“Is that so?” I don’t try to hide the skepticism in my voice. “Maybe we should still go to dinner. I’m sure you have a fascinating reason why you thought 'today or tomorrow, ‘depending on the mail,’ would be the magical day to tell me I got you pregnant five months ago!”
I can’t help the slight rise in my voice. My heart is thumping in my chest because anger and betrayal are the top two things I’m feeling right now.
“Beau, now is not the time to freak out; we should talk about this later.” Her tone is placating, and it irks me more.
“So, you decide when we talk about this?”
Celeste rubs her temples like I’m frustrating her. “No, but sitting in the exam room after an ultrasound while waiting for the doctor to come in to confirm if the baby is healthy or not, is not the right time for this conversation.”
Her statement gives my mouth pause, but I’m still mad at being left in the dark. I scowl at her until her doctor knocks and pops in for a second to tell us we’re good to go.
Celeste prepares to leave as if being near me is the last thing she wants. It hurts because seeing her is the only thing I’ve wanted for months. Now that we’re here, it’s going nothing like I’d imagined. She has her coat on and her purse slung over her shoulder before I can speak again.
I grab her hand and pull her back to me. Her hazel eyes focus on the window over my shoulder. That’s not going to work. I grab her chin and force her to look at me.
“We will discuss this later, but there’s one thing I want to make clear now. There won’t be any more hiding from me. I offered to help you months ago. You refused, and I gave you the space you needed to do things on your terms. That changes today. You’re moving in with me. It’s non-negotiable. I need to know you and my son are okay.”
Celeste doesn’t respond outside of a tight nod of her head, but the weird mood between us lingers. Our walk back to my office to get my car is strained and awkward like we’re strangers forced to travel together. Neither one of us speaks until we open the door to my place in town. I can tell by her confusion she thought the beach house was my only home.
While it’s not as expansive as the five-bedroom beach house, my three-bedroom penthouse is still a reflection of money. Not that I care. It’s not my goal to throw my fortune into anyone’s face. I just like what I like. If I really like something, I don't care about the cost. My penthouse was the only place I could see myself living after I accepted that I have to live as a single man.
It isn’t on the beach, which was a plus then, and the building has perks and amenities that I cannot get with a house. Plus, when I’d purchased it, I was happy that it was far away from all of the Chesterfields and their jurisdiction. Now, I’m extremely happy that it’s also far away from Emma and her bullshit.
I wave to the security guard on duty and escort her to the top floor. Celeste looks around the building with a sense of awe that would be cute if I wasn’t angry. Her bulky charcoal jacket makes it hard to tell that she’s pregnant.
Pregnant.
There’s that word again. It’s amazing how one word has the power to leave me stunned. It’s crazy wrapping my mind around the notion that I will be responsible for a little life in four short months.
The ping from the elevator brought me back, and the sliding of the door propelled me forward. I still have a lot of work to do. Quickly, I unlock the door and hold it open for Celeste. I’ve looked forward to this moment. I’ve wanted to have Celeste in my personal domain, to bring her into my world, to make love to her in the bed I consider as my own. I’ve pictured this in my head since we’d gone our separate ways, and despite the numerous scenarios I’ve created over the months since the hurricane, I never considered this one.
The warmth of my home has Celeste stripping in minutes. I watch with fascination despite my sour disposition. I can never deny her beauty or how my body reacts to being near her. Without the layers, she’s still as sexy as I remember in her black leggings and tight purple t-shirt. Her belly is the only difference.
My hormones—coupled with the part of me that missed her like crazy—suggests I blow off the rest of the day and take her in the room to show her just how much I missed her. My emotions are on a different page. My emotions want me to yell at her, but I also know that is counterproductive. I choose to do the best I can do for the moment.
“Make yourself comfortable. I will be back in a few hours.” I continue when Celeste frowns at me. “I need to finish some things at work. I’ve already taken an extended lunch break.”
I sound cold even to my own ears, but it’s better than yelling. I step into the hallway without a backward glance. The soft click of my door locking has me pausing in the hallway. I turn to reenter, ready to forget the rest of my day and hash it out with Celeste, yet touching the cold metal knob stops me in my tracks. I can’t. Not right now. I rest my head on the door as if I can feel her energy through it. Later. Now that I know exactly where she’ll be later, I don’t feel the pressing need to solve this. I need to think. I need to know what I want out of our inevitable conversation.
Celeste
This is a shit show.As soon as Beau leaves, I flop onto the plush-leather, deep- chocolate sofa.Fuck, that’s comfortable.I settle in more, laying on my side and snuggling up to a pillow. I let out a content sigh when I find the perfect spot.
I ask myself out loud the question that has rattled around my head a hundred times since his green eyes bore into mine in the exam room.
“How did he find me?”
I was both stunned and happy to see him standing there looking sexier than I remember. My body had instantly reacted to the sight of him looming in the door with eyes wild and a well-tailored charcoal suit clinging to his body under a black peacoat. Damn. It didn’t take long for his dark eyebrows to lower from surprise to disappointment, thus leaving me where I am now. In another fancy home all alone. I’m not being dramatic. I know he needs to work, but I also suspect he would have tried to find a way to wiggle out of it if we were on better terms.
I yawn because the couch is cradling my body in all the right ways. I need to come up with a plan to smooth things over, but my eyelids say otherwise. I smile as I rub my belly. Little man zaps my energy, and his dad is going to be hard to handle when he returns. After another heartfelt yawn, his luxury penthouse is replaced with darkness.
I awake with a start, and my brain takes a moment to discern my location. Beau’s place. It’s dark; I feel for my phone until I find it in the dark. No missed calls and no text messages. I’m not that popular, plus my parents, Trudy, Ernest, and Brett know where I am. They weren’t who I was hoping to hear from anyway. It’s been more than a few hours since Beau returned to work. He must be furious. I stretch my limbs and roll my shoulders to loosen some of the tension. Of course, all the downfalls of being pregnant attack me at once. I’m super hungry, and I need to pee like a drunk.
I use the flashlight on my phone to light my way as I waddle off to find a bathroom. My waddle—knees together and toes pointed—inward has nothing to do with my pregnancy and everything to do with keeping the pee inside my body. I curse myself for not giving myself a tour before falling asleep as I wander around the blasted apartment. I sigh happily when I find the master bathroom. I thank God and everybody when I plop down on the toilet to relieve myself. I barely made it; I want to cry in relief. My urine sounds almost angry as it hits the water in the silent bathroom.
My surroundings begin to kick in—copper tub, stone floors, rain shower—fancy. I’m used to fancy finishes because I lived with my ex-demon for several years, but Beau has taste. Wes only cared if the item was expensive. Beau’s houses have the fanciness I would expect from a rich person with the taste and class I would hope came with such a station in life.
I survey the shower once I finish my business. My nap did make me kind of sweaty… The more clothes I lose, the more erotic it feels being in Beau’s domain. I turn on the shower, adjust the water temperature to my liking, then step under the spray. Despite all of the turmoil between us, I smile to myself as I lather my body. I’ve come full circle. I’m back at Beau’s place with nothing but the clothes on my back and at the mercy of his toiletries. The memories I’ve suppressed wash over me like the droplets of water. My desire to be back in Beau’s arms spurs my recollection of our time together.
