: Chapter 23

It had been two months and twenty-five days since my surgery, and it was a Friday.

So, we had finally reached the end of three months. Some days I’d thought we’d never get to see the day, and I’d told Jack exactly that. I’d never in my life told another guy I wanted to have sex with them as much as I’d told Jack. In the beginning, I had thought my constant pressure was affecting him and he’d soon fold, but nope. Jack was nothing if not in control of his emotions.

He had slept right next to me every night without me having to ask for it again. If I went to bed earlier than him, he always found his way into my bed, but he hadn’t touched me the way I was dying for him to touch me again. He said no and nothing else.

I came back down to earth when Sally snapped her fingers in front of my face.

“Are you here?”

“Yes. Yes, sorry. I just got distracted. What were you saying about Owen again?”

Owen was currently in the kitchen so there was no way for him to hear us, but Sally still leaned in closer. “I think he likes me.”

“I thought he wasn’t talking to you.”

“Technically he isn’t.”

I laughed. “Your logic scares me sometimes.”

A couple walked in hand in hand so we had to break up our little gossip bubble. Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure if it had been a good idea to give the go-ahead to Sally about Owen. I kinda felt sorry for him.

As I got the orders of the newcomers and cut two pieces of apple pie for them, Sally prepared one cappuccino and one macchiato. They picked up their orders and sat down at the last table available in the left part of the coffee shop.

“I’m thinking of getting two or three more tables. Most days we barely have any space left, and I think we can easily squeeze in three more—one more on this side, maybe even two, and another two on the other side.”

Sally leaned her elbows on the counter, humming. “I think you’re right. Ever since that blogger posted about us on Instagram, we’ve started getting even more customers, and even if they don’t come in, they keep taking photos outside the front door.”

Right then the bell chimed and our heads turned that way.

“Jack!” I called out, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, and he paused in the doorway. Half of the customers who didn’t have their earbuds in turned to look at me.

Ignoring Sally’s snort and chuckle, I gave the customers an apologetic smile and rushed to Jack’s side as he closed the door and met me halfway. I was half running, half trying to appear like I wasn’t running at all, and he was just walking, in no hurry.

“What’s going on?” he asked with an arched eyebrow and a suspicious look around the coffee shop. Even that look and that lifted brow turned me on. To be honest, lately, everything Jack did turned me on. He’d give me a look, a strong look that said he didn’t find me amusing at all, and I’d become a puddle on the ground. It was becoming a thing for me.

“Come, come.” I reached for his hand and when he linked our fingers together, my smile turned up a notch, making me look like an idiot. I didn’t mind it at all.

“Hello, Sally,” Jack said as I took him behind the counter.

Still with that knowing grin on her face, Sally waved at him. She thought I’d scored with Jack. I thought so too.

“He’s going to steal me for a few minutes,” I told Sally then pulled him to the back.

“Who said I wanted to steal you?” Jack murmured into my ear, amused. I barely managed to stop a shiver.

“I’m saying it because you should want to steal me—all the time, regularly. Just a friendly reminder from a wife to a husband.”

Owen looked up from the paper he was scribbling on and straightened up. “Hey, man.”

Jack nodded and they formally shook hands. For some reason, he hadn’t warmed up to Owen yet.

I leaned against Jack’s arm, our hands still tightly clasped. “Can he have a minute alone with me, Owen? I told him a million times that it’s not appropriate in the coffee shop, but he just looks at me…” I peered up at Jack and looked at his frowny face with a happy heart. “Just like that. You see that frown? So yeah, I can’t resist him when he is glowering at me. Plus, Sally might need help if someone comes in.”

Owen didn’t even blink at my statement. “Yeah, sure.” He picked up the paper he was working on—another list.

“Why don’t you like Owen?” I asked once he was out of earshot.

“Who said I didn’t like him?”

“I do. You barely say a word to him.”

“He gets to spend entire days with you in here.”

“So?”

“I don’t,” he grumbled, leaning down, his mouth entirely too close to mine.

“Jack?” I whispered, my nose bumping his.

