by Donna Alward
She was no Realtor but she knew that location was everything. And that he had paid a lot of money for this particular location. She’d looked up his address on the internet, looked at a street view. He was close to the Met, to Central Park, Broadway...
It was nearly overwhelming.
“What do you think?”
She turned to face him and found his face expectant. She glanced around at the impeccably decorated living room. To be honest, it was beautiful but it was missing something. It seriously felt like one of his listings, staged for a potential buyer, made to look wonderful without revealing the personality of the person who lived within.
There wasn’t much of Jeremy here. But clearly he was proud of it, so she smiled. “It’s gorgeous.”
His answering grin made her glad she’d answered as she did. “Come on, let me show you the rest.”
The rest included a powder room, plus two more full bathrooms—one main bathroom between two bedrooms and then a luxurious en suite bathroom off the master. The guest rooms were impeccable, of course, and the master bedroom housed a king-size bed with a black leather headboard and a thick silver duvet. The top was turned down to reveal the ends of the sheets beneath, and they were black silk. Chrome-and-black bedside tables held a docking station for electronics and a lamp, and he pulled the drapes aside to reveal another breathtaking view.
He looked at her and smiled again. Were they going to smile their way through the next week? “Whichever bedroom you’d like as yours is fine. The other bathroom is yours, as well.”
At least he didn’t assume they’d be sharing a room. Not that she’d expected that, but she’d gotten a little nervous on the plane after his bikini comment. As much as the idea of him still finding her attractive was exciting, she needed space and time to figure out if they truly could move forward as a couple. It felt like they kept taking steps that way, and then retreated into the safety of a relationship of utility and co-parenting.
Neither bedroom was overly welcoming. Beautiful, yes, but not...warm. That was it. The grayscale was trendy and definitely classy and elegant, but it was missing warmth.
“The one across the hall will be fine.” She knew it had a queen-size bed and the bedding looked thicker and softer there. Like something she could curl up in.
“Great.” He clapped his hands together. “I’ll put your bag in your room so you can unpack. And then maybe we can go for a walk in the park.”
A walk in the park was the perfect way to spend the afternoon. The air was crisp without being frigid, the sky a clear blue, and Jeremy reached down and held her hand as they wandered along. When she said she wanted a hot dog from a street vendor, he obliged, and they sat on a cold bench with cold noses, biting into hot dogs with sweet ketchup and sharp mustard. They wound their way around the paths and he showed her The Plaza, and she told him about one of her favorite children’s book characters, Eloise. They had coffee in a little shop to warm their toes and fingers, and then when she looked longingly at the horse-drawn carriages, he obliged and they went on a carriage ride, which he said was eye-rollingly touristy but didn’t complain when she got cold and leaned against him, prompting him to put his arm around her and cuddle her close.
The afternoon darkened and it was time to go home. It had been a marvelous first introduction to the Big Apple, and when Jeremy suggested she take a nap before dinner, she didn’t put up any fight. She’d been up since five and the fresh air and walking had done its work.
After an hour he woke her and said that dinner was ready. He didn’t let her in the kitchen, but seated her at the dining table, where he’d put two place settings at corners to each other, and lit a couple of candles. “Did you have a good nap?”
“The best. I woke up and forgot where I was.”
He chuckled. “It’s the fresh air. Plus you were up super early this morning.”
“And I nap very easily these days,” she admitted. “This growing-another-human thing takes some energy.”
He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a plate. “Which is why you need this. You’ve only had a hot dog and a latte since this morning.”
The meal was simple. Chicken, asparagus and pasta were tossed in a white sauce, with a green salad on the side. But it was delicious and Tori ate up every bite on her plate.
“You’re a decent cook. Where did you learn?”
“I can’t take the credit. I eat out a lot and I have a housekeeper come in once a week. She also brings in a variety of meals and puts them in the fridge with instructions for reheating. I literally just had to put this in the oven, and voilà.”
“Oh. Well, my compliments to the chef, whoever she may be.” Jeremy was not the domestic type. It was more and more obvious as the day wore on. His apartment...condo...whatever barely looked lived in. There certainly weren’t bits that jumped out as being “Jeremy.” But he’d fed her and it had been scrumptious, so she patted her belly and said, “There. The baby’s happy.”
“Is he?” Jeremy’s gaze met hers and held. “Is he happy?”
“Maybe it’s a she.”
“Of course. How about...are they happy?”
“I think so. At least it seems as if they’re doing a jig in there.”
His gaze deepened, and she thought she caught a glimpse of vulnerability. “May I feel?”
It was sweet of him to ask, lovely of him to want to. “Of course,” she replied. She pushed her chair out a little, and so did he, and then slid to the edge of his seat so they bumped knees. He put his hand on her belly, his palm wide and warm. But the ripple of feeling was in a different spot, so she put her hand on his wrist and guided him to the left a little. Whether it was arms or legs or somersaults, it didn’t take long and the movement thudded against his hand, little taps and rolls.
“Wow,” he breathed, staring at his hand, then up at her. “I can’t get over that. How does it feel, you know, on the inside?”
She knew he meant the actual sensation rather than her response, but all she could say was, “Wonderful.”
