, utterly sincere. I blink at him as my heart expands. Holy cow, he
really does love me.
“Well”—I swallow, fighting the small knot of emotion that catches in my throat
—“I like the glass wall. Maybe we could ask her to incorporate it into the
house a little more sympathetically.”
Christian grins. “Sure. Whatever you want. What about the plans for upstairs
and the basement?”
“I’m cool with those.”
“Good.”
Okay . . . I steel myself to ask the million-dollar question. “Do you want to put
in a playroom?” I feel the oh-so-familiar flush creep up my face as I ask.
Christian’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Do you?” he replies, surprised and amused at once. 121 | P a g e
Fifty Shades Freed
I shrug. “Um . . . if you want.”
He regards me for a moment. “Let’s lea一ve our options open for the moment.
After all, this will be a family home.”
I’m surprised by the stab of disappointment I feel. I guess he’s right . . .
although when are we going to ha一ve a family? It could be years.
“Besides, we can improvise.” He smirks.
“I like improvising,” I whisper.
He grins. “There’s something I want to discuss.” Christian points to the
master bedroom, and we start a detailed discussion on bathrooms and
separate walk-in closets.
When we finish, it’s nine thirty in the evening.
“Are you going back to work?” I ask as Christian rolls up the plans.
“Not if you don’t want me to.” He smiles. “What would you like to do?”
“We could watch TV.” I don’t want to read, and I don’t want to go to bed . . .
yet.
“Okay,” Christian agrees willingly, and I follow him into the TV
room.
We ha一ve sat here three, maybe four times total, and Christian usually reads a
book. He’s not interested in television at all. I curl up beside him on the
couch, tucking my legs beneath me and resting my head against his
shoulder. He switches on the flat screen with the remote and flicks mindlessly
through the channels.
“Any specific drivel you want to see?”
“You don’t like TV much, do you?” I mutter sardonically. He shakes his head.
“Waste
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