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Of course I say none of this out loud. I’m too busy dying of embarrassment as his gaze hitches on the underwear still in my hand. Still in full view. Hurriedly I stuff it into the pocket of my sweatpants.
Jack’s gray eyes pop up to meet mine. “I figured you would want a fresh pair to wear today,” he says with a shrug, like, oh he was just being nice and thoughtful when he went through my undergarments!
And okay, admittedly it was a little nice. And fine, definitely thoughtful. But I still can’t help but be mad, because there are things in my underwear drawer. Private things. And I’m not just talking about the undergarments.
“Truth be told, I only thought of it,” he goes on in response to my angry silence, “because I snuck into your house last night to find your birth certificate. You’d be surprised how many people keep stuff like that in their underwear drawer, so that was the first place I looked. And while that’s not where I eventually found your birth certificate, it did remind me of your lack of clothing options for today.”
I can feel heat creeping up my neck at the thought of Jack looking through my things. I desperately want to ask him if he found the picture hidden in my underwear drawer, but there’s still a slim chance that he didn’t. And if he didn’t, I don’t want to be the one to tell him that I still have a picture of the two of us that I look at far too regularly for a woman who should’ve moved on from him by now.
Not to mention all of the other stuff in my condo that would clearly scream I never fully got over you!
I inhale a deep breath. “Why didn’t you ask me to come with you?” I demand.
Jack sighs, raking his hand through his hair and looking exasperated. “It was the middle of the dang night, Nora,” he says. “I was trying to be nice and let you sleep. Stafford called me again and left another message telling me they were trying to get a warrant to search your condo. I knew I had to go right away if I wanted a chance to get in and out without being seen.”
Logically I know that I have no right to be mad at Jack. And truthfully, I could move on from this if he could just tell me that he didn’t find the incriminating picture or the drawer that houses all of his sweatshirts—sweatshirts I still regularly wear—or the bottle of Dove shampoo I keep in the drawer of my nightstand and sniff from time to time to remind myself of him….Oh my gosh. I am such a weirdo stalker!
Why have I never realized how messed up it is to sniff shampoo as a way to remember your ex! To still wear his sweatshirts! To gaze longingly at a selfie the two of you took while double riding on his horse!
We won’t even talk about the last thing, the big thing…the truly pathetic thing. The thing that he is going to have to find out about eventually if we’re going to stay married.
My cat will be okay for today, but I’ll have to go get him tonight at the very latest. And then I’ll have some explaining to do to Jack about the fact that I adopted a cat that’s practically identical to Briggs. Grumpy personality and all. Jack is lucky he didn’t get attacked last night.
Honestly though, what’s the point of having a rather aggressive cat if he doesn’t even keep random people out of your underwear drawer?
Oh gosh. I think I need to sit down and reconsider all of my life choices up to this point. Maybe even including this point. I mean, I am about to marry a man for the sole purpose of trying to get away with murder.
That’s not exactly a sign that my life is going well.
Plus, on top of that, I have a pair of underwear in my pocket.
“Look, Nora.” Jack sighs again. “I’m sorry I went through your things without asking. I was just trying to help. If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you go through my drawer of boxers.”
“Ha!” I scoff, looking down at the floor to hide my flaming cheeks. “Thanks, but no thanks.” I cross my arms over my chest and count to ten, giving myself some time to gather my wits. I have the sudden urge to laugh, spurred on by the image of me spitefully going through Jack’s boxers. It’s just so…ridiculous.
Unless he too has a hidden picture of the two of us in there.
But I’m sure he doesn’t.
It’s probably just a bunch of boring black boxers folded into perfect little squares. It actually might be fun to unfold them all then stuff them back into the drawer as one big, unfolded heap. Very below the belt of me—pun intended. Ha!
“Are you laughing?” Jack demands incredulously.
“What? Who me?” I say, lips twitching. “No way. Why would I be laughing?”
Jack narrows his gaze at me. “You think my boxers are funny, do you?”
“W-what? N-no!” The twitching is turning violent. I try to purse my lips against it, but it’s no use—a laugh slips out. And once one is out, there’s no stopping the rest of them. “I have to go get ready!” I gasp through the laughter shaking my body. I swivel on my heel and rush out of the room, the sound of Jack’s answering laughter following me down the hall.
Chapter 10
Jack
SINCE I’M ALREADY finished getting ready— and way too anxious to sit still—I pander around the house completing various tasks off my typical to-do list while I wait for Nora to get ready. Feed my cat, clean the breakfast dishes, stare out my back window and feel a familiar sharp pang that there are no longer horses in my barn to care for. I had to sell them a few months ago to help pay my sister Joy’s group home bills. Fat lot of good it did me, though, since I’ve already got another bill for this past month’s care in my email inbox. Which is why the next step is going to have to be selling this place. Hence the no burying Ian’s body in my backyard.
It occurs to me for the first time that my money problems are probably something I should disclose to Nora before we get married. After all, once we’re husband and wife, my money problems become her money problems. A pit forms in my stomach. I definitely should’ve thought of this last night. What a gross oversight on my part. I pivot away from the window and hurry down the hall to her room.
“Nora!” I call her name as I approach her door.
