: Chapter 9

It was finally Monday, the opening day I’d been waiting such a long time for, and now that it had arrived, I didn’t know how to contain my happiness or my anxiousness. One minute I was on the verge of hyperventilating just thinking about opening the doors enough that Owen and Sally had to force me to sit down, and the next minute I couldn’t stay still and felt like I was about to burst from happiness. Mostly, though, I was feeling sick to my stomach, worrying everything was going to go wrong and everyone was going to hate everything.

What if no one showed up? That had been the first thing I’d thought the moment I had opened my eyes that morning. What if no one walked in? My goal was to at least serve fifty coffees on the first day. That sounded like a fairly doable number.

“I feel like I’m about to lose my virginity,” I blurted out as Sally pushed a glass of water into my hands.

“Was it a good experience? Mine was pretty cool.”

“I mean, it was okay. No orgasms in sight, but at least it didn’t hurt much.” Owen grumbled something I couldn’t make out. “What did you say?”

“This place looks legit,” Sally said, ignoring him. “What you did with the flower thing is still blowing my mind. It looks so beautiful with the black exterior. The furniture, the colors—everything came together so nicely. You put out the flyers too. We’ll easily reach fifty coffees.”

When Sally left me and went to the kitchen, I got up from one of the chairs they had basically pushed me into, walked to the door to flip the closed sign to open, and just rested my forehead on the cool glass for a few seconds. Flipping that sign felt like I’d welcomed an elephant to come sit on my chest. People passed by. I even saw some of them stare at the roses as they walked by, but no one pushed each other out of the way to get in.

“Okay.” I sighed. “Now all we have to do is wait.” When I turned around, both Sally and Owen were standing in the doorway to the kitchen, Owen wiping his hands on a kitchen towel and Sally smiling and munching on a lemon bar. Taking the last bite, she walked up to the espresso machine.

“Would you like to have the very first latte of the day? I’ve been polishing my latte art skills.”

I let out a deep breath and smiled. “You know what, that’s a great idea. In fact, lattes all around, on me. We might need to drink forty-seven more today, but that’s not all that much, right? Death by caffeine is a real issue, but I’m sure we’ll be safe.”

We clinked our mugs together, at least Sally and I did and hoped for the best for the rest of the day. The first customer came thirty minutes after I’d flipped the sign from closed to open. Owen was in the back, but Sally and I were ready with our overly excited smiles plastered on our faces.

An hour or so had passed and we had a few more customers. Sally was preparing a second cup of cappuccino for the customer who’d come in earlier as she was looking through the food selection on the counter. She’d already had her free blueberry muffin, so she decided on a sandwich this time.

I grabbed a plate, lifted the glass dome, and picked up a turkey & swiss that was wrapped with parchment paper and secured with red twine. The bell on the top of the door rang, but I was busy taking payment so I couldn’t look away. After giving her the change and thanking her, I finally looked to my left, excited to greet a new customer.

And right there…right there standing with the most uncomfortable look on his face was Jack Hawthorne. I didn’t think I’d ever been that happy to see him before, but him being there so early, him just being there… The smile that broke out on my face was embarrassing.

“Jack, you came,” I managed to say softly, and even though he couldn’t hear me, his gaze dropped to my lips.

Before he could walk in farther, Raymond came in with an armful of roses and handed them to an unhappy Jack. My breath hitched and my smile brightened up a bit, taking it from embarrassing to a touch closer to manic. Jack’s expression, however, didn’t change.

Were they for me?

I begged my heart to stay calm as he walked toward me.

“There was a mix-up at the flower shop, and they couldn’t bring these themselves,” he said, and my smile faltered.

“I don’t understand. They’re from a flower shop?” I asked, my eyes going from the roses to Jack’s face in confusion.

His lips tightened and his brows drew together. “No.”

I waited. I could feel Sally standing just behind me, on my right, too.

Jack released a frustrated sigh. “They’re from me. You don’t have to use the fake stuff on the tables. It’s so the property looks good. That’s all.” He leaned forward and thrust the bouquet into my hands.

Feeling something weird and very much unexpected in my chest, I took them. There were maybe fifty or sixty long stemmed roses in every color—pink, white, yellow, peach—and they were all wrapped up in slightly shimmery brown paper. They were gorgeous, way more than what I would need for the tables, way more than anyone had ever bought me. Flowers would add no value to the property; that was plain and simple bullshit. These were for me.

