She closed her eyes. This place was currently so businesslike and masculine. What would it be like when her touch had transformed it? Could she really hope to turn this office into a place for a baby?

Could she hope to turn Elliot Livingston into a father?

It seemed like a lot to hope for. But Ivy found she was hoping just the same.

CHAPTER 18

IVY

FOUR MONTHS LATER

“Look, it’s all right that you’re not feeling up to going in today,” Elliot said. “You shouldn’t feel like you have to.”

“But the painters are coming to do the bathrooms,” Ivy protested. She was sitting up on the couch, propped up by pillows with a warm fleece blanket spread across her lap, and she knew that she wasn’t making a very compelling argument for the idea that she was fine to go into work. She ought to be getting up and getting dressed if she wanted Elliot to believe that. But she was so comfortable here on the couch, and she really didn’t want to get up, even though she was protesting ardently that she could do it. She wanted to stay where she was and take the day off, sleeping off the fatigue and dizziness she’d been feeling.

“We knew this would happen,” Elliot said. “We knew it would get harder as you got farther into your pregnancy. You’re nearly eight months along now.”

“That’s no excuse,” Ivy said, frowning. “I don’t want to be housebound just because I’m pregnant. The office is almost finished. I want to be there to put the final touches on.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to make it to the grand opening,” Elliot said. “And that’s what matters most. You can call in and speak to the contractors about everything else that needs to be done, and it’ll get figured out. I mean, you don’t really have to be there to supervise them while they paint. They’ll do a fine job without having your eyes on them all the time.”

Ivy sighed. “I know they will,” she said. “I just don’t feel right about not being involved. It’s never been like this for me before. Whenever I’ve taken a project on, I’ve been there for every step of it.”

“Things are bound to be different now,” Elliot said gently. “We knew that was going to happen, right? You knew things were going to change.”

“I know,” she agreed. “I don’t know why I’m letting myself get so emotional about it, really. It’s just a lot to cope with. I mean, once the baby comes everything is really going to be different. I don’t know if I’ll be able to work at all anymore after that.”

“If you want to work, we’ll make that happen,” Elliot said. “We can afford whatever kind of childcare you want. We can hire a full-time nanny. We can get a live-in nanny if it’s going to make you feel better. You can go back to work as soon as you’ve recovered physically from giving birth.”

“I can’t do that,” Ivy said. “That’s not the kind of parent I want to be. I want to stay at home with my baby as much as I possibly can. I know I’ll still have to work?—”

“You don’t, actually,” Elliot said. “This is what I’m trying to tell you, Ivy. You have choices. You can do whatever you want, and I’ll support it. If you want to stop working and stay at home with our baby full-time, I’ve got you. If you want to go back to work full time, we’ll take care of that too. Whatever works for you will be fine.”

“I couldn’t do either one,” Ivy admitted. “I couldn’t give up my work. I’ve put too much of myself into it, and I’m passionate about what I do. But I definitely don’t want to be the kind of parent who’s never around for their child, who’s always at work while the kid gets raised by a nanny. That sounds horrible. I’m going to have to find a way to balance both parts of my life.” She sighed. “The trouble is, I’ve never done anything halfway. I’ve gotten to where I am in life by throwing myself all the way in on everything I do, and it’s hard to imagine splitting my focus between two things, especially when they’re both so important to me. It’s hard for me to take the day off today, and all I’d be doing would be supervising painters. I know you can do that, but it feels wrong to be hanging around at home.”

“You’re doing the right thing,” Elliot assured her. “You’re taking care of our baby. It’s like you just said. That’s just as important as your career. More important, maybe. And your career won’t suffer because you took one day off. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Just promise you’ll video call me if anything happens,” Ivy said.

“I will. But nothing is going to happen.” He smiled at her. “You trust me, right?”

“You know I do.” It was strange, but Ivy would have said that Elliot was the person she trusted most in the world. That wasn’t something she had expected when she’d moved in here all those months ago. She had thought it would stay uncomfortable between them for a long time — maybe for the whole time.

But it hadn’t. They’d fallen into a routine very quickly, and now Ivy felt as if she had been here for much longer than she really had. She’d gotten used to having drinks together each morning — it was always a coffee for him and an herbal tea for her. She missed her morning coffees, but that was one of many things she had given up for the pregnancy, for the sake of the baby.

They’d go off to work — together most days, although lately there had been more and more days when she hadn’t felt capable of going out and he had encouraged her to stay home. On those days, she watched daytime TV on his massive set, lounging on his huge plush couch and thinking about how lucky she was to have fallen into such a luxe situation. She had called her sister and given her multiple virtual tours of the place, though Janelle never seemed to get enough of it. “Show me the closets,” she’d begged on the last call. “Show me the master bedroom.”

Ivy had laughed. “I’m not going to go into Elliot’s closet. That would be crossing a line.”

But actually, she wasn’t sure that it would be. Elliot had been so open and inviting with her, welcoming her into every aspect of his life and every corner of his home. Ivy had a feeling that if she had asked to see his closet, he would have laughed and pointed her in the right direction.

It definitely wasn’t what she had expected when she had first realized she’d slept with a billionaire playboy. The more time she spent with him, the more she came to feel as though he was someone she could have actually dated if they had met in a different way. The phrase boyfriend material had come to mind more than once, and every time, she winced. She shouldn’t be letting herself feel like this about him. She knew better than to do that, and she didn’t seem to be able to control herself. This was precarious.

Evenings were usually spent talking about their days, whether they had spent them together or not, and laughing about the things they had each encountered. Sometimes Elliot would open up a bottle of sparkling juice or cider, which he had taken to keeping on hand so that they could have the experience of sharing a glass of wine at the end of a hard day’s work. Sometimes they’d watch a movie together. Sometimes they would make dinner together. But there was always time spent together, at the close of each day, and it always felt sweet and intimate. It was getting hard to remember that this wasn’t a relationship.

Elliot was watching her. “If you want,” he said, “I could take the day off.”

“You can’t take the day off,” she said. “They need you.”