“Is that right?” I ask again, rubbing my hand across her belly desperate to feel a kick again.
“She likes the sound of your voice,” Rosie whispers.
I shoot her a smile and crawl up her body. “And you?” I ask against her lips. “Do you like my voice?”
“I can’t get you to shut up most of the time.”
“How dare you?” I tease.
She giggles underneath me, trying to push me off her as I bury my head in her neck and gently suck on her smooth skin, my hand still resting over her belly. She squirms underneath me, laughing until I take her lips in mine.
“Are you happy?” I ask between kisses.
“I’m happy.” She nods, sending me the sweet smile that makes my knees buckle.
Her hand explores my chest, traveling lower. “So”—she reaches the waistband of my boxers—“Very”—she kisses me—“Happy.” Her hand grasps me, and I can’t help but groan against her lips.
Later, Rosie’s rummaging through boxes in the kitchen when I finally make it out of the shower.
“What is even in these?” she asks without looking up at me.
“No idea,” I say. “It’s just stuff I got my assistant to pack up from my LA house. I have some in the hotel still, but most of it is at yours.”
“All your stuff?” Rosie gapes at me.
I shrug. “Yeah, I can’t imagine heading back over there for a while so it would just be gathering dust.”
“I’ll have to get my stuff over here too,” she says around her mug.
I try to quell the excitement rising in my chest. “Shall we go right now?”
“Let me finish my tea first,” she laughs.
I tilt her mug and examine how much she has left, but she tugs it back with an eye roll.
“I’m only playing, pretty girl. We can take this as slow or as fast as you want. I know I sprung this on you when you already have so much going on, so we’ll go at your pace from here on out. If you want to go back to the flat right now, I’ll drive you myself. If you want to move everything over, I’ve already got movers waiting outside.”
She sighs exasperatedly as I send her a cheeky grin and hold my hands up. “Playing still.”
“I know this is fast, but that’s how we do things apparently.” She gestures to her stomach.
“I just know what I want.”
“I think I want to go back to the flat today.” She bites her lip. “But can I sleep here tonight?”
Don’t smile too much Jackson, you’ll scare her away. “Sure, we can do that.”
The drive only takes forty minutes with London traffic. When we pull up outside the flat I see Rosie glancing up and down the street and it breaks my heart.
She should never have been put in this position in the first place. I’ve never really considered how famous I am, and unless I’m out with friends who are also in the public eye or I’m on a press tour, I’ve never really felt the harsh realities of it. When I’m with Rosie or my family, I’m just a normal guy. I think we probably would have released a statement after Smudge’s birth, something chill and quiet, but we’ve lost that now. Lost that privacy. I don’t think forone second that our relationship and the pregnancy would have gotten out if it wasn’t for Cleo fanning the flames.
I didn’t see it coming, but maybe I should have. Maybe I should have considered the ramifications of our situation, but there’s nothing for it now but damage control.
I bite down on the anger at the injustice of it all before rounding the car to Rosie’s side. Helping her out of the car, she clutches my hand and doesn’t let go until we’re approaching her front door. Her steps fumble and pull us both to a stop.
There’s a letter taped to the door. I rip it down before she can, scanning the words on the front.
The paper crinkles in my hand before I can stop myself.
