Page 51 of The Photo
“I’ve always wanted to live in a castle. This is the next best thing.” I take her hand in mine and carefully help her out of the car. “And a beautiful wife is something I never thought was possible––until you tried to bulldoze me to the pavement with a shoulder move.”
She quietly stares at the grand entrance and arched doorway, keeping her thoughts hidden behind her glistening eyes. I march forward, stab the key in the lock and swing the door inward. When I turn back, she’s clutching the car door, and her face is pale. “Are you okay?”
“I feel a bit dizzy.” A palm slides across her tummy, and she crouches forward.
Immediately, I’m by her side, stroking the hair tumbling over her shoulders. “Do you want me to carry you over the threshold?” I ask, fixing the collar of her jacket and kissing her temple.
Her head shakes back and forth. “You might drop me, or I might puke on your shirt. Then I won’t be your beautiful wife. I’ll be like an ugly ogre.” She smiles faintly, trying her best to crack a joke.
“Rowan, if you threw up on me, you’d still be the best-looking woman in the whole world.” There’s plenty more time to carry my wife into our new home. “Come inside your new home. I’ve decorated our bedroom.” I’m actually crazy excited for her to see what I’ve done. The decorators have been hard at work from the second I signed the papers and took ownership of the keys.
Gingerly, she takes small steps, clamping my forearm like she’s about to fall over. We were married just over six months ago and talked about moving to Ireland permanently. I never fully committed. Now, this place is our home. It’s our roots. The foundations of Noah and Rowan.
“OMIGOD, it’s beautiful.” Her head leans back to follow the cream rendering all the way up the vaulted ceiling.
I guide her up each step of the wooden staircase with a palm to her lower back, and her temple pressed to my bicep. “I can’t believe you bought a manor house.” She looks up at me when we reach the top step. “Are you selling the apartment in Canada?”
“Nope. That’s our hide-away. The modeling agency is based there, so we’ll fly over when I need to be there in person.”
Her eyes light up. “Good. That place has happy memories.”
“And this place will have a whole bunch of new ones,” I offer with a big smile. Right now, I’m the happiest guy on the planet. We walk into the master bedroom at the end of the airy landing.
The designer recreated a version of the hotel suite where we stayed on our honeymoon. Rowan adored the simplistic style and rich furnishings, so I thought it would be an ideal look to replicate.
“Noah. I’m speechless. It’s so—” She ambles further into the room, stroking the cotton sheets and elegant furniture. I have to admit, the room is huge, and it turned out snazzier than the five-star hotel. “It’s just like our honeymoon suite—but prettier.” Rowan tilts into a bunch of powder pink tulips.
“This isn’t the best part.” I jog over to the double doors. “Guess what’s in here.” My heart is thumping like an over excited kid.
“A walk-in closet?”
“Even better!” I fling the doors open. “Ta-da!”
“Holy shit, Noah!” Rowan palms her cheeks and waddles into the adjoining nursery. “Seahorses! It’s like an underwater aquarium!”
I relax at the sight of her surprise with that squeal of delight and wide grin. She’s my world, right there in a cute, pregnant package of Rowan-hotness. The small room is kitted out with hanging seahorse montages, framed photographs captured during our visit to the coral reef in South America, along with an assortment of stuffed sea life like an octopus, fish, sharks, dolphins––if it swims in the ocean, it's here, and a round crib.
“I hope she likes it,” I say strolling up behind her and bringing my hand to her belly.
“Of course she will. She’ll adore it.” Rowan turns into me, nudging my groin with a protruding baby belly. “She’ll adore you even more.”
It turns out we made a baby on the first night of our honeymoon. I made love to my wife on the four-poster, bed and the moment we finished, a single beam of sunshine burst through the blinds, showering us both in its glory. Rowan kissed me so softly as she lay wrapped in my arms, bathed in the warm light. We both knew something special had just happened. A few weeks later, she confirmed it with a pregnancy test, and then the morning sickness started, and then it blended with evening sickness. Apparently, it’s supposed to ease in the third trimester, unfortunately for Rowan, she’s been in a fluctuating state of nausea for months now, with sugary donuts as her staple diet.
“You did all this for us?” She gushes, a wash of pink colors her pallid cheeks.
“I’d do anything for you and this little one.” I gently stroke her bulge that oddly resembles a football. Is it wrong to get so turned on by my wife all swollen and pregnant with my kid? I cradle her nape and kiss her tenderly. “Now we have a place to call our own. No more traveling until after the birth.”
“No seashells?” She smirks.
“Those are for the adults.” I nuzzle her hair and soak up the tune of her giggle.
“It’s perfect,” she whispers, trailing her nails over my jaw. My pulse races at the contact.
“You’reperfect.” And she is. Even when she gets a tad hangry in the middle of the night and claims our baby needs several salted caramel donuts with extra sprinkles and a bucket of decaf coffee. “This is just the fluffy stuff, Rowan. Without you, this place isn’t my home. It’s just stone and mortar. You’re my life.”
“You keep surprising me. It’s a lot to take in.” She pauses. “I love it.” I breathe into her when she kisses me. “As far as first homes go, this blows the roof off a ten out of ten ranking.”
“And husbands?” I quiz. “What’s the score there?”