“Hmm.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. Let’s go crazy in the back—we have to after that comment.”

He straightened up, taking that beautiful mouth away and giving me a blank look. “No.”

I pulled Jack forward and stopped with my back against the island.

“At least give me a lift up, or is that too much touching for you?”

His lips twitching, he shook his head. “Always ordering me around,” he murmured as he put his hands around my waist. I had instant goose bumps when he lifted me up on the island, and I pulled him between my legs.

My hands grabbing the lapels of his jacket, I pulled him closer and pressed my forehead against his. “Hi. How are you? I missed you.”

His hands squeezed my waist once, moving down to my hips, sliding me an inch or two forward. “You saw me a few hours ago when I dropped you off this morning.”

“I know. It’s been ages.” He gave me that precious smile I couldn’t get enough of and my own lips mirrored his. “And you’re supposed to say you missed me too. That’s what husbands say.”

He hummed, and the warm sound traveled all over my body. “Is that what I’m supposed to say?” His hand made its way down my thigh and he unwrapped my leg from his waist, which I hadn’t even realized I had placed there…kind of. His face softened and he cupped my cheek. “You look a little tired.”

I scooted forward a bit to make up for the unwrapping. I wanted to be as close as possible. “You know how much I love it when you compliment me on how good I look. Tell me more.”

He pulled back and gave me a pointed look that pretty much said he wasn’t having it.

I hauled him back. “I’m fine. I promise I sit down before I get dizzy, and I’m sitting right now too. I haven’t baked a thing either. Would you like to know what else good husbands do?”

“Good husbands,” he mumbled, his hands moving up and down on my back. I did my best not to squirm.

“They kiss their wives when they see them.”

“They do?”

“Yeah. I’m told it’s a tradition.”

He licked his lips, and because I was trying to fuse myself to him, his tongue touched my lips too. Letting go of his jacket before I could wrinkle it too much, I wrapped my arms around his neck, already having trouble remembering how to breathe like a normal person.

“Good thing I’m not your real husband then,” Jack said.

My mouth dropped open and I let go of him, feigning shock. “Jack Hawthorne, did you just make a joke?”

“Smartass,” he muttered with a smile, his eyes dancing. It seemed I was making him happy. Every time he smiled it loosened something in me.

“You may kiss me now,” I whispered, ready for it, desperate and impatient for it, and then he finally did so. I quickly wrapped my arms back around him again and gladly returned his kiss. Unfortunately, he put a stop to it in no time.

“Hello, my beautiful wife,” he whispered, and I felt a little better since he was out of breath too. It wasn’t just me who was affected.

I heard the bell chime and more chatter trickled into our private little bubble. We weren’t alone, though I kept forgetting that when he was around.

“That’s slightly better,” I commented, my hands on his shoulders.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“I’m buying new tables,” I announced instead of responding to his question.

He frowned. “What?”

“New tables—we need them. We’re always full and we have the space too, so I’m buying new tables.” I smiled widely. “Yay!”

“That’s good, baby, but—”

That word, that baby—hearing it for the first time from his lips caused a full body shiver. It was something about his voice that just added to the endearment. I’d never even considered that I would love to be called baby, but this…this specific one coming from this specific guy, it stopped me in my tracks. I could’ve spent the rest of my life just being called baby by Jack Hawthorne.

“Hmmm,” I moaned in the hopes of distracting him. I leaned in and nuzzled his nose with my own, whispering against his lips, “Should I even let you know how much I love your voice? Or the way my name sounds when it comes from your lips?” I gently kissed his top lip then his lower lip, and then I went in for a deeper kiss, searching for his tongue. “That baby just about killed me, Jack.”

“You’re trying to distract me,” he muttered, and I smiled because it was exactly what I was doing and it was working perfectly. I tilted my head to the side and took a big breath before going in again.

No one had ever kissed me like Jack Hawthorne did, and I didn’t think I ever wanted to find out if there was anyone else out there who could.

“Why would I do that?” I whispered, my lips still touching his. I bit my lip. “Don’t get angry, I’m not saying we should act on it, but I really want you, Jack. Just so you know.”

