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The concierge uncovers the platters and arranges everything out on the balcony. “We have fruit, eggs, waffles, yogurt, granola—you name it, it’s here.” He chuckles warmly and pushes through the sheer curtains in the doorway. “Call the front desk after you eat, and we’ll move you to the penthouse.”
My eyes snap to his in confusion. “The penthouse? Why?” I gesture toward the ocean, unable to form more of an argument.
“Oh, don’t worry about that!” He beams and claps his hands. “The view upstairs is far more breathtaking. You won’t be disappointed, I guarantee it. Housekeeping is stocking the kitchen as we speak.”
“But I’m already in a suite.”
I didn’t even make it to my room yesterday before Jackson insisted on taking me to the hospital, and when we returned, I found myself in a spa-level suite, no doubt Jackson’s doing.
“Mr. O’Reilly wants you to have access to the private elevator. He’s worried about a recurrence of the previous day.”
I grimace, thinking about the viral incident. “Okay,” I reluctantly agree.
I’m a whirlwind of emotions—grateful for Jackson’s thoughtfulness but wary of accepting his help. If I give him an inch, he’ll take a country mile.
I face the man lingering in the entranceway, his massive stature dominating the space. He’s the size of a football player, a linebacker. With burly arms crossed over his chest, he keeps a vigilant eye on Sam. He’s dressed all in black, and glimpses of tattoos peek out from his collar and along his coiled forearms where his shirt is rolled. His blond hair is shaved on the sides and styled longer on top.
“And who are you?” I ask.
Midnight-blue eyes meet mine. “Ricky, ma’am. Mr. O’Reilly hired me as your bodyguard.” His voice is deep, with a hint of Southern twang.
“My what?” I sputter. “I don’t need a bodyguard. I’m only going to the spa.”
I can’t comprehend someone following me around all day. That sounds ridiculous and anxiety-inducing. I’ll feel obliged to socialize, and it’ll exhaust me.
Not to mention ruin the solitude I was hoping for.
He gives me a curt nod. “It’s simply precaution, ma’am. I promise to stay out of your way.”
“Now, don’t worry about a thing,” Sam gestures to the spread of food, his upbeat demeanor contagious. “Eat.”
Both men exit the suite, and I wonder if Ricky is standing outside my door. I make a mental note to text Jackson and tell him I won’t need a bodyguard. He’s being overprotective.
The aroma of freshly brewed dark roast and warm pastries wafts through the air, tempting my senses and making my stomach growl. I sit and go straight for the carafe of coffee. The first orgasmic sip of creamy heaven hits my soul, and I groan out loud.
In the center of all this delicious overabundance is a beautiful arrangement of pale-pink roses. Nestled within the bouquet is an envelope. I know who it’s from and know I shouldn’t open it, but I’m a glutton for punishment.
I thinkabout you every hour of every day. I’d do anything to get you back. You’re my best friend. I miss your smile, your laughter, your love, everything.
I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to forgive me.
Please let me spoil you. You deserve it.
I love you always.
Yup, I should not have read that.
My head and heart battle, and a dull ache settles in the pit of my stomach. Jackson’s words evoke painful memories and emotions I’m too vulnerable to process.
I don’t doubt he regrets everything, but I can’t ignore the past. I can’t ignore his drinking, his jealousy, or his temper. They say time heals, but some things, you never forget, and his alcohol-fueled rages live rent-free in my head.
Even worse are the nights he never came home.
Yesterday at the hospital was nothing like old times. After I agreed to the ultrasound, he wasn’t pushy or demanding. He wasn’t angry or irritated with me. He accepted my predicament without lashing out, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t adore his excitement over the baby.
I’m pregnant and alone, and I’m not ashamed to admit I’m lonely and scared. I’m desperate to share this happiness with someone, and when he gazed at the baby with stars in his eyes, my heart nearly gave in right then and there.
He sat beside me, holding my hand, and I wanted him. Fiercely.