“Really,” Maggie said. “Honestly? They love you. They love that you’re not pretending to be anything other than yourself. They love how Jordan looks at you. People aren’t stupid, they know a love story when they see it.”
After we hung up, I just lay there against his chest, listening to the sound of Jordan’s heartbeat under my ear. I thought about Cali and Miami, the endless travel, the cameras, the scrutiny. The truth was, I didn’t have the strength for it right now. Not with a baby kicking inside me that I needed to focus on, not with my face splashed across headlines for all the wrong reasons.
“I think I should stay here,” I murmured, almost afraid to say it aloud. “Skip America. Just…lie low for a while. Let it all blow over.”
Jordan didn’t hesitate. His hand tightened around mine. “Then we do that. Whatever makes you feel safe, babe.”
And for the first time that day, I felt like I could breathe.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Kate
May
I stood at the mirror,smoothing the black cotton of my dress over my gigantic bump. Thirty-six weeks. Still flying.
The midwife and consultant had given me the green light and signed off the papers. No signs of anything imminent, everything looking strong. No complications. Just constant peeing and an alarming addiction to pretzels.
Jordan was more nervous about the idea than I was, but I’d promised him: just Rome, then home to wait. His medical team had even linked up with the local maternity hospital, just in case.
The house felt calm again. Even after the chaos a few weeks ago when my name had been dragged through headlines. An experience I wouldn’t wish on anyone. For days, I’d barely been able to lift my head, convinced the world believed every word of it. But Jordan hadn’t left my side until he had to leave for America. The lawyers had done their job. The article was gone; a settlement had been reached. And slowly, I’d remembered how to breathe again.
Now, I wasn’t naïve enough to think it was over. That kind of noise never really went away. But this morning, with Rome ahead of us, I wanted to believe we’d weathered the worst of it.
In the mirror, Jordan appeared behind me freshly showered, hands tucked into the pockets of his joggers.
He watched me for a moment as though he were admiring the view. “God, you’re beautiful.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re biased; you have to say that.”
“I am. But I’m right.”
He walked over and kissed my shoulder, his warm lips against skin.
“You sure you’re okay with this trip?” he asked. “You don’t have to go.”
“I want to,” I cut in gently. “It’s only a few days. Then I’m home, feet up, nesting like a lunatic. I missed you too much last time.” While he left for the States, I’d hidden, licking my wounds while he faced the cameras alone. But not this time. Rome felt different.Wefelt different.
He smiled, with a warm, protective hand coming to rest on my belly, rubbing gently over the stretch of cotton.
“He’ll love Rome.”
“I’ll be honest, I’m only coming for the gelato,” I said.
He grinned.
My suitcase was packed. So was my hospital bag, just in case. I wasn’t an idiot. I’d tucked it into the car, wedged behind the snacks and the overpriced pillow that was currently saving my hips.
We were heading to the airport within the hour. Jordan had a few things lined up: press, light training, sponsor stuff. He was locked in as usual, but more relaxed this time. Entirely focused, but had a glow to him in that quiet way he got when he knew he was ready.
And I’d be there. Front row. Huge bump. Big sunglasses. Cheering on my man in one of the most romantic cities in the world.
Just one last trip before we settled in to wait.
?******
“Bloody hell, do you need a warning sign for the size of that?” Chris whistled when he saw me.