I felt his smile against my mouth and then his warm chuckle. The sound made my heart sigh in happiness.

“Really? I had no idea. You only say and text it every day, a couple times a day.”

“And you never say it, or text it, or do it.”

“Because I can control myself.”

I kissed him again, taking it slow, coaxing him. “You’re very good at that.”

He smiled into our kiss, nipping at my lips.

I leaned forward until my lips were right next to his ear. “But I want to hear you say you want me. Tell me you want me, Jack. At least give me that much.”

I drew back and looked into his eyes. I could see the sparkle in his beautiful deep blues.

“You think I don’t want you?”

Keeping my eyes on his, I slowly shrugged. His jaw clenched and he looked toward the doorway where I could hear Sally steaming milk and Owen talking to a customer. I didn’t care about where we were, not really, not when I was with Jack. Whenever he was around me, I felt like I was on top of the world, and the fact that he always brushed me off because he was genuinely worried about my health only intensified my need for him. I didn’t think he was indifferent at all, but I liked pushing him. I especially liked watching his eyes flare up every time I told him I wanted him.

“You make me forget my name when you kiss me,” he whispered into my ear. “Wanting you is all I’ve been doing, and when I finally fuck you like I’ve wanted to—”

Every time he said fuck with that rough voice of his, my eyes fluttered closed on their own. Before I could learn what was going to happen when I was finally fucked by my husband, Sally walked in on us.

“Rose, do you think you could—oh, I’m sorry. Sorry. Ah, I’ll wait out here.”

I rested my head on Jack’s shoulder and groaned.

He cleared his throat and tilted my chin up. “We need to be at the hospital in an hour.”

“But I thought today—”

He arched an eyebrow. “I reminded you just this morning, before you ran out of the car, so don’t try to act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. They scheduled your MRI and your antibiotic shot for today. We need to be there in an hour.”

I cupped his face with both my hands. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I loved him, and I didn’t even know where the thought had come from. I knew I was falling for him, but I hadn’t realized I was already there. “Okay. All jokes aside, I love that you’re taking care of me,” I said seriously. “I’ve never had that before. I’m sorry if I’m pushing you too much. You know I never really had family, but you—”

He kissed me, a quick and hard and fierce kiss. “What am I? Chopped liver? You could never push me too much. Don’t ever stop pushing me.”

I smiled and let him put me down back on my feet. “I’ll go see what Sally wants and then I’ll get my bag so we can leave.”

“I’m sorry, Rose.”

Something in his voice made me turn back to him. “Sorry? For what?”

“I know you don’t want the MRI, but they need to see if everything looks okay. I need to know if everything is okay.”

I walked back to him and rose up on my toes so I could press what was my version of a quick and hard kiss on his lips, and I melted a little when he put his hand on the small of my back and pulled me against his body.

“You’ll stay with me again?”

“Always.”

“Then it’ll be okay. I know I’m being stupid about it. It helps that you’ll be there when it’s over to carry me away.”

The car ride was fun, and I tried my best to look as if I wasn’t freaking out about the fact that I was going back in that casket again. We sat hand in hand the entire time, and Jack even made a comment or two about Raymond’s love life when we were having a very serious talk on that very subject. Too bad I was too anxious to enjoy it all.

But then the MRI scan…it was no better than the first time. Even though I was required to lie on my back this time, they still put the cage thing on my head, and this time around I got much dizzier than the first time. I had to keep my eyes closed the entire time as I tried to focus only on Jack’s touch on my ankle. As soon as they took me out and I got rid of the thing on my head, he carried me off to the small room, and just like the previous time, he let me cry on him for a good two minutes. The last time I’d done that, we hadn’t been real. This time, we were, and it made me feel better because he kissed every drop of my tears away, stealing more pieces of my heart in the process.

“Where do you want me to take you?” Jack asked once we were back in the car.

The needle part hadn’t been fun either; it had hurt like hell, which you could easily tell from my ashen face and the hand I kept pressing on my arm. Since my brain had been kind of exposed with the tear, preventing infection was important. That’d been what they kept telling me, so I knew there was no way to get out of it—not that I had tried to get out of it or anything. I’d never.

