“You two must always trust each other. Mouths are for talking—if you’ve got misunderstandings or you’re upset with one another, just say it. Don’t bottle things up; that only hurts the relationship.”
Yves and Lindsay exchanged a knowing glance and shared a smile.
“I shouldn’t go on and on. You’ll start thinking this old man is getting too long-winded,” Mr. Quigley chuckled, poking fun at himself.
“Good, as long as you know,” Yves teased, playing along.
Mr. Quigley frowned—there he goes again! With a dramatic huff, he turned to Lindsay. “Lindsay, your husband’s got a sharp tongue. Don’t let him sleep in your bed tonight.”
Lindsay grinned, playing along. “Understood, sir.”
Yves raised an eyebrow and shot Lindsay a mock-wounded look.
Lindsay stared up at the ceiling, pretending not to see him.
After a bit more chit-chat, everyone drifted off to their rooms for the night.
Yves turned serious as he looked at Lindsay. “So… am I on the couch tonight?”
Lindsay blinked, only now realizing he’d actually taken Mr. Quigley’s comment to heart.
She hesitated a moment, then replied, “If you want to sleep on the couch, be my guest.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll sleep in bed.” Lindsay couldn’t help but laugh. For someone with such a serious reputation, Yves could be surprisingly childish.
Yves nodded solemnly, his tone earnest. “How else are we supposed to strengthen our marriage? Besides, how will we ever give the old man the granddaughter he keeps asking for?”
The Quigley family already had three grandsons. Mr. Quigley had made it clear—before he left this world, he was hoping for a granddaughter.
Yves’ older brothers were already past their prime child-raising years, so all hopes rested on him.


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