I stood up, my head throbbing a little at the movement but better than it had been, and stepped over to Jack and Teddy.
“You’re going to get puked on.” I didn’t know what else to say. ‘That baby looks good on you’ or ‘I think I’m ovulating’ didn’t seem appropriate.
“Wouldn’t be the first time. Washing machines exist.” He eyed me, raising a brow and then gave a wide grin. “Do you want to hold him?”
I flinched. “I’m not sure…”
“He’s big enough now that you don’t need to support his head. Trust me, you’ll know what to do, just relax.” He placed Teddy in my arms and stepped behind me, supporting the baby at the same time.
Teddy weighed more than he looked, chubby arms and legs moving about. Warmth seeped through me, the smell of him making me inhale deeply and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to put him down.
Jack kissed the back of my neck, his hands still over mine just in case holding Teddy was too much. “How would I have one of these and run my restaurants?”
“Teamwork.” His answer was quick. “Hard work. Living on little sleep.”
Teddy giggled.
“That noise.” I managed to take my eyes off the baby and looked at Jack.
“I know.”
“We should talk.”
“We should always be talking.”
He was right. I needed to ask him about Rebecca.
Chapter 18
Jack
Two am had always been my time. This was when I’d sit with the house quiet, when the rest of the city seemed to slumber, apart from those, who like me, needed that space just to exist.
Simone was asleep, dark hair spread across white pillowcases, the duvet wrapped around her legs, exposing one of her tits as she’d slept naked. When I’d seen her I’d been tempted to wake her by sucking on her nipple, making her wet and then burying myself deep in her body, wanting to feel her pulse around my cock as she came.
But she’d looked too peaceful, finally settled, her head having stopped pounding. She’d managed to do a little work on the menus and accounts today, just for an hour or so, my mother hovering around making sure she didn’t look too pale.
We had the funeral in two days. The arrangements were made, people made aware of the time and the venue. Although Robert had left a will, he’d left no instructions for a funeral, which didn’t surprise me. He’d once said that funerals were for the living, not for the dead. Part of me wondered if he’d be hanging round in spirit form, looking to see who came, but if that was true he’d be off any place else, where there were fewer people, where he could blend in.
The room was bathed in blues and copper, a heavy velvet curtain across the window. It was peaceful, maybe my favourite room in the house. My parents were on the top floor, as was Lauren in the bedroom she’d claimed as hers. I hadn’t spoken to her yet about the future, we needed to have the funeral first, but she’d mentioned something about bringing more stuff over at some point.
“How was work?”
Simone stood at the doorway wearing a silky grey dressing gown. Her nipples were outlined through the material, tits heavy against it. Lauren and my parents slept like they’d been drugged so I had no worries about anyone else seeing her like this.
“It was busy. But everything is okay. I checked on Blue and Mount Street too. We’ve had eight applications from experienced chefs and another fourteen from less experienced but not shit either. When you’re up to interviewing I’ll get something arranged.”
She walked in the room, closing the door behind her. “Next week. If you think you’ll be up to it after the funeral.”
“I miss him.” Even though there would be weeks between seeing him and endless hours of worry and anger at what he put us through, I had loved the bastard.
“I know.”
“I feel guilty because of what I have. He never had that.”
“He chose his way of life, Jack. He had opportunity to get therapy, help. It was there.”
“It was too hard for him.”