“Rose?”

This time, we weren’t sitting so close.

I looked at him. “Home. I want to go home. I’ll text Sally and Owen. I don’t feel like I’d be any help there, and I don’t want to bring the energy down.”

“Okay,” he said simply and then told Raymond where to take us.

Back in the building, Jack said hello to Steve and asked him how he was doing. I couldn’t help it—I cracked my first post-MRI smile. To think I’d been the one to tell him what his own doorman’s name was.

“How is the kid doing?” I asked, wrapping my arm around Jack’s and standing in front of Steve.

“She’s good, back at the new school.”

“No more problems I hope.”

“So far it’s been okay.”

“That’s good.”

Steve’s daughter, Bella, was this beautiful and smart fifteen-year-old who had been bullied at her old school and ended up changing schools midyear.

“Please tell her I’m looking forward to seeing her again.”

“She’ll love hearing that. She adores you.”

Even though I had heard about her situation from the heartbroken Steve and obviously already knew some about her, we’d only met twice when she had come to visit her father for a few hours. We’d bonded over our love of baking and rain, of all things, because it had been pouring in New York both days. We’d come up with over twenty-five reasons why we loved rain and rainy days when I had wandered down from Jack’s apartment because I’d been bored out of my mind just sitting, sitting, sitting.

Jack had found me on the floor with Bella and had taken me back upstairs because it was ‘cold’ and I wasn’t healthy enough to sit my ass on cold floors. That had been original, especially hearing the word ass coming from his mouth.

“And I adore her. She is a smart cookie. If it’s okay with you, I’d love it if she could come to my coffee shop. Maybe we could bake together if she feels up to it? Then I’d bring her back here, of course.”

“You don’t have to do that. I know how busy you are.”

“Of course I don’t have to do it. I want to. We’ll bake and spend a few hours together. It’ll be fun.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hawthorne. She’ll love that.”

Back in the elevator, Jack was the first to break our silence. “Does he call you Mrs. Hawthorne every time you talk or is it just my presence that changes things?”

I gave him a sheepish grin and he just shook his head. “I like the sound of it, though.”

“The sound of what?”

“Mrs. Hawthorne. I like it when you say it too.”

The doors opened to his floor before he could respond, and we walked into the apartment.

All I wanted to do was go upstairs, take a shower so I could feel like a normal human being again, and take a long, long nap. So, that’s what I decided to go ahead and do. I took off my shoes next to the door and headed straight for the stairs.

“I’ll jump in the shower and just try to get myself back together.” I turned around and started walking backward, my eyes on Jack. “Would you like to join me?”

“Rose.”

One word, my name, which had gained a new meaning lately. It meant no.

“I meant for cleaning purposes only, but suit yourself, buddy. Do you have work to do? You came to the hospital with me and now you’re here so I’m guessing you need to catch up with things because of me.”

“I’ll be in my office.”

“Okay. I’ll come bug you as soon as I’m done.” Waving at him, I finally turned back around and trotted up the stairs.

“Rose?”

I looked down at Jack, my husband who was in fact not my husband, who had held my ankle during the entire MRI scan and then wrapped me in his arms while whispering that I was okay, that we were okay again and again in the privacy of a little hospital room. I didn’t think he understood how much it meant to me. It was getting harder and harder with each passing day to hold myself back and not tell him what I was feeling for him, what I had been feeling for him for quite a while now.

“Yes?”

“You’re good.”

It wasn’t a question. I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or not, either. He wanted me to be good, so I’d be good, for him, so he’d feel good.

I gave him a small smile. “Never better.”

“You should try harder—it doesn’t seem to be working.”

My smile got bigger and I saluted him, disappearing from his sight.

There was a small knock on my door before it cracked open. “Rose?”

“If you don’t want to have sex with me don’t come in,” I warned the only person who could be knocking on my door.

Despite my warning, he opened it and stood there in all his glory. Same suit, same everything, face and frown and all.

