CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Beth
When I get home Nash insists I relax on the sofa while he orders delivered take out.
“Do you ever cook?” I ask him, tucked under the soft blanket on the couch.
“Like with a stove and stuff?”
“Yeah, pots, pans or even a toaster?”
He rolls his eyes at me as if my question was completely absurd. “I can make toast, sweetheart. I spread some mean jam too, in case you ever have cravings for strawberry jam on lightly toasted bread, then I am your man.”
My man? If only I could trust that to be true beyond the point of jam on toast.
“So you’re quite a technical breakfast cook then?”
“Yes, one might say that.” He lifts my feet to slide in under them, uncovering my feet he begins to massage them.
“Can I ask you how often you impress women with your culinary breakfast skills?”
“Are we back to asking me about the women I have been with, sweetheart?”
“No, well yes, kind of I guess.” I suck my lip into my mouth, nibbling the skin. Cringing at hearing the truth of just how experienced Nash was with women. I watch as the tip of his own tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip.
“If I said I was celibate before you I doubt you would believe me, you have already claimed I have a harem of sluts remember.” Tucking my feet away again, he stands only to kneel in front of me. Taking my hands in his.
“I remember. So does that mean you aren’t going to tell me?”
“How many men have you had breakfast with, Beth?” He counters, turning the question back on me.
I should’ve been expecting that since I had initiated the line of inquisition, but I hadn’t been prepared to answer it myself. “None, I’ve never been asked to stay for breakfast.”
“So what makes you think I have?”
“I’m well aware of your charm, Nash and I’m also acutely aware of how good in bed you are. Clearly.” I pat my stomach where our baby was growing.
“Acutely aware huh? Does that mean you are thinking of me naked right now? Maybe a few flashbacks?”
“Maybe.” I challenge him with an arched brow. In one movement, his body is on mine, caging me in against the cushions. A nip at my ear shoots my pulse racing.
“Sixteen.”
“Sixteen?”
“That is how many women I have slept with, sweetheart. None of them have been invited for breakfast.” There is a knock on the door, but he doesn’t move away from me, instead, he nuzzles my neck. “None of them have caused my dick to get hard from the sound of their voice or smell of their perfume.”
There is another knock, longer, louder and more insistent now. Nash curses under his breath and leaves me to answer the door. I can feel my heart almost beating out of my chest; the blood is rushing in my ears.
He comes back into the room a short time later with a grocery bag.
“Hungry, sweetheart?” I certainly am now, but not for soup.
I follow him into the kitchen and wrap my arms around his waist, whilst he is fussing with the bag. Tugging his shirt free from his waistband I slide it up his back.
“Sweetheart, what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m satisfying my appetite.”
“Beth, stop.” He spins to face me and places his hands on my shoulders. “I can’t believe I am saying this to you, but you need to stop.”
“Give me one reason to. Or are you no longer interested in me now I am pregnant?”
He drops one hand from my shoulders, takes my hand in his and holds it to his groin; I can feel his dick hardening through the fabric of his pants. “Beyond interested. You are the sexiest and most infatuating woman I have ever met, but right now I really want you to have something to eat.”
“Fine! I’ll eat something, but I do not appreciate being bossed around.” And in complete betrayal of my body, my stomach growls. Nash raises an eyebrow at me as the corner of his mouth curves into a knowing smirk.
The soup was delicious, and I had managed to keep it down, Nash was clearly pleased with himself.
“Nash, can I ask you something?” We were cuddled on the couch watching some ridiculous comedy on the TV.
“Sure, anything.”
“What do you see happening next?”
“Well, I thought I might go make some tea.”
“No, stud, with this.” I lay my hand over my stomach.
“Well, I was going to wait to tell you but I spoke to Walter this morning actually, he’d met with the board and they have been considering expanding overseas, with Australia being their first choice.”
“I don’t really understand what you mean, so you’ll be traveling here more? I already told you that I can’t have you here part-time. I can’t have you here one minute and leaving the next. It’s not going to work like that, is that how you think this will work?”
“Hang on, Beth, we’re back at this place again?” His tone causes me to sit up straight to look in his eyes. “Are you issuing me an ultimatum?”
