“Okay, Nathan. And sorry. Just trying to help, maybe I’m a little overexcited, lack of sleep,” he offers, getting up to leave.
“Maybe lay off these,” I remark, handing him back his coffee cup with a grimace, grateful to hear what I hope is real breakfast at the suite door by the time I see Shaun out.
“Well, don’t leave it too long I hope,” he mumbles, almost knocking over the breakfast trolley as he rushes off before I wheel it onside.
“Who was that?” Lucy mumbles, gripping me from behind. Half-asleep still but I can feel her nipples pressing into me as she hugs me from behind, making my own body spring to attention.
“Just Shaun,” I remark, casually shifting her own hands from my chest down to my front, making her moan with interest.
“Breakfast,” she says sleepily, almost in protest, and I have to agree, but only this once. I’m starving.
“In bed.” I negotiate, guiding her back to our room first before rolling the food trolley through behind her, gnawing at my lip as I decide between which piece of sweet crumpet I want to press against my lips first.
I’ve got all day to fill her in on all that’s happened. And promise to tell her first about her dad and how he’s just fine before anything else.
Right after I eat.
Right after we’ve both eaten, that is.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
Lucy
Moving in with Nathan was and is just like an extension of everything really.
He’s bought a new place, bigger for sure. Telling me we need much more room with the two of us now.
But I am shocked when I see it only has my name on all the paperwork he’s asked me to sign before we take the keys from the agent.
“For you,” he says. “Peace of mind or whatever you or your dad want to call it. No matter what happens, it’s yours,” he adds quietly.
As if he’s just bought me a coffee or something.
Not sure how I should react, or if I should react at all, I just smile.
Let’s just say Nathan and my dad don’t exactly kiss and hug like we do.
They don’t get along so well. But it’s still early days, I tell myself.
“Ours,” I remind him, shrugging happily. Knowing I could be happy anywhere he is house or not. As long as Nathan is within arm’s reach, which he always is nowadays I’m the luckiest girl in the world.
And I trust he knows I feel the same, I show him every chance I get. Sometimes more than once or twice a day. Despite his workload. Despite any house or anything else, he can afford.
Despite how I’ve been feeling lately.
It’s an honor really, and at first, I jumped at the chance. But after a few months now, the idea of co-writing a book with the great legendary Nathan Cartwright it’s a little overwhelming.
I mean, I’ve never even written a book. Not like the stuff he’s built his whole career on anyway. But he insists on me helping him every day with his manuscript. Adding my own chapters in between his and having them sent off to the publisher.
No complaints either, so far as I can tell. But even though it’s all new to me I can’t help writing my own ideas down.
Different ideas. And nothing to do with our book either.
It feels like something inside me, something new is developing and for some strange abstract reason, I find myself working on my own idea for children’s books in my spare time.
It’s not long before Nathan notices something is different, and I get upset every time he mentions how pleased he is with my thickening curves.
“I’ve got no problem with you, Lucy,” he coos, running his hands over me, encouraging me with his touch as well as his eyes every time he sees me.
Never minding the fact I’ve gained so many pounds and three sizes in as many months.
Nathan got me my own bank cards and I can buy whatever I want when I want, but even I’m noticing the changes to the point it’s not about buying new clothes anymore.
I’m seriously worried he’ll go off me if I get much bigger.
Working on our notes after breakfast I try to complain about gaining weight when he reprimands me for not eating more like he’s not even hearing me.
“I love you just the way you are, and however we both change Lucy,” he grins, kissing the melted butter from my lips after he feeds me some more toast.
I know he means it once we go back to bed for an hour or two, proving his desire.
But there’s something not quite right. This feeling I’ve had for a while now.
It’s almost scary but somehow it just feels so right at the same time.
A couple more days pass and I forget about it, feeling better inside as well as how my new clothes fit.