I stood there in my thankfully matching sky blue bra and panties. I was standing with the towel in my hands, and I kept standing there as his hungry eyes took in every inch of my half-naked body. I had hips, but I liked them. I liked that there was a curve to me, a curve that loved the touch of his hands. While my boobs weren’t anything too spectacular, Jack didn’t seem to agree. I’d never been happier to have almost C cups as I’d been when I’d caught his eyes on them a time or two. In any case, we stood just like that, him in the doorway with eyes glued to me, me in the middle of the room with my body heating. I didn’t think anyone would describe me as shy, but I felt a touch of heat on my cheeks when the seconds ticked by and Jack didn’t say anything.

“Hi?” I managed to croak out.

His eyes snapped to me and his jaw hardened, making him even hotter. I truly loved it when his face turned all prickly and frustrated and angry and arrogant and heated and hungry and annoyed and all the things. “Hi,” he forced out.

Gulping, I brought the towel I had been using to dry my hair to my front and somewhat tried to conceal my nakedness. It wouldn’t help much with anything because it was only a little bigger than a hand towel.

“How can I help you?” I groaned on the inside. Me being horny was all the doctor’s fault. I’d never in my life asked any of my boyfriends if they were in the mood to have sex, let alone begged someone to have sex with me as much as I’d begged Jack.

There was something about him. Maybe if we had done it once, I would have stopped thinking and talking about it all the time. Maybe he’d be excruciatingly bad—but I knew he wouldn’t be. I knew what he’d do to me, and I couldn’t wait.

“Are you free for dinner?” His voice was still tight, as was his grip on the door handle, and that was a question I hadn’t heard in a while.

“I’ll have to check my schedule.”

I didn’t move. Then I smiled, making my way to him. It wasn’t a seductive smile or anything like that; I wasn’t trying to be sexy at all. I honestly wouldn’t have known how or what to do to begin to seduce a guy like Jack. I’d imagine for a guy like him to be impressed, you’d have to pull out all the stops, maybe do a light striptease as you were walking toward him and then just go for it. Or, what would be even better…you’d be so spectacular that he’d just couldn’t stop himself and go for you.

He hadn’t gone for me, hence why I kept mentioning it. Basically I was trying to seduce him by badgering him on the subject and hoped he’d get frustrated enough to actually do it just to have me shut up, because I figured that worked too.

I stopped in front of him, looking up at him and smiling. “I checked.”

He arched an eyebrow, his eyes not even dipping to my boobs once. I didn’t find that reassuring at all. “And?”

“I’m free. I’m free every day.”

“Finally. Get ready. We’re going out on a date.”

As soon as he got those words out, he took a step back and slammed the door in my face. I stared at the door in shock then broke into happy laughter.

I opened the door to see his retreating back.

“Our first official date?” I yelled after him before he could get to the stairs.

“Yes,” he yelled back, his voice angry. A shiver worked through my body.

“Where are we going? Can I ask?”

“No.”

“Where are you going? Can I at least ask that?” I was lucky he wasn’t looking back because my face was sporting the most ridiculous smile in the world.

“Out,” he snapped, making his way downstairs.

“Out? Where are you going? What about our date?”

He paused on the last step and finally looked at me. I was hanging from the rail, still in my underwear, face flushed and happy.

His gaze was piercing. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

“But why are you leaving?”

“Because you’re pushing me.”

My mouth dropped open.

“I’m pushing you?” I took a step down the stairs. “I didn’t say a thing.”

“Don’t come down here, Rose.”

I paused.

“I’m pushing you?” I started again. “How about you coming into my room and staring at me like that?”

“How did I—never mind. I’m waiting for you downstairs. I don’t trust you.”

I started laughing in earnest, so happy, happy, happy. I caught his lip twitch.

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

“Okay. Promise I won’t be long. You can keep Steve company.”

“Yes. How did I not think of that? I’ll just go do that.”

When I couldn’t see him anymore, I shouted after him from my perch on the stairs. “What should I wear? What kind of date is it?”

“It’s a date—what else do you need to know? And I don’t care what you wear as long as you cover yourself up, neck to toe.”

