Chapter 45
Charlotte
With my work completed, I could plan for tonight.
I glanced at the time. He would still be at work.
Ellis moved, and I moved off the chair to stretch out some yoga poses again.
I stared at the cute teddy bear that Elliot bought for Ellis.
It smelled like Elliot’s cologne, so I put it in my bedroom instead of Ellis’s.
His bassinet would be in my room to begin with, I justified to myself.
I lay flat on the floor to stretch my back out to give him some space.
“Should I message him?” I asked Ellis.
He pressed against my stomach, and I grinned. My fingers hovered over my phone. Elliot had been kind enough to help me last night and was a complete gentleman. It would be great to stick it to Sam. I avoided her call this morning. Why couldn't she take a hint?
Me: Hi, it’s Charlotte. Is 7 pm okay for you?
I bit my lip as I saw him responding. The three dots danced around until I strangled my phone. He made me feel like a teenager instead of a responsible thirty-plus-year-old woman.
Dr Sexy: Hi Charlotte, I will save your number. That is perfect. I will see you tonight. I hope you had a good day. Feel free to message me at any time.
Me: I had a great day. Ellis has been active, and that is reassuring. I hope you don't work too late. See you tonight.
Dr Sexy: I finish in a couple of hours. I can't wait to see you again. x
I stared at the lowercase kiss.
What did that mean? Oh, no.
As much as I wanted to see that fine ass, my rose bush was out of control. It was my last chance to get some action before Ellis came, and I had an out-of-control '70s bush.
I curse you, fate. Fuck.
I wondered if a long pair of scissors would work.
◆◆◆
I could do this. My long hair was in curls, my make-up was applied to make my eyes pop with a touch of glossy balm on my lips.
I frowned at the thought of my mangled bush.
After setting up a mirror on the toilet seat and a wall for support, I think I did a good job of making it look like Chucky’s hair.
I loved my simple black dress with the gold belt resting just above Ellis. A few accessories and a tiny mist of perfume, and I was ready. This was it—the first real date since…well, since the stick turned pink.
“Okay, Ellis. Mummy can do this,” I told him, patting my stomach, unsure if I was reassuring him or myself.
The bear was judging me as well. His eyes seemed to follow me around the room like a creepy portrait.
I needed him to come out safe and sound, but I would miss carrying him around with me like a kangaroo in my pouch. The buzzer blasted through the apartment, and I grabbed my bag before slipping my designer loafers on. Screw heels, I wanted to walk on the pavement not end up sprawled on it.
The grey suit clung to his shoulders like it was painted on, the white shirt beneath unbuttoned just enough to reveal a triangle of golden skin. My mouth went dry at the hollow of his throat, at the dark stubble shading his jaw. If I reached up on my toes, I could even kiss his sexy stubbled—
“Do I pass your inspection?” The deep voice rumbled between my legs.
No. That was my hormones and celibacy echoing back. The voice came from him.
Heat flooded my cheeks. I'd been staring like a creep. I glanced up sheepishly to see the amusement twinkling in his blue eyes.
“Maybe if you lost a few more buttons on your shirt,” I said with a grin, deciding to go all out.
Elliot's smile didn't widen, but it changed. The amused glint in his blue eyes sharpened into something predatory.
“The night is young, Ms. Hutton.” His gaze dragged over me like a physical touch, lingering where the gold belt accentuated my waist. “Shall we?”
When he offered his arm, I gripped and slammed my door shut harder than I’d meant to.
Elliot's arm tensed beneath my grip as we descended the stairs. “Nervous?”
“Just out of practice,” I said. His pulse jumped where our skin touched—fast and eager.
“You and me both.” He guided me toward the exit, his palm hovering near the small of my back.
I glanced at him. With that face, that car, those hands, he could’ve had anyone. So why me?
“What age are you, Elliot?” I asked curiously.
“Forty-two,” he said, opening the door for me.
Had I been missing out by dating younger men?
Elliot’s manners were old-fashioned, but I loved his care and consideration.
“Am I too old for you?” he asked when I remained silent.
The Bentley’s lights flashed, glinting off his wedding-band tan line. For a second, his eyes weren’t amused but just empty.
“Not at all, Elliot,” I said, sliding into the leather seat. “I was thinking that I should've dated older men.”
His smile unfurled, slow and satisfied. Then his fingers grazed my calf as he tucked my skirt inside, shy of lingering. This was a man who knew how to wait for what he wanted.
And God help me, I wanted him back.
◆◆◆
The night was magical, and by the time my spectacular Seville orange dessert came. I was hooked. His lips were moving, but my eyes were on the four shades of orange on my porcelain plate. We drove forty minutes to reach the fine dining establishment, but it was worth it.
Then his hand darted out, commandeering my spoon.
“Let me.”
He cracked through the burnt-sugar crust, lifting a perfect bite to my mouth. His pupils swallowed the blue of his eyes as I parted my lips.
The taste of zesty sweet oranges with a hint of cream flooded my mouth. The crumbly biscuit gave it a satisfying crunch to the soft dessert. His eyes flared while he gripped the spoon as if he would bend it between his fingers. The stark hunger in his eyes had nothing to do with food.
“I want you, Charlotte,” he said, his voice strained.
I caught the last crumbs on my tongue slowly. His gaze tracked the movement like a starving man watching his last meal.
“Why? I’m about to become a single mother,” I asked, cautious because if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. “Why haven't you been snapped up?
“I was married once. I had a son, fourteen months old,” he said, scraping the spoon along my plate before lifting another spoonful of my dessert.
“Had?” I asked hesitantly before opening my mouth. The taste of the dessert was forgotten as I swallowed it down like cardboard. “What...happened?”
His thumb swiped the corner of my mouth, lingering. “A fall.” The pad of his finger pressed just shy of painful. “Down the stairs.”
My joy when I danced through the apartment with the white stick in my hand, from the first flutter of life I felt in my belly to the immense love I felt for Ellis, tore through my core. To have borne him, loved him, and lost him.
Fingers moved over my cheeks and I realised that he was wiping my tears away. “I’m so sorry, Elliot. I…don't know what to say. I can't imagine—” I broke off because the lump in my throat wouldn't allow me to speak.
“When I saw your ultrasound, it took me back to Elias’s first scan. When I bumped into you in Morrisons, I knew it was fate.”
“Y-your wife?” I asked, horrified, that he might still be married.
His head fell forward, and all I could see was his dark hair. I reached out and stroked the soft strands, allowing my fingers to trail down and linger on his cheeks.
“Julia...she never recovered. The grief destroyed her. Some days, I think she wanted to follow him.”
His voice trembled, and I moved around the table to sit beside him. I placed my hand on his knee, gently rubbing his leg.
“I tried to save her. Therapy, support groups...but she overdosed. I wasn’t enough. God, I should have tried harder.”
“I’m so sorry, Elliot. I’m sure you did what you could.”
No wonder he hadn't been interested in dating. Earlier, he told me it had been over four years since he’s been on a date. His hand clutched mine so tightly that I gasped in pain, but I couldn't imagine his pain.
The poor man.