Chapter Seventeen
chapter seventeen
PAIGE
“Hey, Paige. There’s a delivery for you.”
I glance up from the email I’m typing and find Janet standing in my doorway, along with a gentleman holding a lunch box.
“Thanks, Janet.”
She retreats, and I move toward the gentleman.
“Paige Abrams?” the gentleman verifies.
“That’s me.”
He smiles and then sets the lunch box on the edge of the sofa. He unzips it and pulls out a container of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream, followed by a jar of pickles.
“For you,” he says, like it’s perfectly normal to deliver pickles and ice cream.
Before I can ask who these are from, he says, “Oh! There’s a message too.”
He pulls a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to me.
“Thank you,” I say, confused—but delighted—that someone has sent me my two favorite items.
I grab a ten-dollar bill from my purse, but the gentleman shakes his head.
“No can do. I was already tipped and told not to accept one from you.”
He nods once and then exits my office, leaving me with my ice cream, pickles, and a note.
After storing the goods in my mini fridge, I sit down and open the note.
Princess,
I look forward to dinner tonight. Here are a few essential items to help get you through your day.
XO,
Your Prince
My thoughts go back to our time in London, the night I got drunk…
“I wish you were my prince,” I murmur, tears sliding down my face as Nate tucks the blanket around me.
“I do too,” he whispers, swiping his thumb across my cheek to wipe the tears away as my eyes close. “Now, sleep, Princess. I’ve got you.”
“What’s wrong?” Ana asks, making me jump.
When I glance up, she’s blurry, and I realize I was tearing up at the memory.
“Nothing,” I say with a laugh, trying to play it off. “You know how it is. Pregnancy hormones are going to be the death of me. ”
Ana nods in understanding and sits in the visitor seat across from me. “I get it, but generally, there’s a reason for crying.”
“I found Nate.”
Ana’s eyes bulge. “What? When?”
“Yesterday.”
“And I’m only now hearing about this? And only because I came to you! What the hell, Paige?”
“It was all so much,” I say with a sigh. “One minute, I was running late from my checkup, and the next, I was standing in the conference room, staring into his whiskey-colored eyes. For a second, I thought I was imagining shit.”
“I bet!” she exclaims. “How did he find you?”
“He always knew how to. He had my full name, and I told him I worked for Kingston. I just thought he’d respect my wishes when I told him what happened in London needed to stay in London.”
“Well, thank God he didn’t listen! So, he just showed up?”
“Not quite. He’s Nathan Bradford…with?—”
“Holy shit! Bradford Hotels!” Ana shrieks, bouncing in her seat. “They’re partnering with Kingston.”
“I know,” I say with a laugh.
“Of course you do.” She rolls her eyes. “Sorry, I’m just so excited. You found your baby daddy!” She eyes me skeptically. “Which has me wondering why you aren’t more excited.”
“I am,” I say with a half-smile.
“Oh, yeah, I can tell you’re just jumping for joy.” Her brows pinch together. “Wait, is that why you were crying? Did he say something? Do something? I’ll murder him in his sleep.”
“Easy there, killer.” I chuckle. “I wasn’t crying. I was tearing up because he had pickles and ice cream delivered with a note, and it made me emotional.”
“Awww, that’s so sweet. So, I’m assuming that means he knows about the baby?”
“He does. I told him after our meeting, and then we went to dinner to talk.”
“Okay…and?”
“And he’s excited. He’s always wanted to be a dad…”
“But…” she prompts because she knows me too well.
“He lives in Dallas.”
“Oh.” She deflates.
“Yeah,” I agree. “He says we have time to figure it out, but I don’t know how that’s possible when he runs an entire company four hours away from where I live and work. And even if we take ourselves out of the equation, what will that mean for our baby?”
Tears of frustration fill my eyes, and Ana rounds the desk to pull me into her arms. I stand, and we hug for several minutes while I get it out.
Once I’m calm, she says, “Don’t stress about this, Paige. I know it’s easier said than done, but things have a way of working themselves out. I know that firsthand.”
I sniffle back a sob and nod. “I know. It’s just so hard. Spending time with him last night felt so natural. It was like we picked up right where we’d left off in London. Only there’s this giant elephant in the room.”
“How did you guys leave things?”
“He asked me to dinner again and then had my favorite ice cream and pickles delivered to me this morning.”
“That’s so sweet.” Ana swoons. “Just like in a romance book. Speaking of which, we need to figure out when we’re having our book club meeting.” She pouts. “We haven’t rescheduled it since you and Kira found out you were pregnant.”
“Yes, that’s definitely at the top of my priority list,” I joke.
“It should be. Reading is the ultimate escape.”
“Yeah, well, right now, I need to deal with my reality.”
We talk a little longer about Nate and then move on to how her little ones are doing, which leads to her inviting me over for a barbecue this weekend.
“You should invite Nate,” she suggests. “It will give us a chance to get to know him. Regardless of what you guys decide, he’s your baby daddy.”
