Page 28 of Daddy's Reckoning
“Oh, and you just decided what I wanted didn’t matter?”
She was fired up, unreasonable, and wrong. Pushing off the wall, I smiled. I liked to battle with her. “You’re making a lot of judgments about a place you haven’t even looked at,” I retorted, even-keeled.
“I’ve seen enough.”
“You’ve seen one room.”
“And every single inch of that room has been outfitted. There’s not a detail you didn’t cover. It’s supposed to be my room. Isn’t it? Wasn’t that the whole point of this?”
I nodded slowly. “That was the point. Now, look me in the eye and tell me it wasn’t meticulously, down to every last detail, exactly what you would have done yourself if you had the means.”
Her eyes flashed with ire, and her mouth dropped open in surprise. For days I’d been taking everything she threw at me, without question, without blowback, without acknowledgement, even. Not today.
“I… I…” she sputtered. “That’s not the point.”
“I think that's exactly the point.”
Before she could argue some more, I bent at the waist and scooped her into my arms. “You’re running out of time to be on your feet,” I offered by way of explanation.
She rolled her eyes, but allowed me to carry her as I continued the tour. She’d only seen the guest room and bath and the living room before she’d started a fight. There was still a lot of house to see, so I carried her into the kitchen. The kitchen was bright and airy with white walls and cabinets, a breakfast nook, an island with stools where I could picture our child sitting, watching the two of us make dinner together. It was modest and old-fashioned while still being decked out with every high-end modern appliance and gadget known to man. Italian espresso maker, check. Smart fridge and oven, check. Built-in high-speed dishwasher, check. Italian copper pans hung from a rack above the island, adding warmth to the room.
Erin looked around the room and gasped. I bit back a smile. I already knew it was the kitchen of her dreams, because once upon a time, before everything had gone sideways, we’d talked about that kind of stuff.
“How’d I do?” I asked with a smirk.
“It’s not bad,” she answered begrudgingly. “It might be a little too fancy. Neither of us really cook all that much.”
“You cook. You made that frittata for breakfast the other day. And you’re just making up things to fight about.”
Erin sighed, her shoulders rising, then dropping. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But you’re still crazy.”
“I know.” I just smiled at her, loving the flush of pleasure on her cheeks, and the way she was trying to hide her excitement. She was fucking perfect. “Would you like to see your office?”
“I don’t need an office.”
“Maybe not yet, but you will someday in the future when you’re a super-important surgeon bringing home the big bucks, and curing all the world's problems with your medical breakthroughs.”
She rolled her eyes at me as I carried her out of the room and up the stairs. “If I become a doctor. And at this point it’s a big if.”
I raised a brow at that, but didn’t respond. I couldn’t tell if she was serious or if that was just the newest way she’d come up with to bait me.
“Whatever. Use it as a library, then. Or a craft room. A home gym. A theater. A she-cave. Whatever you want.”
“You’re impossible,” she countered. But she was smiling and laughing.
I took it as a win. But I wasn’t done yet. I didn’t show her my room or office, because she didn’t need to see them, and they looked exactly like my room and office at my apartment. Besides, that wasn’t what we were here for. This place wasn’t about me. It was about her. And it was time to bring in the big guns.
Pausing outside the nursery, I drew in a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer that I’d gotten it right. My goal had been ‘just enough, not too much’. I’d gone neutral because I didn’t yet know if she was hoping for a boy or a girl, just like I didn’t know what I was hoping for. We hadn’t had time to talk about that kind of stuff. Or maybe we’d both been too stubborn. I was hoping that showing her what was behind the door would change that.
“Are we just going to stand here in the hallway?” Her voice, tinged with a laughing impatience, broke through my thoughts, and I realized I’d been spacing out. “What room is this? Is it yours?”
“It’s our baby’s nursery.” I spoke with intention, laying claim to the child she was growing.
Her lips parted in a soft gasp, and her throat contracted with her swallow. She was nervous; that was easy to see. But why? Was it for all the reasons I’d already thought of? Or something that was going to catch me by surprise?
“Theo!” She cried out, smacking my chest, and I realized I’d been doing it again. “Are you going to show me, or are we just going to stand here, building suspense?”
“Sorry.” I smiled ruefully. “I’m a little nervous.”