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Jack’s mouth immediately flattens into a line and his shoulders tense. “You heard me talking to him.” He says this as a statement, not a question, then sighs. “Nothing’s definite. I just happened to see the picture on his desk of his daughter on a horse, so we got to talking and it came out that they’re looking to move out of the city. Since I’m going to be listing my house soon, it seemed like a potential opportunity for both of us.”
“But why?” I ask. “You love that house.”
Jack scrubs a hand over his face. “You know why, Nora. Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
I study him for a beat. “Yes,” I finally say. “I need you to say it.” If the man won’t willingly be vulnerable with me I will force him to do so. I don’t know where he got the idea that admitting he needs help sometimes makes him weak, but I am here to debunk that line of thinking.
Jack’s gray eyes blaze. “Fine,” he bites out. “I can’t afford my house payments on top of paying for Joy’s group home. Okay? Are you happy now?” He slumps back against the wall, looking defeated.
I straighten my shoulders, a sense of purpose filling me. I’d already mentally committed myself to helping pay Joy’s bills, but knowing that doing so will help him keep his house makes a monumental difference. After all, Jack can’t have his dream of a big family living on his sprawled out ranch if he no longer has the ranch.
“You’re not selling your house,” I declare.
“Not your decision,” he counters, somehow unimpressed by my bravados.
“We’re about to get married, so I’d say that means I have some say in the matter. And since I would much rather live there than at my condo, I think it’s only fair that I help pay the mortgage. That’s what husbands and wives do, after all, they pay the bills together.”
Jack stares at me, looking as if he’s searching for some way to counter my words. I know it must be killing him for me to bail him out. He much prefers to be the hero rather than the one in need of saving. But too bad, mister, because I brought my sword and my trusty steed and I am fully prepared to slay your dragon. So for once—open your sexy mouth and cry for help.
Jack takes a shaky breath, and I can practically see the weight of everything he’s been carrying pressing down on him. So I take things a step further, forcing my help on him.
“If us being husband and wife is not a good enough reason for me to help pay the bills,” I say, “then perhaps it would behoove you to remember that you phrased this arrangement of ours as us being like roommates. Well, guess what, Jack, roommates both pay rent.”
His response is of the nonverbal variety. First he sighs, then he looks to the heavens, but then—then he nods.
I bite back a smile and nod back. “Great,” I chirp. “Glad we got that sorted out. Now let’s go get married.”
Chapter 12
Jack
I WAS NOT prepared for the sight of Nora in a veil. Who knew that one flimsy, sheer piece of material could make a woman look so beautiful? That it could make her look like my wife?
And yes, I do mean that in the primal, that’s my wife sort of way.
Which is ridiculous because none of this is real.
We’re back in the judge’s chambers now; Lucy and Emily huddled in the doorway watching with gleeful expressions. Nora is facing me looking calm and composed, her hands—per Lucy’s pointed suggestion—are in mine, the sensation of the contact stifling in its intensity. Especially since I’m still trying to get my bearings back after Nora sent my world spinning.
She wants to help pay my mortgage. And I don’t like it. If this marriage were real then sure, I’d see her point. Married couples share the burden of expenses. But our marriage isn’t real. So Nora’s offer makes me feel…insufficient…and inadequate…and...like a complete failure. I should be able to provide for myself without someone else’s help.
Why doesn’t she see it that way?
And perhaps even more confusing—why isn’t she put off by it? On the contrary, she seemed almost excited to be able to help me.
“We are gathered here today,” Judge Karplin recites the familiar lines and I attempt to pay attention to him rather than the distracting woman in front of me.
It is not an easy task. The green dress she’s wearing brightens her already green eyes to a striking jade color, there’s an alluring pink flush to her cheeks, and she keeps running her tongue across her upper lip as if she wants to call attention to the fact that she has very kissable lips. You know, in case I forgot that fact these last three years.
Spoiler: I did not forget.
What I did forget: the standard kiss at the end of a wedding ceremony. But my new fixation with her lips brings the reminder of it rushing to the front of my mind.
The judge has reached the part leading up to my “I do,” and my heart starts to pick up speed. I’m going to have to kiss her. If Emily and Lucy weren’t here then maybe I could’ve gotten away with not doing it, but with them watching there’s no way to get out of it.
And if I kiss her things are going to get even more confusing than they already are when it comes to my feelings for her.
Which is why it makes no sense that my whole body is buzzing with anticipation, every cell acutely aware of her nearness, of her impending touch.