“Will you stop calling him that?” I laugh. “You make it sound so scandalous. But we’ll see. I don’t know what his plans are. He says he’s staying in a hotel for the next few weeks, but I don’t know if he’s planning to fly back home.”
“Okay, well, it’s an open invitation,” Ana says, standing. “And you’d better update me on your date tonight. I’ll be in my office tomorrow morning with breakfast and coffee.”
With a wink, she strolls out.
I pull my phone out and type in Nate’s name—as I input it yesterday, when he asked to exchange info. Then, I type out a message.
Thank you for the ice cream and pickles.
Within seconds, he texts back.
You’re welcome. See you tonight.
The thought of dressing up and going out to dinner after working all day sounds exhausting, so I send him back a text, ignoring how intimate it sounds.
I was thinking we could order in tonight instead of going out.
Sounds good. Text me once you’re ready for me to come over. I’m just at my hotel, working remotely.
“Do I dress up or dress comfortably?”
I texted Nate that I’m home and he’s welcome to come over whenever he wants, but when I started to take off my work clothes, I realized I had no idea what to put on, so I video-called Ana.
“You’re at home and pregnant. Nobody will judge you for dressing comfortably.”
“Yeah, but…”
“But what? You’re attracted to him, so you want to look your best because you’re pregnant and horny and you haven’t gotten laid in four months?”
“Jesus, Ana,” I grumble. “You got all that from me barely saying two words?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know Nate, but I know Julian, and he doesn’t care what I wear if I’m willing to give it up.”
She waggles her brows, and I groan because she isn’t wrong. A part of me is worried about the baby’s and my future, but the other—horny—part of me remembers how good Nate was in bed and wonders if he’d be interested in scratching my itch.
“God, this is so complicated.” I groan into my hand.
“Is it though?” Ana asks. “You like him, and he likes you…”
“And he lives over two hundred miles away.”
“Oh, I meant the sex.” She grins innocently when she’s anything but.
“Goodbye,” I mutter dryly. “I need to go figure out my clothing situation.”
“I vote for pajamas,” she says with a laugh. “Oh! Or something sexy, like lingerie.”
“Goodbye,” I repeat.
“Tomorrow morning, breakfast. I can’t wait to hear all the juicy details!” is the last thing she says before I click End on the call.
“Did I misunderstand?” Nate glances down at my heels and then lets his gaze roam up my body with an appreciative but confused look. “I thought we were ordering in.”
Despite wanting to wear comfy pajamas—and sexy lingerie was a hard no—I went with a cute plaid skirt, a stretchy, long-sleeved black top, and heeled black boots. Nate and I are still getting to know each other, and I didn’t want to appear like a slob who’s letting myself go only a few months into my pregnancy.
John hated when we had people over and I dressed for comfort instead of to impress. He’d always say that people judged based on looks and the last thing you wanted was for people to think lowly of you because of how you dressed.
But the second I look at Nate—dressed in a pair of gray sweats, a white T-shirt that molds to his sculpted body, and a pair of Crocs—I immediately chide myself for letting dumbass John get inside my head.
Oh well. It’s too late now.
“No.” I shake my head. “You didn’t misunderstand.”
Without waiting for him to respond, I open the door wider so he can come in, and then I show him around my place since it’s his first time being in here. It’s a three-bedroom, two-bath home, and since it’s only me, I use one room as a home office and the other as a guest room that’s never been used since I don’t really have any family coming to visit and the few friends I have live nearby.
“I’m planning to turn that room into the nursery,” I tell him.
“You have a beautiful home,” he says. “It’s exactly how I pictured it.”
“Thank you,” I say, trying to hide my wince as we walk back out to the living room. My boots might be cute, but they’re sure as hell not comfortable.
“Come here,” Nate says, sitting on the couch and patting the spot next to him.
Once I join him, he lifts my feet into his lap and then unzips and pulls one boot off and then the other, making me audibly sigh.
As he massages one of my feet, I lie back on the couch and enjoy it. Being pregnant has changed my body. I haven’t put on a bunch of weight yet, but I’m sore, and my feet tend to swell. I looked it up, and the pregnancy sites say it’s due to water retention.
“I think we’re passed dressing up for each other,” Nate says with a soft smile as he works the arch of my foot expertly. “You should be comfortable when you’re pregnant, and I don’t care what you wear. Besides, wearing shoes this tall seems dangerous. What if you fall?”
“Trust me, I’m a pro at wearing heels.” I wave him off. “My ex always said we’re judged by the way we look and dress. He wouldn’t so much as go to the grocery store without dressing properly. I guess his views kind of rubbed off on me.”
“I get it,” Nate admits. “In our line of work, everything is about appearances. But here in your home, when you’re with me, I want you to be comfortable.” He releases one foot and starts working on the other. “This is a judgment-free zone. Besides” —he smirks— “I know how gorgeous this body is under the clothes. I don’t give a fuck what you wear.”
“Trust me, that body you remember is changing.” I lift my shirt and expose my newly protruding belly. “So, hopefully, you memorized it because I don’t think it will ever be the same.”