He didn’t move his hand. But he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. Not kissing, just...connecting. Tears stung her eyes. Maybe this was what had drawn her to him in the first place. Connection. She’d had friends, coworkers. Her mom. But not this kind of connection with another human. Not for a very long time, because she’d always backed away, not trusting that she wouldn’t be hurt or duped in the end, as she had been before.
And she’d never had a connection of this depth, because this time they shared a child. His DNA and hers had come together to create a whole other person. It was a huge and sobering thought.
“Jeremy,” she whispered. Her throat swelled with unshed tears.
He leaned back and took his hand from her belly and rested it on her cheek. “I don’t understand,” he whispered back. “You already love this baby so much, and it isn’t even born yet. And I don’t—” His voice broke off, and he cleared his throat. “Damn, I’m not a little kid. I don’t know why this gets to me. I just don’t ever remember feeling this much warmth in my home.”
Her heart broke a little. “Were there never any fun times? Laughter?”
He shrugged. “I suppose there must have been, but I don’t really remember them much. Mom and Dad divorced before I really formed any solid memories. When we were little Mom and Bruce took us to Disney once. And we went to summer camps and that was fun. But I can’t remember a single other family vacation that we took together. Mom and Bruce would take off for a weekend in the city, see a show, dinner, hotel. They definitely traveled while we were in school. But never with us.”
It was impossible to fathom. “But who cared for you?”
His hand slipped away. “We had staff.”
“Shut up! Are you serious?”
She looked so disgusted a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “It wasn�
��t so bad. Some of the nannies were okay, and I really got along with the gardener who came twice a week.”
He had to have been so lonely...and felt so unloved. Her heart ached for the kind of boy he must have been. “That’s horrible. And I’m amazed you turned out to be a decent human being, which I know you are, because you’ve been nothing but kind and understanding throughout this whole thing.”
“If I am, it’s only because of Merrick. I met my best friends there. Teachers who, for the most part, cared enough to turn us from spoiled, scared brats into actual humans. Not that it always worked, mind you.” He chuckled softly. “As a group we were a rich, entitled bunch.”
“Materially, maybe.”
“I can’t complain, Tori. I have had advantages that most people only dream of.”
She was glad he realized it, but deep down she knew all the money in the world couldn’t buy real affection and love. She thought of all the summers she’d gone camping with her parents to any of the provincial parks. They’d always allowed her to take a friend. There’d been swimming and playgrounds and campfires with roasted marshmallows that scalded the roof of her mouth. Christmases watching movies and drinking hot chocolate. They hadn’t had a lot of money but they’d gone on a walk every Thanksgiving Day since she was a little girl, enjoying the fall weather and colors. There had been story time at night before bed, and when she was sick, her dad carrying her to her room and tucking her into bed. There hadn’t always been a lot of money, but she wouldn’t trade a single moment of it.
Jeremy didn’t know anything about any of those things. Not through any fault of his own, but she wondered how he was going to handle a different kind of parenthood.
It worried her, but she wasn’t about to deny him the opportunity to try.
She squeezed his fingers in hers. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll help you. I had a great dad.” Grief at his loss welled up, but gratitude, too, that he’d been a wonderful father. “I’ll share him with you, tell you all about him and the stuff he used to do with me. You don’t have to wait for the baby to be born to be a good father, Jeremy. You’re doing it already.”
His gaze snapped up to hers. “How come you are so great? Why aren’t you scared? Freaking out about what’s to come?”
“You think I’m not scared? Of course I am. But deep down I believe everything is going to be okay. It has to be.”
Faith. It seemed she had some after all.
He squeezed her fingers back. “Okay. I’m going to trust you. At least for now.” Clearing his throat, he gave her fingers a final squeeze and then sat up straight. “What do you say we clean up these dishes and then watch a movie or something?”
“That sounds amazing.”
The sky was dark but lit by the millions of city lights. After they loaded the dishwasher, Jeremy put down the blinds over the windows while Tori sank into the couch. It wasn’t just for looks; the cushions were super comfortable and Jeremy came back with a soft throw blanket from a closet somewhere. “Okay, so regular movie or Christmas movie?”
She was in Manhattan in December. “Christmas, and Miracle on 34th Street.”
He laughed. “When in Rome... So, original or remake?” He handed her the blanket and reached for his phone. She shook her head. He could control everything from that thing.
“I know I should say the original...but the remake. Because Richard Attenborough is Santa Claus.”
“Yes, but Natalie Wood...”
“I know. So my pick tonight, yours tomorrow?”
“Sounds fair.”
He scrolled through a streaming app until he found the movie, and then it was on, complete with Thanksgiving Day parade, a drunk parade Santa and Mara Wilson looking adorable. Halfway through he disappeared to make her a cup of tea—apparently said housekeeper had stocked up on a few things before their arrival—and after sipping at the comforting brew, Tori found herself blinking slowly.
She shouldn’t be tired. She’d had a wonderful nap before dinner.
Jeremy shifted on the sofa. “Here. Lean against me. You’ll be more comfortable and have some support for your neck.”
