Chapter Twelve

~James~

We arrived at the hotel and instead of using their valet service, I drove to the top of their parking garage. I knew from staying there once before for a conference that there was an elevator strictly for the penthouses that required a keycard. Unfortunately, this hotel didn’t have the punch codes that I enjoyed so much in Vegas, but you win some you lose some, I supposed.

Also, unlike Vegas, Nicole looked more worried then enamored. Then again, while the elevator was polished to a high shine and ridiculously clear, it wasn’t anything compared to what was inside.

We didn’t say anything as we rode up, nor as the doors opened behind us. It wasn’t until we stepped into the cobalt-blue carpeted hall, crystal candelabras lining the length of the corridor.

There were only two doors in the entire length. One, immediately on the right, the other all the way down the hall and on the left, was my door.

“Wow…” Nicole breathed, looking around.

“A bit more subdued than Vegas, huh?” I asked.

She nodded slowly, her almond, enchanting eyes flitting this way and that. “It’s nice though. Less in your face, still just as pretty.”

“Yeah, I prefer the décor of this place. But I do have to admit that their presidential suite has nothing on the one I had before. But this costs a quarter as much, so such is the way.”

She smirked at that, and I felt the tiniest sliver of our rapport return to us. “Oh, I’m surprised you didn’t just buy the most expensive hotel there was to have.”

“I did,” I shot back, sending her a smooth look. “But even the best presidential suite here can’t quite match up with the land of opulence, but I’ll survive.”

“I hope so. That’d be a terrible way to die.”

I laughed. “Imagine that epitaph. Here lies James, struck down by a five-star hotel with only four-star accommodations.”

“Truly a modern tragedy.”

By the time we had reached the door, we were both all smiles, much of the awkwardness that had built back up between us slipping away again. I slid my keycard and pushed open the door, standing to the side so that Nicole could walk past me.

Even tired eyed and exhausted, she was still a sight to behold. While I had certainly met more glamourous models, or refined movie stars in my time, there was a natural sort of presence to this woman that I couldn’t escape. Like she was some sort of mythical elf or dryad transported to our world and I was just lucky enough for my path to intersect with hers.

Or, maybe that was just my mind trying to build up my connection with her considering my spawn was inside of her.

Ugh, I didn’t like that word. But I also didn’t like referring to it as a baby either, because it wasn’t quite that either. I guess I could just call it a fetus, but that was so detached, clinical even. I guessed I was just gonna go with Bean like Nicole did.

“Take your shoes off and make yourself comfortable. I’ve got some snacks in the mini-fridge if you want them.”

“Thanks,” she said, sighing gratefully as she bent over.

I headed to the small kitchenette myself, intend on grabbing one of the sparkling waters from the fridge, but I didn’t quite get there before I was distracted by a couple of grunts from behind me. Looking back, I saw her struggling with one of her still-sensible heels.

“You okay?” I asked, giving her a sort of curious look.

She continued to struggle for a few minutes before looking to me, slightly red-faced and with a slight sheen of sweat on her brow.

“I’ve got pregnancy feet,” she groaned.

“You have what now?”

She gave me her own look. “Do you really not know?”

I shrugged. “I never thought I would have kids, so I guess my mind’s never bothered to keep any information on that process.”

“Huh. Alright then, I guess I’ll buy that.” She struggled once more before sighing and flinging herself onto the thick, luxurious couch of the sitting area. “My feet and ankles are swollen from all that water retention that comes along with the second and third trimester. And they’ve swollen up so much today that I can’t get my shoes off.”

“That sounds uncomfortable.”

“Bingo.”

I continued my trek to the kitchen, grabbing two bottles of water, then crossed back to her. “Maybe I can help with that.” I handed her the bottle of water and considered her for a moment.

“What?” She asked, raising her eyebrow.

“One moment,” I answered, placing my drink back onto the table and heading to the bathroom. Sure enough, there was a sizable bottle of complementary lotion on the sink and I grabbed it before returning to the couch.

“Move your feet,” I said, pointing to where I wanted to sit. She did so, and once I was settled, I patted my lap again.

“Are you sure?” She was looking at me with wide, uncertain eyes. “They’ve been in there all day. There’s no way they’re going to smell or feel sexy.”

I chuckled at that. “Not everything has to be sexy all the time. If the mother of my child has swollen feet, I’m going to help her out as best I can.”

“…if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

She set her feet in my lap and I went to work on the right shoe. She wasn’t kidding that it was pretty stuck. I had to grip it firmly and wiggle it back and forth until finally it gave up its hold and her puffy, slightly red foot was free.

The sigh of relief she let out was almost comical. I would forever be grateful that I was never born a woman, because I didn’t think I could keep up with all the torturous, annoying things they had to put themselves through not to be shunned by society. Sure, being a man came with its own hang ups, but at least none of them involved me putting cosmetics near my eyes or searing hot irons near my hair to be considered professional.

Setting her shoe on the ground, I moved on to her left foot and gave it the same treatment. Once the things were off, I could see that they were worn well below the footpad inside, and there was even duct tape in a couple of places. I knew better than to comment on that to Nicole, but I resolved that I was going to get her a nice, comfortable pair of professional flats before her next work week started. I didn’t care if she sat at her desk most of the time, if there was a bit of pain I could help her avoid, I was going to do so.

