The CEO Above My Desk Chapter 197

***Violet***

I stared out the passenger window while Rowan drove one-handed beside me, his other hand resting possessively on my thigh like he thought I might somehow disappear if he stopped touching me for too long.

Theo’s SUV followed behind us with Camille hanging halfway out the passenger window dramatically pointing at trees every thirty seconds like she’d never seen nature before in her life.

“OH MY GOD THERE’S A DEER.”

Theo’s exhausted voice faintly echoed through the open air.

“That is literally a dog, Camille.”

“IT HAS HOOVES.”

I snorted quietly.

Beside me, Rowan shook his head. “Those two are absolutely incapable of surviving alone.”

“That’s why we adopted them.”

His mouth twitched slightly at that.

Then finally the house came into view through the trees.

I know I just saw early this morning when Rowan surprised me with buying it, but everytime I see it, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It's like my dream house coming true.

The house sat overlooking the river with massive windows reflecting the morning sunlight while the wraparound porch curved beautifully around almost the entire right side of the property.

It somehow looked elegant and cozy at the same time.

Dark stone.

Warm wood.

Black railings.

Huge covered porch.

And the river behind it…

Jesus Christ.

I was already emotionally attached.

Rowan looked over at me immediately when I went quiet.

And the smugness on his face told me everything. “You like it.”

I turned toward him slowly. “Like it?”

He looked way too pleased with himself now. “Dangerous wording.”

“Rowan Ashcroft,” I whispered dramatically while staring back at the house, “if you don’t buy me a rocking chair for that porch immediately, I will actually divorce you.”

Theo pulled up behind us at the exact wrong moment apparently because the second he climbed out of the SUV he yelled: “SHE’S THREATENING DIVORCE ALREADY?”

Camille gasped loudly. “Not before the babies are born, Violet.”

“I WAS JOKING.”

Rowan calmly shut off the vehicle beside me. “I’m still buying the rocking chair.”

Correct answer.

The construction team and interior designer were already waiting outside near the front entrance when we climbed out.

A woman named Denise immediately started walking us through renovation plans while two contractors discussed structural additions with Rowan and Theo near the driveway.

I barely listened.

Because I was too busy staring at the porch again.

It wrapped almost fully around the river-facing side of the house with enough room for swings, outdoor furniture, plants, probably twelve emotional breakdowns, and at least three future family holidays.

I was obsessed. Completely.

Camille immediately latched onto the designer while pointing aggressively toward the left side of the house. “I want cozy woodland rich-wife vibes.”

Denise blinked once. “…I’m sorry?”

“You know,” Camille continued confidently. “Like expensive forest witch.”

Theo sighed deeply before coming to stand by her. “I’m begging you to speak normal for five minutes.”

The inside of the house somehow looked even better.

The entire center section was open concept with huge ceilings and massive windows overlooking the river while the kitchen sat directly in the middle connecting both sides of the house together.

And immediately… Chaos started.

“I want dark cabinets,” Theo announced.

“No,” Camille replied instantly. “Light cabinets.”

“Dark.”

“Light.”

“Dark.”

“Warm cream.”

“Absolutely not.”

Denise looked exhausted already.

I quietly stepped away before they could drag me into the war. Smartest decision I’d made all morning.

Rowan noticed immediately and followed after me without hesitation.

Of course he did.

He caught my hand quietly before leading me farther down the right hallway. “Our side.”

The words hit me strangely hard.

Our side. Not his. Ours.

The hallway opened into the master bedroom and I physically stopped walking. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the river directly while soft sunlight poured across the hardwood floors.

And the porch access…

Oh my God.

There were double doors leading straight outside.

I turned slowly in the middle of the room while trying to picture everything at once.

The bed.

The mornings.

The quiet.

*Us.*

Rowan stayed unusually quiet beside me while watching my expression carefully. “You hate it,” he deadpanned.

I looked at him in disbelief. “Are you insane?”

The corner of his mouth finally twitched slightly.

I wandered slowly toward the porch doors before pushing one open slightly and immediately hearing the river clearer now.

God.

I could actually imagine a life here. Not survival. Not chaos. A life.

Strong arms suddenly wrapped carefully around my waist from behind while Rowan rested his chin lightly against the top of my head.

“This room gets the sunrise first,” he murmured quietly.

I melted a little internally unfortunately.

Then he guided me gently back toward the hallway.

“There’s more.”

I followed him across the hall before he pushed open another door.

Smaller room. Still beautiful. Still bright. And immediately my chest tightened.

Because I knew. Oh.

Oh no.

I slowly stepped farther inside while staring at the empty room.

The nursery. Or future nursery. Potential nursery.

Whatever emotionally safer wording my brain wanted to use right now.

Behind me, Rowan stayed quiet. No pressure. No jokes. Just there.

I touched the edge of the doorway softly while trying to picture it.

A crib. Bookshelves. Tiny clothes. A baby.

Our baby.

The realization still felt surreal honestly.

Rowan’s hand slid slowly into mine. “If you hate this room,” he said quietly, “we can move it somewhere else.”

That man genuinely thought I was crying because of the room placement.

I laughed softly through the sudden sting in my eyes.

Then turned toward him slowly. “I don’t hate it.”

Denise appeared in the doorway looking like she’d already survived at least three emotional breakdowns already.

Behind her, I could faintly hear Camille yelling something about brushed gold cabinet handles while Theo loudly threatened to install a mini fridge in “his side” of the kitchen out of spite.

Denise rubbed one hand against her forehead tiredly before looking between me and Rowan.

“Please tell me one of you has made a decision about this room,” she said weakly.

Rowan immediately looked toward me. Like this decision belonged entirely to me. “Tell her what you want.”

The softness in his voice caught me off guard slightly.

I looked back around the room slowly.

My stomach flipped strangely again. Not nausea this time. Something else. Something warmer.

I walked farther into the room slowly while thinking about it seriously. “We don’t know the gender yet,” I said finally.

Denise immediately pulled out her tablet. “Neutral palette?”

I nodded slightly. “Maybe sage green?” I suggested quietly. “Or even soft yellow.” I glanced toward Rowan briefly. “Nothing too bright though.”

Rowan looked deeply relieved he wasn’t being asked to pick colors.

Denise typed quickly into her tablet.

“Sage is very calming for nurseries,” she agreed. “Soft yellow too if you want warmer lighting tones.”

I nodded slowly before glancing down toward the hardwood flooring. “And I want carpet in here.”

That immediately got Rowan’s attention.

I looked toward him while explaining softly, “I don’t want the baby laying on cold hardwood floors.”

Denise kept typing while I continued quietly. “And the lighting.”

I looked upward toward the large overhead fixture. “It’s too harsh.”

“Dimmer lighting?” Denise asked.

“Muted,” I corrected softly. “Warm lighting. Nothing too bright at night.” I swallowed slightly. “I don’t want it disturbing the baby.”

“We can absolutely do soft carpeting,” she assured me. “And we can install recessed ambient lighting instead of overhead direct fixtures.” More typing. “Blackout curtains too if you’d like.”

“Yes,” Rowan answered immediately.

I blinked toward him.

He cleared his throat slightly. “…For naps.”

Denise’s smile widened slightly. "Perfect. Why don't we go talk about the master bedroom now and the bathroom?"