I did exactly that. I wore a black dress that wasn’t too flashy. Short sleeves, open V neck, a relaxed fabric that gently hugged both my boobs and my hips and ended four or five inches above my knees. I roughly dried my thick hair and straightened my bangs because I wasn’t interested in getting a cold from walking out the door with wet hair on a snowy New York night. I did my makeup, focusing heavily on the eyes. I wore my thick black coat and wrapped my scarf around my neck, also donning my black leather gloves. Grabbing my cream ribbed beret from the top shelf of my closet, I put it on my head and walked out of the apartment in a hurry. I couldn’t exactly run yet because of my brain and nose thing, but I came close to it.

My heart jumping in my chest and my tummy filled with those excited butterflies, I felt like I was going out on my first ever date with a boy I’d had a crush on for years. It was a strange feeling being so excited about a simple date, but this was Jack Hawthorne, my pretend husband who knew how to kiss me exactly the right way. How could I not have been excited?

When the elevator doors opened, I forced myself to take smaller steps just in case Jack was waiting for me in the lobby. He wasn’t. I stopped in front of Steve.

“How do I look?”

He smiled at me and I beamed back at him. “As beautiful as ever.”

“Maybe I should tone down the happy a little?”

He let out a roar of laughter. “Don’t ever tone down the happy, Rose. It suits you well.”

I melted a little at his words. “You’re the best, Steve.”

He inclined his head. “So? What’s the special occasion?”

“My husband is taking me out for a date,” I said proudly.

“Lucky lady. That’s as special as it gets.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“Mr. Hawthorne said he’ll be waiting for you outside.”

“Okay.” I ran my gloved hands down my coat now that there was some unexpected nervousness trickling in. “Thank you, Steve. I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll be right here. Have fun.”

Saying a quick goodbye to the kind doorman who had become my friend, I walked out onto the street. It had started snowing again, adding to the snow- and slush-covered sidewalks. I looked up at the skies and closed my eyes, little snowflakes melting on my face, tickling me. I smiled. I felt so giddy and free. I looked around to find Jack and he was right there, on the left side of the building. He leaned against his car, right next to Raymond, studying me.

My heart soared at the sight of him, as it always did lately, and I truly felt like I hadn’t ever felt any happier in my life. I couldn’t help myself—I ran to his side just as he became alert and straightened up. He said something to Raymond and after nodding at Jack, Raymond opened his door and got into the driver’s seat, leaving Jack to me.

I stopped right in front of him, just a tad out of breath.

He pushed my bangs out of my eyes, the tips of his fingers gently trailing the contours of my face. “You aren’t supposed to run, Rose.”

I moved my head up and down, and he sighed as I grinned. “So?”

“What am I gonna do with you?”

I shrugged. “Keep me?”

He reached for my beret and fixed it on my head then, with his hands cupping my face, he leaned down and kissed me. His hands were warm on my cheeks, his lips even warmer and more addictive. I grabbed his wrists to hold him there just a little longer. When we’d had a taste of each other, not enough of a taste but a small sample, he pulled back and looked into my eyes.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he said with all the seriousness in the world.

And I think I love you, I wanted to say, but instead I gave him my biggest smile.

His laughter was everything to me. My eyes and heart warmed just looking at him.

He was all mine.

“Get in the car.”

I repeated his own words back to him: “Always ordering me around.”

He gave me a blank look with an arched eyebrow and I smiled sweetly. He opened the door and slid in right after me. I rarely sat on the other end anymore. Usually, he wanted me to be right next to him, and what do you know, so did I. At that moment, my thigh was resting against his. We were sitting that close, and I couldn’t have been any happier.

I shivered a little once he closed the door, and I ran my hands up and down my arms. “It’s really cold tonight.”

One at a time, he picked up my gloved hands and rubbed them between his own.

Oh, I really wanted to keep him.

