet and minty. My hands slide down her back, cupping her ass and lifting her slightly until her toes barely touch the floor.
Ellis lets out a soft, breathless gasp into my mouth, her arms wrapping tightly around my neck, her fingers digging into the muscles of my shoulders.