Huh… I was getting wrapped up in this awfully fast. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet, so I knew I needed to slow my roles. And yet, I couldn’t. Between my responsible side and my take charge side, my mind was already trying to formulate the best path moving forward. While I did indeed like to party, business always came first, and I couldn’t imagine any business more important than the life of my child.

Now that both of her feet were bare, I uncapped the lotion and squeezed a generous portion into my hands. I rubbed them together for a few moments, letting it warm, before gently taking one of her feet and letting my fingers glide across it.

She was watching me intensely, and I could tell how nervous she was. I had a feeling that if she wasn’t pregnant and already feeling sore from sleeping in a car for goodness knows how long, she might have declined all together. But the moment I hit the arch of her foot, she let out a groan and her entire head fell back against the plush arm of the couch.

That was more like it. That one grateful little sound reminded me of all the sweet, wanton notes she had hit in Vegas, and I had to focus on the pledge of allegiance before my body started responding and she got the wrong idea.

“How did you get so good at this?” Her voice was practically a heady whine but it was endearing. “Don’t you normally, like, pay someone to do this?”

“My mom had pretty bad rheumatoid arthritis when I was a teenager. A lot of the time I’d end up rubbing her hands or her feet when she was in too much pain to get up and go somewhere. Sure, she could have hired a massage therapist, she saw one every week as it was, but it was sort of our time together. We’d put on cheesy old science fiction movies, she’d ask about my day and I’d test out different lotions to see which one helped the most. Those are some of my fondest memories of her.”

“That’s… very sweet.” Nicole murmured, sounding surprised. “I take it she’s passed?”

“Oh yeah, long ago. She had a surrogate birth me when she was fifty-two and her husband was sixty. A lot of people criticized them for bringing a baby into the world so late in life, but the first twenty years of my life were full of more support and love than most people could ever ask for. Not to mention they left me an insane inheritance that’s allowed me to build my company the way I have.”

She said nothing for several moments, just seeming to absorb my story. “Wow. I guess if you had to choose, I would definitely take amazing parents for a short time instead of shitty parents for the rest of her life.”

I heard something in her voice, some slight tremor of bitterness that had a whole story behind it, and I debated on asking her or not. It seemed slightly invasive, but then again, considering that my child was inside of her, maybe I could afford to ask some personal questions.

“It sounds like you might have some experience with shitty parents.”

“Is it that obvious?” She scoffed slightly, not at me seemingly but at herself. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” She paused, no doubt expecting me to gloss over the slightly uncomfortable silence. But I had no problem waiting for her to find her words, and after a couple of minutes she started talking again.

“My Mom and Dad were never mean to me per say, but they didn’t make it easy. They absolutely hated each other with a passion and were always fighting and screaming. I remembered being scared a lot and exasperated that they wouldn’t just break up. But they were staying together for me, apparently, not realizing that their staying together was what was stressing me out so terribly.

“My mother was never very supportive and my father… well he mostly tried to disappear as much as possible. He got a job as a trucker when I was in high school, so he was only home once every two weeks or so. Things were a little smoother for a while. Then, once I went away to college, they divorced, and I’ve seen him once since then.”

Huh, I could understand now why she might have wanted to run away to Vegas. A land of so many sparkling possibilities and so few parents. “You’ve graduated, right? Were you able to fix things with your mother now that your father was out of the picture?”

“No… not really.” She heaved a sigh and I could feel the tension building in her, so I squeezed the sides of her heels before moving up to rub the balls of her feet. “I tried making it on my own for a while, but eventually I had to move back home. Things went south there after some stupid crap that happened, and she seemed like she just wanted me to get out of her hair, so I left.

“…and then I met you.” She finished, looking at me with a sort of sheepish expression.

“Funny how life work out that way, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if funny is the word for it, but yeah.”

With all the talk of parents done, we fell into quiet, me rubbing more of her feet then moving onto her ankles and calves, and her making appreciative little sounds. Time passed, but the more we sat there, the more and more I found myself becoming aware of her body, sitting right there next to me on the couch.

Even without the lotion, her skin was incredibly smooth and soft. Adding the moisturizer only reminded me of how slick other parts of her could become, and how good that felt wrapped around me.

How was it possible for one woman to be so alluring? I didn’t know, and it certainly wasn’t fair. But the more my fingers worked her over, the more I felt the rest of my body react, until my lower half was fighting against the confines of my shorts while my heart was beginning to thunder in my chest.

Eventually it was too much, and I gently picked her feet up, so I could stand. She moved them out of my way quickly, then held out her hand so that I could pull her to a standing position.

That turned out to be a mistake. I pulled just a tad too hard, and she stumbled forward a tad, colliding with my chest. We both looked at each other, obviously startled by our sudden closeness, and before I knew what was happening, I was leaning down to kiss her.

I knew I shouldn’t, that -after everything that had happened- I should keep my distance until we fully figured out our arrangement. But her lips were so soft, and she felt so right against me, what else could I do?