The car ride didn’t take long, and when we were dropped off in front of the cutest little Italian restaurant, I was pleasantly surprised. To be honest, I hadn’t been looking forward to heading to a crowded, fancy place. This place, however, was anything but fancy. Jack had my hand in his as we walked down two steps to enter the restaurant. All the cute little tables had those red checkered tablecloths, every table that was occupied had two small candles burning on it, and I couldn’t wait to get my own candles. Jack talked to the woman who came forward to greet us, and she took us to one of the tables right in front of the big window. At the table right next to us sat a grandpa and his grandson, and they were biting into their first slices of pizza.

I could hear my stomach growling. I took off my gloves first then my beret and my scarf, and then finally my coat. Jack was in the process of pulling my chair back when he stopped moving. I pressed my lips flat and tried to keep in my smile. He cleared his throat and came unstuck. I sat down, and he took his spot across from me.

He looked at me for a long moment before he let out a long breath. “You take my breath away, Rose Hawthorne.”

Whoosh—there went my own breath. That was as real and as perfect as it got. “Is this one of those times?”

“Yes.”

Clearing my throat, I leaned my elbows on the table and rested my head on my hands. “That’s a good start. Keep going.”

He smiled then his eyes slowly dropped to my boobs.

Finally!

“I thought I told you to cover yourself up, head to toe.”

“And I listened to you,” I agreed easily. “I wore my coat, my scarf, my gloves, my beret. I wore everything I could wear.”

“Nice try,” he countered, shaking his head. “It’s freezing out there—you’re gonna get sick.”

“I won’t. It’s all cozy and warm and perfect in here.”

A kid who barely looked sixteen dropped off our menus, cutting into our conversation. I dropped my elbows from the table and started checking out the options. The kid next to us was chattering away and making his grandpa laugh, and it just lifted my mood even more. I looked up from the menu and around the restaurant, noticing the other few customers, and I realized we were extremely overdressed.

I leaned in toward Jack, and he looked at me quizzically. “Come here,” I whispered.

“Why?”

He looked so suspicious and adorable in a grumpy way that I had to laugh. “Just lean in closer.”

He did so carefully.

“I think we’re a bit overdressed.”

His shoulders relaxed before he looked around, and I had to bite my lip to hold in my laughter. Did he think I’d jump on him?

“I like it though,” I continued before he had a chance to say anything, and his eyes came back to me. “I feel special. I know this isn’t your usual type of place at all, so I appreciate that you’re doing this for me even more. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Rose. It’s as much for me as it is for you, and it’s just dinner. It doesn’t matter where we are as long as we’re together.”

“Ah, you just killed me, and that’s true. That’s really true.”

“I’m still glad you approve.”

“Yes, you did well. You might get lucky. Eventually.”

Another head shake as he put his menu down. “You don’t give up, do you?”

I groaned and hid my face behind my hands. “It’s not me, I promise. It’s the doctor.”

“What do you mean it’s the doctor?” He reached out and pulled my hands down as if he couldn’t not have eyes on my face—at least that was what I liked to think.

“I do want you, I’m not gonna lie about that, but I’m not like this. I’m never like this. This is only happening because he said…” Looking at the grandpa and grandson next to me, I whispered, “It’s because he said I can’t have sex. Now I want all the sex. You can’t tell me I can’t do something. Then all I wanna do is…well, it. It’s the allure of the forbidden. You’re not like that?”

“You either want something or you don’t. What does what other people say have anything to do with it?”

I leaned back. “Of course you’d say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I waved my hand in the air. “You’re…you. You’re very disciplined. I don’t think anyone or anything can affect you. Like you love to say, you can control yourself.”

“You affect me.”

I smiled. It was a slow and happy one. “You affect me too.”

“So, correct me if I’m wrong: if the doctor had said it’s okay to have sex, you—”

“Jack!” I snapped, reaching across to put my hand over his mouth.

“What?” he muttered.

Tilting my head to the side, I gestured to the duo sitting next to us with my eyes.

Jack looked up and sighed. I supposed it was his version of asking for deliverance.

“Just skip the word, but keep going,” I prompted as I sat back down.

“If he had said it was okay to…do it, you wouldn’t be asking me to do it every day?”