Nate stops massaging my foot and sets it aside, then leans in, placing his hand on my belly. “You’re carrying our baby in here. Whatever changes occur will only make you that much more gorgeous.” He dips his head and presses a soft kiss to the spot just on top of my belly button. “I can’t wait to watch you grow with our baby.”
He glances up at me, and my breath hitches at the way his eyes shine with awe and love. A look nobody has given me since my mom was alive. Sure, John said he loved me, and he was attracted to me, but he never, in all the years we dated, looked at me like I was…everything.
“Thank you,” I choke out, my emotions getting the better of me.
“You don’t have to thank me for being honest,” Nate says, sitting back up and scooting closer so my legs are sprawled across his lap. “Now, what should we order for dinner?”
“Oh my God, this is sooo good,” I moan, taking a bite of the chicken chow mein straight from the container.
After we decided on Chinese, since I couldn’t pick one dinner, Nate ordered a little bit of everything. At the time, I thought he was crazy, but as I chow down on the various foods in front of me, I happen to think he’s a genius.
“Try this,” Nate says with a chuckle, lifting a crab rangoon to my mouth. “They’re delicious.”
I take a bite and moan as the perfect mix of cream cheese and crab hits my taste buds. “So good,” I agree.
Once I’ve chewed and swallowed my bite, I grab a piece of the honey garlic chicken and pop it into my mouth. It’s sweet, and the chicken is tender yet crispy.
“Try this.” I fork a piece and lean over to give Nate a bite, but before it reaches his mouth, the honey-covered chicken falls off my fork and rolls down the front of his white shirt. “Shit,” I say, jumping up. “I’m so sorry. Let me see if I have a shirt for you to change into.”
“It’s okay.” He laughs. “I doubt you have anything that will fit me.”
I actually know for certain that I do, but that will mean…
I glance at his shirt that’s now covered in stickiness, debating if I should just let him stay like that or if I should try to wash it or…
When he attempts to wipe the honey off and it smears, making it worse, I head to my room, yelling over my shoulder, “Give me a minute, and I’ll try to find you something.”
I grab the shirt from my drawer and bring it out to him. “Here, this should fit you.”
He glances down at the gray shirt with the Aspen skiing logo that’s identical to the shirt he wore during our time in London and smirks.
“You stole my shirt?” he asks, but it’s a rhetorical question because he already knows I did. He wore it to bed, and after we made love, I put it on and kept it.
“Just take the damn thing,” I say with a huff, my face heating from embarrassment.
I extend my hand out for him to take the shirt, but instead of him grabbing it, he tugs on the fabric, jerking me toward him until I’m situated on his lap, my legs straddling him.
“I love that you kept a piece of me,” he murmurs, his face only a breath away from mine. “Tell me, Princess, did you sleep with it on?”
His gaze locks with mine, and the fire in his eyes has me squirming.
“Yes,” I admit, making him growl under his breath.
He brings the shirt up to his nose and inhales, and I cover my face with my hands.
“You haven’t washed it,” he murmurs. “It smells like me…and you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. “I’m a freaking weirdo who stole your shirt and slept with it every night without washing it because it smelled like you.”
“Nothing about that is weird,” he says, lifting my chin so I’m forced to look at him. “You remember the silky underwear you wore to the wedding? The pair I pocketed?”
I nod, remembering that when I left, I was pantyless, but I was too upset about having to end things with Nate to give it much thought. I went back to my room, changed, and then sulked for the rest of my time in London.
“They’re currently in my drawer at my house…unwashed.” He smirks devilishly, and my insides knot. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve smelled them to get a whiff of your essence.”
He glides his hand around to the back of my head and entangles his fingers in my hair. “I’ve done nothing but think about you the past four months.” He tilts my head to the side and then leans in, audibly inhaling my scent. “About the way you smell.” He runs his nose along my neck. “Your soft, smooth skin.” As he peppers kisses along my jaw, warmth spreads through my body. “Your sweet taste,” he murmurs against my lips, giving me a chance to back away.
When I make no move to stop him, he takes that as my approval, and then his mouth connects with mine in a searing, toe-curling kiss. And just like that, my body goes from warm to on fire as I get lost in everything that is Nate.
His fingers tighten in my hair as he deepens the kiss, and I shift slightly, turned on and desperate for the connection only Nate can give me.
When my pelvis grinds against his and I feel his hard length between my legs, only my panties and his sweats creating a barrier between us, I gasp and pull back.
“What are we doing?” I breathe, wondering how the hell we went from eating Chinese to devouring one another.
“Most people call it kissing,” Nate says with a boyish grin.
“You know what I mean.” I glare as I try to climb off him.
He releases my hair to grip my hips to prevent me from moving. “Stop. I know,” he says. “But we don’t have to have it all figured out. Right now, I’m just so damn happy to have you back in my arms when, four months ago, I thought I’d never get to see you again, let alone kiss you.”
He kisses me once again, and when I squirm in his lap, unable to hide how turned on I am, he says, “Let me take care of you.”
And because I’m pregnant and horny and in need of a release, instead of saying no, like I probably should, I say, “Okay.”