I was still looking at the roses, taking them all in one by one, not sure what to say or how to say it, when I saw Owen put another plate of freshly baked blueberry muffins to my left. He whistled next to me, his shoulder barely touching mine.

“These are just for me,” I mumbled, almost to myself. “And they’re so beautiful, Jack. Thank you.” For some reason, I felt myself choke up, and my chest constricted. Hugging the bouquet with one arm, I pressed my palm against my chest where my heart was truly losing it. Sally cleared her throat, and I briefly glanced at her to see her raised brows and the expectant look on her face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I should introduce you guys. Sally, Owen, this is Jack. Jack, Sally and Owen.” My attention was still on the roses when I heard Jack’s gravelly voice as he introduced himself.

“Rose’s husband,” he said, extending his hand first to Sally and then to Owen. Goose bumps covered my arms, both because of the tone of his voice and the word itself. Husband. My husband.

“Yes, sorry. Jack is my husband.”

“Husband?” Sally blurted out in a slightly raised voice. “You’re married? You never said anything!” She grabbed my hand and inspected my naked ring finger. “No ring?”

I inwardly winced and sent an apologetic look Jack’s way, but he had his hands in his pockets and his eyes were on the food, his expression completely unreadable as always.

Sally was looking between Jack and me in bafflement.

“I took it off before I started baking. It’s in my bag. With everything going on, I forgot to put it back on.”

I was explaining it to Sally, but my eyes stayed on Jack the entire time. He looked up, and I offered him a small smile.

“It’s so beautiful,” I said, turning my gaze to Sally. “I keep taking it off when I’m working here because I don’t want to lose it. That’s why you didn’t see it before.”

“I need to get back. Congratulations on the marriage, Rose. Nice to meet you, Jack,” Owen said before giving my shoulder a quick soft squeeze and disappearing into the kitchen. Sally just stood there.

I looked up at Jack, he was staring at Owen’s back with a clenched jaw, but he averted his eyes before I could try to tell what he was thinking. Forcing myself out of this weird guilty feeling, I asked, “Would you like something to drink? Or eat?”

“Yes. I want fifteen…I don’t know, espressos, lattes, or just black coffee—whatever you recommend.”

“Fifteen?”

Finally, he looked at me. “I’ll take it to the office.”

“Do you have a big meeting or something?”

“No.”

Just one word, that one word… He was putting in a coffee order that big because he wanted to help me—again.

“Oh, Jack, you don’t have to do that.” This time I could feel the tears blurring my eyesight. It was going to happen. The edges of my lips started to tilt down, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stop it. “I’m going to hug you,” I blurted out.

A line etched between his brows and his eyes finally came back to me. “What?”

Gently, I put the flowers down on the counter and walked toward the end so I could make it to the other side through the small opening. Before he could process it and quite possibly stop me, I closed my eyes and threw my arms around his neck, rising up on my tippy toes. To be fair, my movements had been slow. I’d given him time—enough time to stop me if he really wanted to.

But he didn’t.

After the initial second or two, his arms came around me and he returned the embrace. I rested my temple on his shoulder, drew in his wonderful and dizzying smell and whispered, “Thank you, Jack, for everything. For the coffee shop, all the help, the flowers, the coffee order—everything. Thank you so much.” The tears made their way down my cheeks, and I slid my hands down from his neck and stopped when my palms met the lapels of his charcoal grey suit jacket. His arms dropped so he could push my hair away from my face and tuck it behind my ear. A shiver worked its way through my spine and I couldn’t move away from him.

When his eyes landed on my face, his jaw was clenched, and I had no idea what was going through his mind. I just looked at his face, taking in his features, my favorite blue eyes and straight full lips. Still not a smile in sight. I dropped back to my soles and wiped my tears with the back of my hand. I looked around the coffee shop to the three tables that were occupied. No one was looking at us, and even Sally had her back turned our way.

I smiled at him, a big happy smile. “Okay. If you’re sure you want that many, we’ll get started on them for you.”

His eyes stayed on me. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure, Rose.”

My smile widened. “Of course you are. Okay.” Walking around the counter, I asked, “Do you know what anyone drinks or are we just making a mix of everything?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what they drink.”

“Right. Okay, we’ll do a few different things. How do you want yours?”

“Just…black with a splash of milk, if you can.”

