Page 59 of Finding Jacob
I tailed off. There was no reason Icouldn’tdo that; I just wasn’t that spontaneous normally.
“I can do that!”
“We’ll go just after the funeral,” he said. “Take our bags with us and fly straight out.”
I nodded. I wasn’t looking forward to the funeral because, although not officially invited, my family would be there. God knows why, but when my mother had finally called Hannah, she’d asked for the details. Hannah had told Nathan that she felt she couldn’t withhold that information. And that reminded me of something.
“What did Nathan find out at Hannah’s house?” I asked, assuming he would know.
“We put a trace on all incoming calls,” he said, standing and holding out his hands to me.
“We?” I asked, taking his hands, and allowing him to help me stand.
“We, he,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Mmm, there will come a time when I’ll be seriously curious as to your relationship with him.” I had meant it half in jest but realised, as I’d spoken, that would be true.
“And in time, I’m sure, you’ll know what you want to know.”
“But not now?”
“But not now. I’m tired.”
I turned off the light as we headed to bed.
He held me most of the night, to the point I needed to untangle myself from his arms because I was too hot, only to find him place a hand on my hip as if he needed some contact at least. I chuckled as he slept. He seemed to find sleep easy the more pregnant I became, the more uncomfortable I found my bed. I looked forward to heading to his home for the weekend the following day, as I’d slept like a baby in his bed.
Jacob collected me on Friday evening from my office. I was tired, I knew I looked it as well. Jane had been fussing over me so much I’d snapped at her and felt like a shit all day. Of course, I’d apologised immediately and she gave me a hug, which made me feel more of a shit. I told her I was taking a week’s holiday and the fact that she agreed I needed it, showed me I’d probably been making her life a little hard of late.
What I hadn’t confessed to anyone was, as much as I’d been a workaholic and I’d loved all aspects of my business, I didn’t anymore. I loved my growing bump more. I wanted to ‘nest’ and was desperate to unpack boxes and set up furniture. Jacob wanted me to wait for a carpenter he knew to come and do it. I assumed he would be ex-military, since those were the people he seemed to know the most. Obviously, I preferred the furniture to be put up properly, but my growing excitement was making me feel impatient. And annoyingly, he’d organised for the nursery at his house to be done first.
When we arrived at his, I saw why.
Jacob walked me around and detailed everything that he’d had done. There were rugs, carpet in some rooms to cover the polished concrete. He had soft furnishings, corners had been rounded, plug sockets had been covered.
“You know we would have had months before we needed to do any of that, don’t you?” I asked, chuckling.
“I know, but I found an interior designer who ‘babied up’ homes. So, I did this as a surprise for you. I wanted you to feel more comfortable here.”
“In the hope that I’d move in with you?” I asked, smirking at him.
The idea, one he’d posed some time ago, was becoming more tempting. Especially since I’d realised the drive into London wasn’t as awful and I’d decided to work part time. I hadn’t told him that, though.
“No, in the hope that you’d see I’m taking this seriously,” he answered, pulling me to his side and kissing the top of my head.
He walked me around the downstairs, showing me rooms I hadn’t seen before. He had a gorgeous library where he’d added a desk for me.
“I thought you might like to work from here, while you’re here, of course.” I ran my hand over the large oak desk that faced floor-to-ceiling glass and looked out over acres of land.
I nodded, knowing full well I could work there.
We headed back down the vast hallway and he paused at one door. “This is my office,” he said before keying in a code on a pad and the door clicking open.
Once inside, I appreciated the security.
It was a beautiful office, light and spacious with one wall covered entirely with bookshelves. Every file was colour-coded, and labels precisely written at the exact angles and height on the file. Super organised. The wall to the side of the desk was covered in monitors. Some showed stock movements, some showed CCTV from around the house and grounds, and others were blank.
“That’s some bank of monitors,” I said.
