"They're new," he said.
"The elders bought me pillows?"
He started to say yes, they must have. Because that was the safe answer. He was not a man who bought pillows. He was not a man who noticed that someone liked pillows. But if he was trying to show her a better side of himself, it did not behoove him to pretend the elders had bought Olivia pillows. Still, it was with no small amount of trepidation that he said, "I picked them up in the city earlier today."
"So you weren't working all morning?"
"No."
"They're perfect." She turned toward the huge sleigh bed, the wood gleaming.
"You'll want to replace the mattresses," he said. "But that set will do for now with new bedding."
"Which you also bought," she said, walking over and checking through the pile, still in the plastic. "Your taste is a whole lot better than mine."
"My budget is a whole lot higher than yours. Temporarily."
She looked around the room, the fading sun suffusing it with a warm glow. "Wow. Just wow. I'm going to keep saying that. In case you're wondering about the thank-you part, I'm waiting until after the tour, or I'm just going to keep saying that, too, and making you very uncomfortable."
Which was not untrue. His thanks came from her expression and the glow in her eyes.
"There are bookshelves in the attic," he said, "but I thought you might prefer them in whichever bedroom you choose as an office. I'd suggest the one with the triskelion. It has the best light."
She popped back into the hall and waved at the other front room. "That's your room, then?"
"The spare bedroom," he corrected.
"The only person who'd sleep in it is you. Unless I kick Ricky out of bed."
She laughed at that, suggesting the number of times that had happened--or was likely to happen--was zero. Regrettably.
Olivia zipped into the spare room. Gabriel followed, more slowly this time. He had considered taking another, perhaps the small, dark one beside it. The second front bedroom, while it lacked the half tower, was still big and airy, with oversized windows and stained glass. It seemed, yes, frivolous to put a bed in there.
He could tell himself he was selecting a guest room--not his room--and that's why he'd chosen the better one. But Olivia was right that no one else would use it, and he'd decided that if it seemed not to matter which he took, he might as well take what he wanted. Which should be easy. He spent his life taking what he wanted. Olivia was correct here, too, though, that there was a difference between buying his greystone office because it best suited his needs and buying it because he liked it. Practicality versus frivolity. Logic versus emotion.
"The other two rooms are unfurnished," he said. "There is furniture in the attic, if you decide to stay. The elders say it all comes with the house. I've put the table and chairs in the dining room and added basics to the kitchen--a set of dishes and cutlery, pots, a coffeemaker."
"Gotta have the coffeemaker."
"I thought so."
She turned to him. "All right, then, counselor. Convince me I won't be shooting myself in the foot if I move in temporarily."
He gave her his argument, namely that the elders understood the purchase of the house in no way indicated she was leaning in their direction, no more than living at Grace's did. It was the safest arrangement. It was also a balanced one. Cainsville provided Olivia with shelter, and her living there provided the town with greater access to her than the Cwn Annwn had.
"Do you want it?" he asked as he finished.
"Yes, but--"
"Do you honestly believe that a house, however much you like it, would make you side with the Cainsville fae if you did not believe it was the right decision?"
"No." She took a deep breath. "I guess that answers my question."
"It does, and having decided, I suggest we put that coffeemaker to use and step into the garden."
"Which is going to need some serious elbow grease."
When he said nothing, she looked over at him. "No..."