I picked up my flowers, smiling. “Of course I can. I’ll collect all the vases and change out the artificial flowers with these after you leave. I love them. Thank you, Jack. You have no idea what this means to me.”

He cleared his throat but didn’t say anything. I helped Sally and we did a mix of everything: a few macchiatos, a few lattes, four black coffees, and two matcha lattes, just in case someone preferred that. When Sally started on the extra black coffee, I gently took over. It wasn’t that it required any extra attention, but I wanted to be the one who prepared Jack’s coffee. When the whole order was ready, I started packing the free muffins and lemon bars. “These are free,” I explained without looking at Jack. “For the first day, I’m giving everyone a lemon bar or a muffin, whatever they prefer.”

“You don’t have to—” he started, but I was already closing the box.

“They’re free, and you will take them. Otherwise I’m not giving you your coffee. Don’t argue with me.”

“The roses look great on the door,” he said after a moment, and I looked at him.

“Really?”

“How did you put it up?”

“I did it this morning, with Owen’s help.”

His face hardened a little for some reason. “I woke up early to see if there was anything I could help you with, but I guess I missed you. When did you leave?”

“Around five, I think.”

“How did you get here that early?”

Confused, I gave him a brief look over my shoulder and started on making another quick coffee. “Like I always do—I walked through Central Park.”

“On your own.”

“Well, yeah. That’s how I get here. I won’t come in that early every day, but it was the first day, so…”

We fell silent as I finished the second cup I was preparing.

“Everything is ready to go, Rose,” Sally said, sliding four bags toward me on the counter.

“Okay. Thank you, Sally. Just one more second, Jack. I hope I’m not making you late.”

“It’s fine,” he muttered as a new customer walked in and started to look at the food and ask Sally questions. I welcomed the newcomer and put the lids on the two coffee cups I had prepared myself, grabbed two small paper bags that had our logo on the front, and quickly put two lemon bars inside each one along with an extra chocolate muffin in one of them. “Okay. We can go,” I announced, smiling at Jack.

He held out a credit card to me between two fingers. “I hope you don’t forget to ask for payment from all your customers.”

“My husband gets a free pass,” I pointed out softly as we stared at each other and I ignored the credit card. Sally walked behind me toward the espresso machine. “Ready to go?” I asked Jack.

“Rose, I’m not taking anything if I’m not paying for it.”

My smile started to melt off my face as he spoke.

“It’s your first day—if you start giving away free coffee to everyone you know on the first day, you won’t have this coffee shop for very long.” There went the rest of my smile. “I wouldn’t have ordered so many if I’d thought you weren’t going to accept payment for it.”

He extended the credit card farther forward and I reluctantly took it.

Before pushing in the amount, I glanced up at him. “I’m not taking payment for your coffee, Jack. I’m…just not.”

We had a short-lived but intense staring match where I came out as the winner. “Okay. Okay, that’s fine,” he agreed. “I didn’t mean to make you upset, Rose.”

“It’s okay.”

I handed him the four bags and the card. Then I took the two coffee cups and the extra small bag myself. “Be careful not to tip the cups,” I warned as Jack glanced inside the bags. “I’ll be right back, Sally!”

I followed him out to the curb where Raymond was waiting. He rushed out as soon as he saw us coming with our hands full. He opened the door for Jack and waited.

“You should put the bags on the floor, Jack, keep them between your feet so they don’t make a mess in the car.” Jack leaned down and arranged everything carefully as I turned to Raymond. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how you take your coffee, but I made you what I made for Jack, black with a splash of milk, and if you want, there are sugar packets in the bag too.” I handed him the cup and the small paper bag. “And there is a lemon bar in this. I made it myself. It’s good.”

“Thank you, Rose, and congratulations on your new place. It looks amazing.”

It was the first time he’d called me Rose. “Thank you so much, Raymond, and you’re welcome.” I beamed after him as he walked back to the driver’s side.

“And these are yours,” I said as I handed my husband the other coffee cup and paper bag, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. “I put a lemon bar and a chocolate muffin in yours because I wasn’t sure what you liked, but if you don’t like —”

“You made the muffin, too?” he asked, peeking into the bag.

“No, Owen baked the muffins. I made the lemon bars and the sandwiches. He is…” Did I need to give him an explanation? He hadn’t asked, but I felt like I wanted to. “Owen, I mean, he’s my friend. Barely even a friend. We worked at this café two years ago and talked every now and then after that. So, I just wanted you to know. He is just a friend.”

