“Hello, Ma’am. Mr. Scott sent this up for you.” He holds up a bag for me to view.
I’m still torn when my phone pings.
Beau: Danny will be bringing you some things.
“What’s your name, sir?”
“Danny.” He smiles from the other side.
I crack open the door and immediately smell food. The baby kicks or high-fives me from the inside. I smile because I’m still getting used to the feeling of him moving around.
“Thank you.” I’m full of gratitude when I accept the bag. He stops me before I can close the door.
“Wait. I also have orders to bring other items inside.”
I allow him entry, and he pushes a cart inside, goes straight to the kitchen, and starts unpacking the items. Beau bought groceries. The refrigerator and pantry are full by the time he finishes.
The older gentleman heads to the door once he’s done.
“Uh, thank you. I would tip you, but…”
“Don’t worry about it, Ma’am. Mr. Scott already took care of it. You just have a good day.”
My stomach grumbles. I dig everything out of the bag and line it up in front of me. It’s bittersweet. It’s the food from his favorite breakfast spot. Every item we had that morning is staring back at me. The baby kicks me again; I take it as my sign to eat. I send Beau a text because I’m truly happy to be eating.
Me: Got it. Thank you.
* * *
Beau
This is all weird and wrong. This tension is not Celeste and me. Neither are these dry ass text messages. Our messages are full of jokes and naughty promises, not bare bones communication reserved for strangers. I wrapped things up early because I can’t concentrate.
Father.
It still taunts me. How? I know how it happened; what I don’t know is why. Why did she keep this from me? Her speech last night was enough to shut me up, but it didn’t make me less mad or frustrated. The betrayal still radiates, hitting me bone-deep.
“I’d just hoped we could make love and settle this peacefully.”
I want to bang my head on the steering wheel. I still want her; that hasn’t changed. Her comparing me to Wes pissed me off. And her assumption that I didn’t want her there hurt my feelings. I just want answers. Granted, my approach wasn’t the most conducive approach to having an adult conversation. She was hungry, and that was on me. I did practically kidnap her and lock her up without the proper nourishment. I’d stayed away to calm my inner turmoil, but it didn’t help. The moment things got tense, I snapped.
I jump out of my SUV and hand the keys to the valet. Today, we will go to pick up her items. I will officially move her in with me. My heart thuds the closer I get to the door. I haven’t seen her since she locked herself in one of my guestrooms. It makes sense despite the irrational part of me that wanted her to sleep next to me. It’s all fucked up.
I find her on the couch. Her hair is up but a few escaped tendrils tease her neck. Her big hazel eyes connect with me for a moment. She’s beautiful. My dissatisfaction with the strain between us deepens.
“I’m going to change then we’ll get your stuff.” My tone is gruff. I can’t seem to help it.
She looks back down at her phone in lieu of responding; her free hand absently rubs her belly. It’s all too surreal for me. Celeste being on my couch would be amazing enough. Celeste moving in with me because she’s pregnant is still a bit much for me to process.
I ditch my suit and loafers in exchange for jeans, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes.
“Let’s go,” I tell her over my shoulder as I hold open the door.
The tension between us was thick in the house, it’s almost unbearable in the cab of my vehicle. Celeste’s jaw clenches and unclenches, and she clasps her phone as if I mean to rip it out of her hand at any moment.
I’m surprised when her directions lead me to the Dewberry residence. I’m relieved to know that she and my baby were in good hands.My baby.My heart skips a few beats.
Trudy greets us, her eyes warming up in surprise when she sees me. She locks eyes with Celeste.
