Page 81 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

Blake:Don’t you forget it!

Me:Like you’d ever let me.

Blake:Never! Why do you think I married you?

Me:Because Mingati married us in a semi-nomadic marriage ceremony?

Blake:Correction. Why do you think I American-married you?

Me:I love you, Blake Parker.

Blake:I love you hardcore, Gloria Parker. Text you when I’m on my way.

“By that smile, I’m going to guess that the text exchange was with Loverboy?” Lorelei asked.

“Who else would I have a text exchange with?”

She shrugged, letting the most lascivious smile spread over her pretty lips. “Maybe you’re having a torrid affair. Could be with a member of the grounds staff… or someone from back home.”

“Uh… no. First off, he doesn’t keep a grounds staff. He contracts it out. Secondly, Vermontismy home.”

I knew she was simply teasing me, but I didn’t appreciate hearing either of those scenarios leave her mouth to reach any of our ears. I not only loved my husband. I was a golden retriever—no, anIrish setter(the red hair)—in the loyalty department. I’d never have a torrid affair unless it was with my husband and the torrid affair was some kind of kinky roleplaying.

It wasn’t too long before the bell over the door chimed, alerting us to another customer entering the store. Olivia excused herself while we continued to walk. It wasn’t but a couple of minutes later that I heard, “I’ll take that one, right there.”

Surprise didn’t begin to cover it. I turned around to take in all that was my husband. Black suit. Finger pressed to his lips as if in thought.

“Olivia,” I said, “I didn’t know the Parkers shopped here.”

Olivia rolled her eyes.

“I heard all the best Parkers frequented this establishment,” Blake said, winking. His dimple deepened.

He started walking toward me, so I started toward him, meeting him on the walkway between the first two rooms. “Have you seen anything you like?” he asked.

“I love that.” I pointed to an antique wardrobe from I had no idea the time period. But it looked old and insupergood condition. “And I love?—”

“We tend to sell the rooms,” Olivia said, cutting me off.

“Do you want the room?” Blake asked me.

I shook my head. “I like that piece.” Then I pointed to the other vignette. “And I love that sofa. It’s not antique, right?”

“No,” Lorelei said. “It’s new.”

“Then can I get it in a different color? Fabrics to choose from?”

“We sell the rooms,” Olivia said again. “Each piece is carefully picked by our in-house designer to create the most aesthetically pleasing space possible.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” he replied. “My wife wants to redecorate our entire home, but she doesn’t want to buy each room. She wants to decorate in her own style. I guess we’ll keep looking.”

He offered his arm to me and I wrapped both of mine through his bent one as he turned us to head toward the door.

“The whole house?” Olivia asked while literally trying to block our escape. “We sell rooms because our clientele tend to prefer it that way. However, given your friendship with my sister, we’ll be happy to make an exception. Let’s make a plan.”

“Glory?” Blake asked, eyebrow raised. “Is that acceptable for you or would you prefer we shop elsewhere?”

Okay, so I shot him one of my sauciestoh, my husband is goodfaces—and yes, this one took the whole face. I looked around the large space. “Well, I do like that piece for the biggest guest room.” The wardrobe that I’d originally had my eye on.

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