Seize His Little Wife

Within half an hour, the square arrived.

The square was full of people, men and women, young and old, out to make art, out to dance with their children, everything.

Christine White takes Baird Lane’s hand and walks through the crowd.

The excellent appearance of the two men drew hiring flanks around them.

After all, there aren’t many Easterners who can make them Westerners think they look good.

“Honey, go there, there are lots of pigeons there!” Christine White said, holding a bag of pigeon food she had just bought and pointing to a lighthouse not far away.

Baird Lane looked over and saw that there were indeed quite a few pigeons resting on the railings there.

“Just go there.” Baird Lane nodded in agreement.

Christine White let go of her hand and ran fast towards nowhere.

Baird Lane saw this and frowned, “Slow down, don’t get hit!”

“It’s okay.” Christine White smiled back at him as she ran.

She had a beautiful smile, enhanced by the flyaway of her long hair.

Baird Lane looked at her with such vivacity that any thoughts of slowing her down were suddenly dispelled.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

He’d rarely seen her with such a lively side, and now that he had, he shouldn’t let her liveliness go, period!

Thinking about it, Baird Lane picked up the camera on his chest, which Christine White had given him to hang on to, and took a picture of Christine White’s back.

Click!

Christine White’s lively backside is framed in the camera.

Baird Lane looked at the picture and smiled slightly.

He was quite confident in his photo taking skills.

“Honey, what are you doing, get over here.” Christine White had ripped open the bag of pigeon food and grabbed a handful out, spilling it on the floor.

The pigeons resting on the railing took a look at the food and immediately flew down, stopped in front of Song Nuan and started eating.

Because these pigeons are always in the plaza and people feed them all the time, they are not afraid of people.

Even if Song Nuan squatted down to pet them, they just buried their heads in their food and didn’t bring to hide.

Baird Lane came over and Christine White held the bag of pigeon food against him, signaling him to feed as well.

Baird Lane shook his head, “No, you feed, I’ll take your picture.”

“Good.” Christine White’s eyes lit up and she immediately nodded her head in agreement, “Shoot it, shoot it back and show it to Aunt Lucy Fubo and little baby and the others.”

With that, Christine White grabs another handful of pigeon food and prepares to feed the pigeons.

This time, she didn’t just spill it on the floor like she did earlier.

Instead, they were spread out in their hands and held in mid-air, trying to wait for the pigeons to fly to their hands and eat them.

Baird Lane saw it and pursed his thin lips with some disapproval, “Christine, don’t feed them like that, or the pigeons will peck you.”

“No, I don’t think so, since I see everyone feeding so much.” Christine White nudged angrily in one direction.

A pretty young girl over there, like Christine White just did, spreading her hands to feed the pigeons.

And the pigeon rested on her arm, looking down to eat from her hand.

The young girl was smiling, her other hand still stroking the pigeon’s feathers, apparently showing no signs of being pecked by the pigeon.

Baird Lane saw this, and while still somewhat disapproving, his heart softened at the sight of Christine White’s expectant gaze, and he nodded, “Okay, if a pigeon pecks you, you drop the pigeon food in your hand, okay?”

“Got it Butler.” Christine White gave him an amused look.

This man, he’s treating her like a child.

Baird Lane couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the sound of Christine White’s voice as a housekeeper.

The title was quite new, but he kinda liked it.

For all his worrying about her now, he was no more than a housekeeper.

Christine White, with Baird Lane’s permission, resumed her hand, which had been released from the pigeon food, and raised it in the air, and had not been long in raising it when a pigeon flew over.

The pigeon lowered its head to eat, moving so softly that it only lightly touched the palm of her hand and didn’t peck her.

This made Christine White smile.

Baird Lane’s taut heart fell back farther at the sight.

“Baird, shoot it, it’ll fly away in a minute instead.” Christine White whipped her head around and urged the man beside her.

The man’s thin lips hooked as he raised his camera and began to take pictures.

Baird Lane took many pictures of Christine White, some of her holding up the dove, some of the dove resting on her, all kinds of images by, very cozy.

Christine White held out her hand, “Show me, what have you shot?”

Baird Lane handed over the camera with alacrity.

Christine White examined one sheet at a time, reading it with a furrowed brow.

“What’s wrong?” Baird Lane asked, seeing that she wasn’t much happier.

Christine White put the camera down, “Something’s missing.”

“What’s missing?” Baird Lane frowned.

Christine White gave him a blank look, “Of course it’s missing you, you’re so focused on taking pictures of myself that they’re all of me, not a single picture of you, and even less of us together.”

At that, Baird Lane was baffled for a moment… kinda.

He didn’t think about that because he doesn’t like to take pictures.

“Give me the camera.” Baird Lane held out his hand.

Christine White, puzzled, gave him the camera.

Baird Lane took it and looked at her with a serious admonition, “You wait here for me and don’t go anywhere, I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Oh.” Although she didn’t know what he was going to do, Christine White obediently nodded her head in agreement.

Baird Lane was then relieved to leave the area with his camera and went a short distance ahead, checking left and right as if he was looking for something.

After a while, Christine White saw him walking towards a photographer, exchanged something with that photographer, who nodded and then followed him.

It was the moment when Christine White finally realized what he had just done.

He did it because she said the photos didn’t have him in them, didn’t have them working together, so he specifically but a professional photographer and asked the photographer to come and take their pictures.

As luck would have it, Baird Lane came over and said, “I asked him to come over and take our picture.”

“I know, I guessed.” Christine White was moved to smile.

Baird Lane handed the camera to the photographer.

The photographer first complimented the camera for being good before directing the two to pose and stand and start taking pictures.

As Baird Lane has always been an old cadre, he doesn’t know how to pose, and he can’t pose, he can’t let go.

So Christine White lets him stand up straight and leans on him herself, posing.

The photographer probably saw that Baird Lane couldn’t let go, so he didn’t force him, nodded and pressed the shutter.

After about a dozen shots, the photographer handed the camera back to the two men, signaling them to see how it went.

This photographer lived up to his reputation as a professional, the shots were so good and clear that Christine White couldn’t even pick a fault when she looked at them.

Seeing that Christine White was satisfied, Baird Lane was naturally satisfied, and then taking the camera to Christine White, he himself took his money-clip out of his pocket and opened it, and drew out a few of the largest denominations of money in this country, and handed them to the photographer as his payment.

The photographer gladly took it, then gave Baird Lane a thumbs-up and gabbled something.

He was speaking the native prophecies of this country, and did not speak common English, and therefore Christine White could not hear him.

But by the way Baird Lane was nodding his head and smiling, he seemed to be listening.

Christine White was sincerely impressed; after all, it was impressive that he even knew the language.

The photographer left and Christine White tugged on Baird Lane’s sleeve, “Baird, what did he just say?”

“Want to know?” Baird Lane put away his money clip.

Christine White nodded, “Of course I want to.”

“Then you kiss me.” Baird Lane pointed to his face.

Christine White glared, “Why do you take advantage of me every chance you get?”