Trace said as they walked toward the parking lot. And she shouldn’t be, given the news they had just received. Unable to say why, without going back on their deal, and putting Trace in an untenable position, Poppy said the first thing that came into her head. “I was thinking about the nursery.” Not about whether or not you’ll ever love me the way I’m beginning to realize I’ve always loved you. She swallowed. “Had I known we had this much time...” Her brow furrowed thoughtfully. “I would have painted it before we set it up.” Trace, who had reached into his jacket pocket as if to take something out, removed his hand. “What’s wrong with the color in there now?” “It’s ecru. That was fine, for an office-slash-guest room. Very neutral and relaxing. But the walls in a nursery should be more cheerful.” He shortened his strides to match hers. “So we’ll paint it.”
