“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, once we’re situated inside and the limo pulls out.
“I feel like a princess,” I admit, my grin almost hurting my face, it’s so wide.
“Nah, baby, you’re my queen.” Easton takes my face in his hands and kisses me on my lips, his tongue thrusting into my mouth and swirling with my own. My blood warms at his touch and I have to undo my jacket so I’m not so hot.
“I know you’re hungry for me, but not here, Dash,” he jokes. “Wait until we’re alone.”
“Shut up!” I smack his arm.
“Damn, woman. I never realized how violent you are.” He chuckles, playfully rubbing his arm.
We arrive in front of a hotel I’ve seen plenty of times but have never been inside, and Easton helps me out. Once again, cameras are flashing, but we ignore them, living in our own little bubble. I briefly wonder how they knew we were coming here. They must’ve followed us. We enter the elevator and Easton presses the button to go to the top floor. The hotel must have a restaurant up there. We’re greeted as soon as we step out and are brought back to a private dining room that’s filled with balloons and roses like our house is. There’s a table for two situated by the window that has the most beautiful view of the city skyline.
Like the gentleman he is, Easton pulls my chair out for me and I sit, unzipping my jacket and shrugging it off. He takes it from me and hangs it over the back of my chair.
The waiter comes over and asks what we would like to drink. Since I’m pregnant, I can’t have alcohol, so I stick with water and Easton does the same.
“They have a set menu for Valentine’s Day,” Easton explains, “but I spoke to them and they’re switching out a few of the items since you can’t have them while you’re pregnant.”
My heart swells in my chest. He’s been on tour for months, handles a million things on a daily basis regarding his career, and yet he still manages to always put Kendall and me first—i.e. taking us away to Big Bear and planning all of this—and on top of it all, he makes sure to double-check the menu. I am seriously one blessed woman.
Our drinks are brought out and a few minutes later, the first course. While we eat, we talk—about everything, nothing… the baby, Kendall, the house, his plans to get back in the studio to record. It feels good to just talk, without Kendall, without the craziness of the world. Just the two of us.
Each course is more delicious than the last, and when dessert is brought out, I’m not sure if there’s any room in my belly for it, but when I see how good it looks, I force myself to have some.
“Are we staying here as well?” I ask Easton after he pays the bill.
“Yeah, I booked us a room.”
Hand in hand, we walk back to the elevator. Easton holds a card to some scanner and a button labeled PH lights up. He’s booked the penthouse for us.
Instead of the elevator going down, it goes up. Hmm… I thought we were already on the top floor. Guess not. The doors open a second later, and we step off. There are only a couple doors on this floor. We walk to the first one and Easton scans the card to let us in.
When we walk in, I take in our surroundings. It’s less like a hotel room and more like a luxurious apartment. My old apartment could literally fit inside the foyer of this place. I take a calming breath, unsure if I’ll get used to the extravagance that comes with Easton. I think one of the reasons why I don’t mind it is because he doesn’t flaunt or make a show of it. He uses it when necessary, but he isn’t over-the-top.
We walk farther into the suite and I find fresh rose petals and lit candles scattered all over the place. Upon further inspection, I notice the candles are electric. Easton guides me through the main area. I assume he’s going to take us straight to the bedroom—and I wouldn’t be opposed—but instead, we end up outside on the terrace. It’s cold outside, but the heaters are on, making the area toasty warm.
I step up to the railing and look out at the city. It’s beautiful at night, and from up here, peaceful. We’re too high up to hear the hustle and bustle down below.
Easton steps up from behind and envelops me in his arms, his hands landing on my belly. The second his hands touch my flesh, the most amazing thing happens: the baby kicks. Like a real, strong kick.
Easton gasps. “Did you feel that?”