He lifted his arm and she curled in against his side, the soft blanket covering her from waist to toes. He was so warm and stable, and her belly rested against his hip as if it were perfectly suited for the angle. And oh, he smelled good. Like clean clothes and the expensive cologne he always wore. She closed her eyes and inhaled.
On the screen, Dylan McDermott was proposing to Elizabeth Perkins, a huge ring in a red box. Tori opened her eyes and sighed.
“What?”
“I never understand why she’s so mean to Bryan in this moment.”
“Well, she’s afraid.”
“I know that. But it makes her stupid.”
Jeremy chuckled, low in his chest. “Then there’s the fact that there’s still a lot of movie to get through and the happy ending. Why would people keep watching if she said yes?”
She looked up at him. “To see if Kris Kringle is real, of course.”
He shook his head. “Uh-uh. You know as well as I do that the love story is the main attraction here. And the question of whether or not Susan gets her house and a dad and a baby brother for Christmas.”
“I hate it when you’re right,” she mumbled, but curled up against his shoulder again, where it was warm and inviting.
CHAPTER NINE
JEREMY WATCHED THE end credits roll and leaned his head back against the sofa. He could shut off the TV right now but he didn’t want to disturb Tori, who had finally drifted off just before the courtroom verdict in the movie. She’d missed the happy ending, the perfect house and family and a new brother on the way. Emotion clogged his throat for a moment as he turned his head an inch and looked down at her, lashes against her cheeks, warm belly pressed against his hip.
She would be so easy to love, if he were capable of it.
As it was, he definitely had feelings for her. She was the purest person he’d ever known. Always seemed to find a bright side, a positive angle. Cared about people.
Cared about him.
At least she made him believe she did. And she was snuggled up to him right now, trusting.
He felt pretty damned unworthy of that.
The credits ended and the app went to a home screen with “suggested for you” thumbnails of other holiday movies. It wasn’t late, but it was late enough, and clearly she was exhausted. She’d been working long hours for days, and carrying the baby, too.
As carefully as he could, he shifted his hips so that her head was cradled in his elbow, then turned so that he was off the sofa, leaning over her. With as much gentleness as he could muster, he slipped an arm beneath her legs and the other beneath her shoulders, keeping her head snug against him. He lifted her in his arms and adjusted her weight as her lashes fluttered.
“Jeremy?”
“Shh... You fell asleep. I’m taking you to bed.”
He got halfway down the hall before she actually lifted her head. “You really are carrying me. You’re going to give yourself a hernia.”
He couldn’t stop the burst of laughter that started in his chest. Lord, but she made him laugh sometimes at the most unexpected moments.
“I’m pretty sure I can handle it,” he replied.
He nudged open the door to her room and laid her down on the bed, but she was awake now and scooted up so that she was sitting. “That was very sweet of you.”
“I was hoping I wouldn’t wake you. You looked so peaceful.”
“I was comfortable.” She smiled, the edges of it soft from sleep. “You’re kind of warm and cozy.”
Jeremy went to the bed and sat on the edge. “Honestly? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.”
“Well, you are. And I need to be awake anyway, because I need to pee and brush my teeth.” She put her hand
on his forearm. “It was a really nice night. A nice day, when all is said and done. Thank you.”
He reached over to pat her hand and ended up taking her fingers in his instead, twining them together, linking them in a way that frightened him just a bit. Still, this was what he’d suggested, wasn’t it? Acknowledgment of their attraction for each other? Desire? Affection? His thumb rubbed over the top of her hand, and he met her gaze, saying nothing. The air between them grew heavy with words unspoken, possibilities unrealized.
“You’re going to kiss me, aren’t you?” she murmured, but instead of looking away, as she had a tendency to do, she held his gaze.
“Only if you want me to.”
She said nothing for a few seconds that felt like an eternity, and he waited, trying to be patient. Wanting to leave this decision in her hands.
“You want me to say it.” She bit down on her lip, another thing he realized she did when she was nervous.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice rough. “I do.”
Another long moment, and then she said it, her voice barely above a whisper. “Kiss me, Jeremy. Please.”
She didn’t have to ask twice, or even add the sweet-sounding “please” to the end. “Kiss me” was enough. He squeezed her fingers tighter and leaned forward. “No mistletoe in here,” he murmured, only an inch away from her lips.
“We don’t need it,” she answered, and he closed the remaining distance between them.
Nothing in the world could be as soft as her lips. They opened beneath his, sweet and willing, and an expansive feeling rushed through him as he drank her in. He inched closer, close enough that if he moved his arm at all it would be around her and pulling her close, but tonight she was in charge. She set the pace. He’d kissed her twice already. Tonight he wanted—needed—to know that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
As the kiss deepened, she leaned forward, moving to get closer to him, and before they lost their balance he put out his left hand and braced it on the bed. Tori curled her hand up around his neck and exerted a little pressure, pulling him closer to her, then shifting so that she was slowly inching downward with him leaning over her from above. Desire surged; last summer hadn’t been a fluke, and she still had the power to make him weak and strong at the same time. Their chemistry couldn’t be ignored as she made a little sound in the back of her throat. He slid his mouth off hers and pressed his lips to the sensitive spot on her neck where her pulse drummed.