“I don’t need an explanation about your friends, Rose.”

Despite his harsh answer, I thought I saw his shoulders relax a fraction. I could live with that.

“Okay.” Not sure what to do with my hands, I just stood there.

“Did anyone unwanted show up today?”

I arched a brow. “Anyone unwanted? You mean like Bryan? No, he didn’t. Neither did Jodi.”

“Good. I had a quick talk with him. He won’t bother you again.”

“What? When?”

“After he showed up here. It doesn’t matter now.”

He had a coffee cup in one hand and the bag in the other. With his tailored suit and that I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing here look on his face, he looked so…so grumpy and adorable that I couldn’t stop myself from giving him another hug.

Since his hands were full, he couldn’t do anything but stiffen this time. Before I realized what I was doing, I found myself pressing a hand on his cheek and kissing him on the other side, surprised by my sudden act, I lingered. When I let go of him and backed up, he was looking straight into my eyes. I flushed but managed a smile. “Thank you, for the flowers and the coffee order. That you’d even think of buying coffee for your work friends—and they’re not even your friends—and only because it’s my first day…it means so much to me.”

“I’m not doing it for you.”

“You keep telling yourself that. You’re hating it all the way, but you’re starting to get used to me.” When his steady gaze became too unsettling to return, I gave him a weird wave, mumbled something like, “Have a good day at work,” then rushed back into the coffee shop.

My cheeks slightly flushed—maybe from the cold outside, or maybe because of Jack’s gaze on me—I made it back to Sally’s side. When the thing that was fluttering wildly inside my chest became too much to ignore, I looked back outside to see Jack standing on the curb and looking inside.

Had I really just kissed him and lingered? And then run away like a school girl?

I thought my cheeks flushed even more, so to forget all about it, I started to collect all the little vases on the tables, took my roses into the kitchen, and started on making my coffee shop even more lively and beautiful with a big, permanent smile on my face.

When the clock hit seven PM, I was drained. I was happy, but the excitement had gotten to me. Owen had left right after lunch when he was done with his work, and Sally had left just half an hour ago. We had sold well over fifty cups of coffee, crushing my goals. It’d been just a bit over the one hundred mark, actually.

A knock on the door made me stop what I was doing, which was getting the last few bits of baked goods into containers and then in the fridge. I’d dimmed the lights in the coffee shop right after Sally left and had flipped the open sign to closed, as well as locking up. Holding the doorframe, I peeked toward the door. When I saw Jack standing in the rain, I put the brownie plate down and ran to the front of the coffee shop.

“Jack, what are you doing here?” I asked as soon as I opened the door. “It’s raining.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

I took a deep breath to keep myself from rolling my eyes at him. “You should’ve called from the car so I could open the door for you.”

“I did, actually, but you didn’t answer.”

I winced and just stood in front of him, not sure what to do now that he was standing right in front of me and we were alone. “I’m sorry, it’s in my bag. I haven’t checked it the entire day. But, still, I didn’t expect to see you here.” I watched him as he ran his hand through his wet hair, somehow making it look like the rain had styled it for him—whereas the minute I stepped out into that rain, I knew I was going to look like a drowned rat.

“Right, because it’s not like I’m here every night,” he said before looking around the shop. Apparently that was all the explanation he was ready to give. “Are you going to let me in, or do you want me to stay out in the cold?”

“Oh, shoot, come in. Sorry.” I opened the door wider and he stepped in. “Since you came in this morning, I thought maybe you’d skip the pickup today.” I smiled as he brushed off the rain from the arms of his coat.

“Looks like I didn’t.” I just stared at him. “Ready to leave?” he asked, eyes coming back to me.

“You’re really gonna make me ask?”

Distractedly, he kept brushing rain off of his coat as his forehead creased. “Ask me what?”

I raised my brows. “The coffee, the lemon bar? Did everyone like it? More importantly, did you even eat it? Did you like it?”

I waited with bated breath, which was stupid. Almost all the customers had commented on how much they’d loved everything—the space, the coffee, the food, the roses outside. Even so, hearing what Jack thought felt important. I cared.

He finally stopped messing with his coat and took a good look at me. “Everyone loved it.”

“That’s all you’re going to give me? Are you being serious?”

The creases on his forehead got deeper. “I’m always being serious.”

