Page 29 of Broken Chains

I didn’t belong in Peyton’s world, and I wouldn’t bring her down to mine.

Peyton

Chapter 11

Everything was going great with Oliver, until we pulled up to the store. I could feel the change in him, which told me our bond was strengthening. I didn’t understand why he suddenly went cold as we arrived, but I was determined to have a good time and excited to finally pick out furniture for the house. I had transferred plenty of money over from savings to cover everything I needed, including the four extra bedroom sets I hadn’t planned on buying. I just wouldn’t get the grand piano for the sitting room that I had been eyeballing. It was more extravagant than I wanted anyway, and to the best of my knowledge no one even played.

I stopped just before we walked in and turned to square off with Oliver.

“Look, I can feel when your attitude changes,” I confessed. “I know this is an expensive place, but I have the money saved just for this. I’m not running up a bunch of debt or wracking up credit card bills. This is something I’ve been saving for a very long time, Oliver. I’m excited about being able to do this all on my own. This money isn’t part of my monthly stipend, this is money I earned myself and I’m proud of that fact. So knock it off and come have fun with me.”

He gave me a strange look. “Spending tons of money on furniture is fun? Peyton, I can build you whatever you want for a fraction of the cost of anything in here,” he said.

I considered that. “I hadn’t thought about it like that. Okay, there’re a couple pieces I have in mind and haven’t been able to find anything close online. I can show you and explain it, if you’ll just drop the defense and let me.”

He sighed. “I’m happy for you, Pey, and I’m sorry if it feels like I’m not. Whatever you want is fine. It’s your money.”

I grinned back at him evilly. “Good. So absolutely no complaints then?”

He started to relax, and then smiled. “I promise, I won’t say a word. This is your day.”

An hour later, we were standing in front of bedroom suites.

“You aren’t buying four extra beds and all this other stuff just for me and my brothers,” he insisted. I backed off on the nursery furniture I wanted desperately for Eve, but I was not going to back down on this.

“You promised to not say a word or complain,” I reminded him. “If you guys weren’t moving in, I’d still be filling these rooms. It’s happening.”

He groaned in frustration as I directed him to a slightly more feminine set with a king bed. “What do you think of this one?” I asked, biting my tongue so I didn’t add “for us” to the end of that statement.

Oliver laughed. “Peyton, that is the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. You could fit my whole family just in the one bed. So there, buy that one and we’ll all sleep on a mattress as you insist.”

I could feel he was loosening up some, but I really needed his opinion on this. “Stop joking, I’m being serious. What do you think of this one?”

He humored me and took a look at it. “It’s not girly enough for you, but it’s a good-looking, solid piece. I like the armoire that matches it; to me, it’s more practical than the dresser with the mirror.”

I considered that from his perspective, and I could see how the taller piece would work better for him. “Will the entire set fit in my room?” I asked.

He took his time as he considered each piece and its size. “Yeah, it’ll work fine in there.”

“And you really like this set?” I pressed. ‘Like if you were buying it for you.”

“Which I wouldn’t, and I’m not,” he said.

“But if you were? Would you pick this one or one of those two?” I said, pointing at the ones on either side of it. They were my second and third picks for our room. Not that I’d tell him I was shopping with the hopes that it would soon be our room and not just mine, and that was the real reason I wanted his opinion.

“Yes, this is the one I’d pick, but we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,” he reminded me.

I smiled coyly. “Good, that’s my favorite, too.” I turned to the salesman. “We’ll take it, in the king, all five pieces.” I ignored him and gave my attention back to Oliver. “I know you aren’t happy that I’m doing this, but I really do want to make sure each room fits the boys, so,” I said, walking him around a couple walls where each suite was set up like a different room. I stopped in front of a dark wood set. It had a bookshelf for the headboard and the room was laid out with a nice desk and chair, plus a dresser. “I’m thinking this set for Tim.”

Oliver scrubbed his hands over his face in frustration. “That’s exactly the one Tim would pick,” he conceded.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” I said. “The black set for Brady, and I’m struggling to find something that says Kenneth.”

We rounded the corner and there it was.

“This one,” Oliver said without even looking at the price tag.

“For you or Kenneth?” I asked.

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