Page 23 of Dallas
Her pupils are dilated, and her lips are parted when she turns to face me on unsteady feet. “I like this room,” she murmurs.
I lift a brow. “You haven’t seen any of the others.”
“I don’t need to. I already know this room is the right one.”
I stare at her. “How do you know that, baby? Maybe one of the others is even better.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. This is the one.”
I take her hand and lead her to the door on one side of the room. When I open it, she glances at me. “What’s this?”
“The adjoining room.”
She steps inside and gasps. “It’s a nursery.”
“Yep.” Not many of the rooms in this monstrosity of a mansion are actually nurseries, even if they once had been, but this one definitely is. It still has a crib and a changing table in it. They are over seventy years old and probably break about fifty safety violations, so I would never use them, but they bring out a reaction in my woman.
I watch her closely as she takes a few more steps into the room. She’s not running from the house, at least. She approaches the crib and touches it with the same delicate reverence as she gave the post of the bed in our room. “This is probably worth a fortune,” she whispers.
I come up behind her and set my hands on her hips. “Maybe. I’ll look it up. I thought we should have an estate sale and unload some of this old stuff, but Claire and Reagan were appalled. They think we should prepare this old pile of bones for it to be opened to the public in the future with original furnishings. So I guess we’ll move a lot of this ancient furniture to the attic for now.”
She nods. “That’s reasonable.” She turns toward me and tips her head back. “I’m not even sure I want kids, Dallas. I’ve never thought about it. I never even thought about getting married, let alone having a baby.”
I force myself not to react. Instead, I pull her closer, gripping her hips. I set my forehead against hers. “But now you have me.”
She holds my gaze. “That’s hard to wrap my head around.”
“You’ll get there.” I decide to nudge her about her past. “Why didn’t you think of marriage and kids before you met me, baby? Did something happen in your past to turn you against the idea?”
She looks down and pushes away from me.
I let her go. She’s working through whatever it is she won’t tell me. I won’t wait forever, but I will be patient for now.
When she wanders to the window to stare out of it, arms crossed, hands rubbing her biceps, I think she might reveal something, but instead she says, “We should go downstairs. Gretchen probably has dinner ready.”
“Okay, but eventually, you’re going to need to talk to me, baby.”
“I know.” She looks past me. “I need to use the bathroom.”
I smirk. “You can pee if you want, but you may not wash my come off your skin.”
She rolls her eyes. “Dallas, you’re such a caveman.”
“Yep.”
“It’s dry and tight.”
“Yep,” I repeat, “And it will remind you to behave in the future.”
“I’m not a child,” she argues weakly.
“Nope. You’re submissive, though, and you like it when I’m bossy.”
She sighs, not bothering to argue that point.
“Fine. Let’s go have dinner.”
Chapter 10
