Page 99 of Expecting an Argument
When the photographer’s camera clicked on our wedding day, I felt like I had finally won that last football game or crossed the graduation stage with a gold medal. It was the portrait of a perfect ending, I had thought, but the conversation with Tyson scratched at the back of my mind.
Maybe the portrait hadn’t been an ending after all.
I ruminated on the thought as the party wrapped up and the manor slowly quieted. After we kissed the twins goodnight, Olivia sat on the edge of our bed and stared at her slippered feet for far too long.
I sat down next to her just as I heard her first sniffle.
“They’re getting too big, aren’t they?” I said.
She looked up with me with glassy eyes. “Did you know they aren’t infants anymore? We havetoddlersnow.”
I folded my arms and chewed on the inside of my cheek for a moment. “Feels like we’re at an ending, doesn’t it?”
Olivia took in a ragged breath and nodded.
I looked out the open door into the hallway. Our new bedroom suite was mere steps away. The only lock on the door was a flimsy promise to the TV producer that Olivia wouldn’t see the room until they could film the “big reveal.”
But what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
I stood up and took Olivia’s hands. “What do you say we break in a new bed?”
That got her to smile. She followed my lead as I guided her into the hallway.
“But Beau,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “we promised—”
I flashed her a wicked smile as I grabbed the doorknob. “My manor, my rules.”
Olivia peeked around me as I pushed open the bedroom door. She gasped and gently brushed past me to explore the room. I leaned on the doorframe, admiring her as she ran her fingertips down the mahogany bedpost of the custom bed. She moved on to fluff a decorative pillow made with the exact fabric she had put in her “inspiration” file and then smiled when she glanced at the floor beneath the bed.
“The damage from the ax is gone!” she remarked.
When Ashley had asked me on camera what made the deep gashes in the wood, I made sure to stare directly into the lens and let my pointed silence choke the air. Let Elren come up with stories behind a new mystery at Fontaine Manor. They needed something new to gossip about, anyway.
Olivia’s eyes glittered as she surveyed the room. The floral wallpaper had been her choice. The carved wooden dresser? Another find from her inspiration file. Everything in the room had been carefully crafted to be entirely “hers.”
Well, except for my one small contribution.
Olivia turned around and her hand flew to her mouth. “Beau, is that…?”
I slowly walked into the room as we both admired the antique couch.
“It’s newly refurbished,” I explained. “A rescue from the dusty attic of an old department store.”
Olivia tentatively approached the couch. “I’m almost too afraid to, but I can’t resist.”
She slowly sank down onto the center cushion, waited a moment, and then bounced.
She could bounce on that couch all she wanted—it wouldn’t break again. Tyson Copeland really could fix anything.
Olivia sweetly looked up at me. “Thank you. This is a wonderful surprise.”
“Who said I was done?” I walked over to the armoire and retrieved a black shoebox. “It’s the one-year anniversary of you braving that surgery and becoming a mother. Did you really think I wouldn’t get you a present too?”
I handed my wife the box and she eagerly opened it. She unwrapped two high-heeled shoes with red paint shining on the soles. The leather was a princessy pink and they had silk ribbons instead of straps or buckles.
“I figured you might enjoy those when you go to court againstyour old firm next week,” I said.
Olivia’s brows knitted as she admired the shoes. “These aren’t from the Spring collection.”