“No. Geez. I’m just saying I don’t want to be selfish with your time when you could be out screwing whoever you want to, or at least having the choice to. We aren’t married, we’re not even dating for Christ’s sake. I know asking you to be here is asking a lot; maybe too much, your job is demanding and so is having a baby. I don’t want you to give up on living your life because it was my choice to keep the baby. Having a baby is going to change so much about your life, Nash.” With every word my stomach churns. “I’m offering you an out.”
“I don’t want an out, Bethany.” His eyes narrow at me, taking me all in as if he was weighing up his words carefully.
“Then what do you want?”
“I want this baby with you. I want you to give us a chance. ”
“I can’t see how it can work.”
“This new position is likely to be based here, nothing to say I will be traveling nearly as much.” He runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. “Do you want to give us a chance, Beth? That is the only question right now.”
Did I? “What does it involve? Maybe I need to weigh up the pros and cons.”
“You want to treat me like a business proposition?” His face relaxes.
“Sure. Why not?”
“So what did you have in mind?”
“I have no idea, this is all new to me!”
“New to me too, sweetheart.”
“I promise not to run away from you, but stay and talk to you. How is that?”
“Talking and staying is good. But speaking of staying,” I see him flinch, I can’t believe it, he’s planning on leave already! “I’m going to need to go back to London, soon. I’m waiting on Walter to come back to me with the details to know exactly when.”
“You’re leaving? Well, that is a con.” I quip, with more acid in my tone than I intended.
“I’m not leaving, it’s a business trip. I don’t know exactly when yet or for how long, but I promise you it will only be as long as necessary and not a day more. Therefore I would call that one for the pro column.”
“Will you be here for the first midwife appointment?”
“Yes, no matter when or how there is no way I would miss it, sweetheart.”
“Okay, Nash. Will you stay with me the weekend?”
“I can’t believe you even have to ask. I will show you how this can be a pro for the both of us. But isn’t that how this all started in the first place?”
“You don’t have to look so smug about it. Con.”
Waking up on Saturday morning wrapped in Nash’s arms was beginning to feel comfortable and that was scary; I enjoyed feeling the warmth and strength of his arms draped around my waist. Holding me tight, like it was just the three of us in this little world we’d created. It painted a pretty picture, of a life I didn’t know could exist but I was still waiting for the shoe to drop and for the dream life of the perfect family to turn to smoke. Waking me abruptly from the illusion.
“Nash?” I needed to get up to pee.
“Mmm?”
“I need to get up to use the bathroom.” His hand starts to slide lower on my stomach, the tickling sensation is almost more than I can bear.
“Nash, stop, I really need to pee.”
“Fine, but I have every intention of starting something with you when you get back.” Nash murmurs against my hair before removing his arm, allowing me to escape.
When I return to the bed Nash appears to have gone back to sleep, I snuggle back in with him watching his chest rise and fall with his breathing.
“Sweetheart, are you watching me, again?” Without moving any other muscles he lifts one eyelid to look at me. In a flash, he rolls over and pushes me back into the mattress. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it is rude to stare?”
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you, Nash Gibson, that it is rude to poke?”
As soon as the meaning of my comments registers Nash throws his head back to laugh.
We don’t wake again until it is almost lunchtime, this time Nash is watching me when I open my eyes.
“Hey, hello. You know how creepy this is?”
“Yeah, I’ve been made aware. Only this morning actually.”
“Oh, is that so?” I ask him, innocently as if the whole scene was something new to me.
“Yes it is, now I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”
“Yeah, now you mention it, I could really go for some jam and toast.” I state while keeping a straight face.
“That just so happens to be my specialty. Stay here and I’ll be back.” He plants a quick kiss on my lips and I watch as he climbs from the bed, he slips my silk dressing gown on before he leaves the room.
I lay back against the pillows, listening to the sounds of Nash whistling in the other room and it occurs to me that I’m happy. Genuinely, can’t wipe the smile from my face, contented, endorphin satisfyingly happy.
Maybe it really was a sign that things could actually work for us.