Page 39 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
Then I turned and fled. The moment I got into my car, I positioned the air conditioning vents to blow full blast on my face as I drew in deep breaths.
Oh, fuck, thisisreal.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Harper
“You seriously wantto get rid of everything?” I asked, my mouth dropping open. We were creating an official list of the items Lincoln wanted to sell, starting with his front parlor. There were some unique pieces in this house. Like the pair of French Louis XVI style winged-back Bergère chairs that appeared to have its original paint. They had beautiful channeling and carvings throughout the wood frame, with cabriole style legs.
I couldn't wait to get a closer look. How could he not want to keepanyof it?
“I wasn’t going to. Why? Is there anything you think I should keep?” He crossed his arms, drawing my attention to the muscles bulging beneath his T-shirt and the tattoos trailing down his arms. I bit my lip. I hadn't thought much about tattoos before, but his ink turned me on. I remembered licking the phoenix that wrapped around his arm and tracing the letters in the phrase that ran across his back.
But my objective was to help Lincoln clear the house.And that's it,I reminded myself for the tenth time in an hour.
I shrugged. “It’s not my house. You need to make that choice.” While all of it wasn’t my style, I appreciated the design and knew many items would look cool mixed with other types of furniture.
“But if you did live here, what would you keep?” He gave me a wide-eyed innocent look.
“Nice try, Lincoln. I know what you’re getting at. I’m not moving in.” I gave him what I hoped was my most disapproving stare.
Clearly not fazed, he threw his hands out in front of him, waving them around. “Of course. I totally get that, but we’ll be spending a lot of time together. I want you to be comfortable here.”
I stared at his hands, remembering all the sinful things they'd done during our weekend together.Rein it in, Harper!“Being pregnant kind of throws comfort out the window.” I chuckled and affectionately rubbed my belly.
Lincoln gave me a sweet smile. “Harper, stop stalling, and give me your opinion.”
He didn't make keeping my distance easy. I'd done nothing but think about his offer to move in since yesterday. By giving him furniture suggestions, it would make it far easier to imagine myself here. “Fine,” I huffed. I'd point out a few items, and maybe that would be enough to get him to stop asking. “The bookcases over there. They’re an English Tudor style, and the carved leaf details are beautiful.”
“And the two couches?” He pointed at the Victorian couches across the room.
“While they’re charming, I’m more into comfort. I’d say no.” Was it silly I was excited he wanted my opinion? Even if I wasn’t living with him, our child would be.
It was strange to think we were having a kid together. Especially since the whole vibe we were giving off was pretty domestic. I needed to remind myself that this was a job. I wasn’t here redecorating like the couple we might appear to be, or that a small part of me might wish we were.
“Then those go. The bookcases stay.”