“Well, I imagine I’d still want you, but I’m not sure I’d say it out loud, and definitely not this much. Two months after the surgery…well, since then I’m extremely…whatever.” Feeling my face flush, I pressed the back of my hand to my cheek.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just a little hot in here.”

“Finish your sentence.”

We locked eyes and I managed to hold his intense gaze for a whopping ten seconds.

“Horny,” I said, my voice frustrated and maybe a little louder than I was anticipating. “Horny,” I repeated, more to myself this time.

The hostess, the girl who had walked us to our table, came back. “Hi. Welcome again. What can I get you folks?”

Jack and I were still staring at each other, and I didn’t want to be the first one to break eye contact. It was him doing stuff like this that was making me fall for him more and more. His intense gaze managed to touch all sorts of places, and when he was looking at me like that, I lost my mind a little.

“Hi,” I said brightly, and Jack finally moved his gaze to the girl. I sighed in relief and slumped in my seat. I’d just told him I was horny. Nice choice of word, for sure.

“You want to share a pizza or are you going with pasta?”

I quickly returned back to the world. “Pizza.”

“What do you want on—”

“Mushrooms,” I blurted out. “And maybe artichokes too.”

“That’s it?”

“No, you add something too. What do you want?”

“Pepperoni. You’ll have water?”

I nodded and let him finish our order then, just as the girl left after promising to get our drinks ASAP, my gaze caught on an empty booth toward the back.

“Did you hear anything from your cousins?”

When I gave him a confused look, he continued.

“About your surgery. Did they call you to check on you?”

“No. I’m not even sure if I want to hear from them. I’m surprised that Bryan never showed up again though. Did he call you? I feel like he gave up too easily.”

“No.”

Because I wanted tonight to be just about us, I changed the subject and didn’t think too much about his angry expression.

Pointing with my finger at the booth in the back, I waited for him to follow my direction.

“Yes…that’s a table, I believe.”

“Ha ha.” Giving him a pointedly blank look, I ignored his dry comment. “Can we sit there?”

“You don’t like it here?”

“No. No, I do, but a booth…I don’t know, it feels more intimate.”

Jack caught the attention of the girl as she was bringing a soda to the cute little kid next to us and then helped me out of my seat and carried my coat. The touch of his hand on the small of my back practically seared me through my dress. I got in first and scooted.

Instead of sitting next to me as I had assumed he would and wanted him to do, he went to sit across from me again.

“What are you doing?” I asked, perplexed.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Jack, you’re gonna sit here.” I patted the seat next to me. “That’s why I wanted a booth.”

“To sit next to me,” he echoed.

I nodded slowly.

“We could’ve moved our chairs closer to each other.”

“It’s not the same thing. Come on. Move.”

“No touching, Rose. I’m serious. Do not drive me crazy in public.”

Hearing that I had any kind of power over him was exhilarating. Happy and excited, I laughed and raised my hands. “No touching—got it. Come on, I won’t bite. I promise.”

And what do you know…as soon as he settled next to me, he reached for my hand and tightly clasped it in his, playing with my ring the entire time. He was the one who couldn’t stop touching me, and I loved every second of it. We talked for hours in that little Italian restaurant, accompanied by some romantic Italian tunes. If Jack wasn’t touching my face, he was holding my hand. If he wasn’t holding my hand, he was offering me bites of pizza as I chattered away at him. When he wasn’t making me laugh with his dry comments, he was resting our linked hands on his leg. When I wasn’t smiling or laughing, I was melting.

He also kissed me. I didn’t know why I was surprised, but he kissed me so many times. Every time he leaned forward and I felt his lips moving against mine, asking for entrance, my heart lost its steady rhythm and I felt excitement bubbling up inside me, the kind of excitement you don’t know how to hold in, an excess of happiness. I loved it. I completely fell for him on our first date.

It was the most perfect first date I’d ever had in my life.

My husband was perfect. With all his arrogance and prickliness, Jack Hawthorne was perfect for me.

He wasn’t what I’d had in mind or even what I’d wanted for myself, but he was perfect and already mine, truly mine. There was no doubt of that in my mind.