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Chapter 14
Jack
ADMITTEDLY SETTING UP this carriage ride was stupid. There’s no real explanation for what possessed me to call Charlie and ask him to come. There’s just something about Nora that makes me want to do special things for her. Just to see her smile.
It’s like a compulsion. Like gambling or hoarding or overeating.
I know I should stop. That it’s not healthy. But there’s no helpline to call for my problem. So the compulsion wins.
Of course I didn’t get myself a smile this time. Nope. Which leaves me a man chasing his next hit.
Don’t ask me to explain why, even after she completely decimated my pride by asking how I paid for this carriage ride, I’m still going for that smile of hers.
Charlie leads the horses back into the parking lot of the courthouse. I spot my friends all sitting on the curb as they wait for us to return. They’re all touching each other. Stafford is massaging Lucy’s lower back, Mel’s head is resting on Anderson’s shoulder, and Montgomery has his arm slung around Emily’s neck, his thumb tracing the arc of her shoulder.
I look down at the foot of space separating me from Nora. We are most decidedly not touching. Us, the newlyweds.
Something inside me deflates. This isn’t the kind of marriage I wanted. Call me old-fashioned but I always imagined getting married to a woman who would want to cuddle with me in the back of a horse-drawn carriage. Or cuddle with me anywhere, for that matter.
Quite suddenly Nora slides across the bench, her thigh pressing against my thigh in a way that sends zings of pleasure through my body. I look over at her and she must see the surprise on my face, because she jerks her head toward my friends.
“Since your three best friends went and found themselves women who they apparently can’t stop touching, we’re going to have to try and keep up,” she explains. “We are supposed to be newlyweds, after all.”
“Not just supposed to be,” I mutter, “we are newlyweds.”
She flushes. “You know what I mean. We’re supposed to be in love.”
“Right. In love.” I nod. “I’ll do my best to pretend.” I sling an arm over her shoulder and pull her against me in the name of being pretend in love with her. But the deep inhale I take of her hair as she settles against me has more to do with me being actually in love with her.
“The lovebirds have returned,” Lucy trills as the carriage pulls up to them.
“Just in time too,” Anderson says, hopping to his feet, then offering Mel a hand up. “We got an ID on the body. Ran his photo through some facial recognition software.” Next to me Nora stiffens. I wish we could have a quick sidebar so I could tell her how to react when he says the name, but since we can’t I just work on schooling my own features into the appropriate expression of concern over this new information. “The dead body is a guy named Ian Wharfman.”
Next to me Nora gasps. I hold back a sigh of relief. A gasp was a good response.
“You know him?” Anderson asks, correctly interpreting her gasp.
“H-h-he’s, or rather he was, my boss,” Nora replies faintly. I guess I didn’t need to worry about her responding with the appropriate mix of shock and horror. She’s nailing it. When I look her way, though, I realize that some part of her is not faking it.
Her face is pale and her lower lip is quivering. Her body starts trembling in a classic stress response.
“Nora, honey,” I whisper, the term of endearment slipping out before I can think better of it, “it’s okay. You’re okay.” I pivot my body, place a hand on each of her shoulders, then look her straight in the eye.
“Oh my,” I hear someone say behind us. “I think she’s having a panic attack. Reed, we need to do something.”
“I think Reynolds has got it, Em,” Montgomery replies, voice low.
“Maybe she needs some water,” Lucy suggests. “Nate, can you get her some water?”
“Focus on me,” I say to Nora, attempting to tune them all out. But they keep on going.
“She should breathe,” Mel says. “Tell her to breathe, Reynolds. Sounds silly, but half the time when my residents are panicking they forget all about breathing.”
“Breathe, Nora,” Lucy instructs. “In and out.” She demonstrates the basic body function loudly, only she must’ve been to a birthing class recently because instead of steady in and out breathes her breathing sounds like hee-hee, hoo-hoo. A fact Stafford is quick to point out.
“She’s not giving birth, Red,” he teases.
“I sounded like I was giving birth?” Lucy asks, stopping her breathing demonstration. “Oh thank God, because you know I’ve been worried I won’t actually be able to handle giving birth, but if I can sound like I’m giving birth that’s half the battle, right?”
