“You make the rules, and I’ll follow them. So long as you keep me updated on how you’re feeling. If you need days off, tell me. You have sick days for a reason. Take them,” Preston said.
“Okay,” I said.
His hand felt so good encompassing mine. My entire body was screaming out for him. I was wondering if I needed to back down. If I needed to throw these insane rules out the window and run with my heart instead of my mind on this. Blood was rushing through my ears. I could feel my legs growing weak even though I wasn’t standing on them. Our food was growing cold as we started into each other’s eyes, and I thought about falling forward into him. Into his lips and his arms and the strength of his chest.
But I knew it was better this way. Even though it killed me to pull my hand away from him, I knew it was better this way. My heart would always get me into trouble. That was just a fact. I had my mother’s heart. A heart I wore on my sleeve, willing to give it to the first person who touched it. It had broken her more times than I wanted to admit over the course of growing up with her, and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t put these children through the rollercoaster I rode with my mother.
I would rather have a good, platonic relationship with their father than a rocky, heartbreaking romantic one with him.
“Thank you for dinner,” I said as I reached for my plate.
“Anything you need, all you have to do is ask,” Preston said.
And I could tell by the look in his eyes that he meant it.
Eighteen
Delilah
The weeks rolled on and Preston was sweeter than ever. Every Saturday night he would come over with food, and he would sit with me and talk. I learned more about him than I could have ever imagined, and I witnessed firsthand how compassionate he was. One Saturday, I had gotten so sick I couldn't eat the food he brought. And even though I tried to shoo him away from the bathroom, he fought his way in and held my hair back. He put a cool washcloth on the back of my neck and blew cool air down my shirt trying to get my heaving body to calm down. He rubbed my back and kept telling me everything was going to be okay, and he stayed until I fell asleep that night.
He did sweet little things in passing, but never in the office. He respected my rules about showing any sort of affection while we were being professional. But every once in a while, I would come home to a note taped on my door. Or a gift in my mailbox. Or something being delivered to my apartment. Sometimes it was a cute present for the babies and other times it was a relaxing present for me. One week, I even received a package with three books inside that have just been released to the public.
Preston had signed me up for a book club and put me down for three new books every month.
Now, I was almost three months along. Preston and I would stagger our leaving from the office so he could attend the doctor's appointments we scheduled over lunch. The babies were growing stronger everyday, but it would still be a while before we would know their genders. Their heartbeats were strong and they were already using my bladder as a punching bag. And every single time Preston saw those ultrasounds, his eyes lit up.
But I was still focused on the financial aspect of things. I was only a couple of weeks away from needing maternity clothes that would help me cover up my baby bump, and I had no idea how I was going to pay for them.
It wasn't that I wanted to hide the children. But I did want to hold off the questions from my colleagues as long as I could. The moment people knew I was pregnant, the rumors would begin to fly. People would want to know the father’s name and how far along I was. They would want to know how we met, whether or not we were living together, and whether or not he was a decent man. Everyone would act like they were my best friend because I would become the hottest drama of Kiefer And Associates.
And I wasn't ready to take on that role yet.
There were times where I could see worry in Preston's eyes. I still went with him to all the meetings and took the minutes so I could email them to him. But I knew there were times where I looked tired. I knew there were times where he knew I wasn't showering, and I could see the questions in his eyes. I would try to shoot hi
m looks to get him to pay attention, but sometimes they didn't work. I couldn't help the fact that I was so exhausted, but him staring at me was only going to make things worse.
However, there was a small part of me that felt good to have him so concerned about me. It meant he cared, and I allowed myself to cherish that fact when I was alone.
But one day, a knock came at my door. It was odd for me to have visitors to my office, especially since there wasn't a place to sit. So I knew whoever it was, they had something that was important for me.
When I opened the door, however, the last person I expected to see was Preston.
“Could we talk in my office?” he asked.
“Did I miss a meeting?” I asked.
“Not at all, but I do need to speak with you about something…urgent.”
His eyes dropped to my stomach and I felt my face pale. Why did he want to talk about the children? What was so important? We had an agreement to not do this kind of thing here.
Holy hell, had someone found out about us?
I nodded and followed him into his office. I was hot on his heels as we made our way into the expansive room. He shut the door and locked it, then ushered me over to the couch in the corner. I could feel my hands sweating with nerves and I sat down, my back straight and my body braced for whatever was coming.
“Relax,” Preston said. “Nothing’s wrong. But I do need an answer from you on something before the end of the day today.”
“No one’s found out about us?” I asked.