Page 28 of More than Words Can Say

He wasn’t about to let her get away. Not without some kind of understanding between them. He lengthened his stride and caught her about the waist.

Abigail’s palms flattened against his chest. Her eyes widened, but only in surprise, not fear, thank the Lord. “I-I’m very tired,” she protested.

He raised a brow. The excuse was weak, even if she had gotten up at four o’clock that morning.

“Good night, husband.” She actually managed to make that sound like a command. Impressive.

Zach grinned. He liked her take-charge side. It showed gumption. Grit. But that didn’t mean he’d be leaving the field of battle with his tail between his legs. He had his own supply of grit.

“You don’t have to share my bed until you’re ready, Abigail, but tonight you vowed to obey me . . . in domestic matters.” He let that sink in for a moment. They had been her words, after all, not his.

She stiffened. Her mouth pursed, no doubt preparing to issue a severe dressing down aimed at putting her arrogant husband in his place. Well, this husband knew his place, and it wasn’t across the hall from his wife. At least not in a permanent arrangement.

“A good-night kiss,” he said before she could lash into him.

She blinked.

“Before you go to bed each night, I want a kiss.” If he couldn’t have the closeness of sleeping beside her, he’d just have to manufacture it another way. And since memories of their wedding kiss had been plaguing him all night, it was the first strategy that came to mind.

She cocked her chin upward. “A kiss.”

“Yep.”

“I suppose that’s a reasonable request.”

It was actually more of a demand, but if it made her feel better to call it a request, he’d go along.

“All right. I agr—”

He didn’t let her finish. Just swooped in and claimed her mouth. Man, but he’d been wanting to do this again. He held her close, relishing the feel of her against him. The taste of her lips. The softness of the skin at her nape as he supported her head while deepening the kiss.

Slowly, he separated his lips from hers and peered into her face. Her lashes fluttered open, revealing beautifully dazed brown eyes.

It might not be the wedding night a man dreamed about, but it was a block to build on.

CHAPTER

15

She was avoiding him. She knew it. Rosalind knew it. Zach probably knew it too. Yes, she had a bakery to run, but that didn’t explain why she’d sent her sister upstairs with a plate of sticky buns and a mug of coffee at precisely 7:20 a.m. Abigail told herself she was being a considerate wife, anticipating her husband’s needs and meeting them with efficiency. Yet as much as she wanted to believe that lie, she recognized the delusion at its core. Her actions didn’t denote consideration, they revealed her insecurity.

If he ate upstairs, she wouldn’t have to face him in the shop with memories of their good-night kiss zinging through the air between them. None of her customers even knew she had married. What would they think if Zacharias Hamilton entered the shop from the kitchen instead of the front door? Her cheeks would fire hotter than her ovens.

Better to have Brother Samuelson announce their newly wedded state at church tomorrow. Then everyone would know, and Zach could stroll into the shop from whichever direction he liked.

Of course, that did nothing to solve the problem of how she was supposed to act around him. Logic dictated that he was the same person he’d always been, so she should carry on as she had in the past. Unfortunately, rational thought failed to keep her heart from palpitating whenever she saw him . . . or heard his voice . . . or even just thought about him. It was a wonder she had only spoiled one batch of muffins this morning instead of all five.

Marriage to a man with a penchant for kissing was proving to be a trial. Maybe the newness would wear off in a few days, and she would regain control of her mind. At the moment, her husband held it hostage.

Was he in the sitting room enjoying his breakfast, or had he already left through the alley to head for the lumberyard? Would he leave without telling her good-bye? Did she want him to tell her good-bye?

Oh, for pity’s sake. Get your head back in the bakery where it belongs. Abigail bit the inside of her cheek as she focused on the customer standing at the counter. Had she asked for one croissant or two? Sometimes the schoolmarm bought a second pastry to have for lunch, but Abigail couldn’t recall what she’d said. Her hand hovered over the croissant shelf, so hopefully she had at least that much correct.

Abigail placed one croissant on the square of butcher paper on the counter, then decided to admit her distraction. “I’m sorry, Miss Eider. Did you ask for one or two?”

The teacher offered a friendly smile. “Just one today, thank you.”

Praise God for kind patrons. Abigail returned her smile as she wrapped the pastry in paper and handed it over. Just as Miss Eider dropped a pair of copper coins into Abigail’s palm, the bakery door flew open, jangling the bell with enough force to cause every customer to turn and look.