I laughed. “Yes, yes you are. I think you loved it, but you’re just too proud to say it out loud.” I didn’t give him an opportunity to answer. “Do you mind sitting and waiting for a few minutes? I need to do a few more things in the kitchen, but after that we can leave. I can make you a coffee for while you wait?” My eyes still on him, I started backing away toward the kitchen.

With his coat still on, he pulled up the closest chair and sat down, his eyes on me. “I’m good. You go take care of whatever you need to take care of.”

I gave him another overly bright smile and disappeared through the doorway. Grabbing the brownie plate from the counter, I raised my voice so he could hear me.

“Did you have a good day?”

I stopped transferring the brownies and waited for his answer.

“It was fine,” he said finally. “Busy and long, as usual. Fred wanted me to congratulate you on his behalf.”

“Oh? That’s so nice of him.”

I waited another few seconds and when the follow-up question didn’t come, I answered it for myself. “Mine was good. Thank you so much for asking. It was just like yours, actually—busy and long.” I paused for a second. “Ah, thank you so much, Jack. I hope it becomes a usual thing, too. You’re so right.”

Another quiet few seconds, and then his delicious voice came from very close.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

No, not delicious—it wasn’t delicious as in delicious, but it felt like it was delicious as it touched my skin. It was just a normal male voice, nothing to get excited about, just a little thick and rumbly and smooth at the same time.

I knew exactly where he was, but I still looked to where he was leaning against the doorframe. His coat was off, but he was wearing his suit jacket, hands in the pockets of his pants. Maybe it was for the better that there would be no forearm porn today, because if that had happened, I wasn’t sure how I would react anymore.

“Just talking to you.”

“You mean to yourself.”

“No, I mean to you. I really enjoy talking to you.”

He stared at me boldly and I fell into the blue trap.

“Can I help you in here?” he asked.

For some reason, I flushed. It was a pretty small space for two people. Sure, I worked with Owen just fine, but we baked across from each other and I wasn’t attracted to him at all. I couldn’t exactly keep Jack at arm’s length when we were carrying pastries to the fridge.

“Nope. I’m good.” I mean, it wasn’t the first time he had offered his help, and if he did help, he would actually…but…no. No, skipping the forearm porn was the smart choice here. Definitely. “Just a few more things I need to…ah…do, then I’m ready. If you have somewhere else to be, I don’t want to make you wait. I’ll be done in—”

He crossed his arms, his shoulder still holding him up against the doorframe. “No. I’m good right here, too.”

I didn’t even attempt to stop the smile growing on my face, and to be honest, that weird sense of pleasure his words had caused was completely uncalled for. I bit my lower lip just to stop my mouth from curving up. Considering I hadn’t even stolen one genuine smile from him, I was giving mine away too easily for my liking. When the brownies were done, I grabbed my cheeks and pushed them in. “I’ve been smiling so much today, my cheeks are hurting.”

“How good was it?”

“Hmm?” I mumbled distractedly, keeping my eyes on the last few brownies.

“How good was your day? Still happy?”

He was making small talk. Granted, I’d already answered the question, but he was making small talk without me having to prompt him. The itch to grin and lose my cool was growing with every freely offered word out of his mouth.

On my way to the fridge, my eyes cut to him and I brushed my bangs away from my forehead with the back of my arm. “I’m exhausted, as you can probably tell from how I look, but it’s the good kind of exhaustion. I’m still over the moon, still a little high on it.” I reached for the remaining two chocolate chip cookies and put them in another container.

“I was going to ask if you would like to go out for dinner tonight, but I don’t think you’d make it through, especially if you still feel like you’re high on it.”

“That actually would’ve been nice, but I agree with you.” I held my arms out and looked down at myself. “Probably not the best night to be out in public anyway.”

“What are you talking about? You still look just as you did this morning.”

I tried to hide my wince, but I wasn’t sure how successful I was. “Welllll, that’s not saying much.”

“Actually, it is,” he muttered, but before I could ask what he meant, he straightened from the doorway and started walking toward me. I focused on my hands, which were reaching for the last two lemon bars with the tongs. I grabbed one of them, put it in a small container, and was in the process of grabbing the other one when Jack’s chest brushed my shoulder.

I stopped breathing. My body pretty much stayed still, but my eyes were moving. He wasn’t so much pushing me, but he was leaning on me enough that his chest was brushing my shoulder—his broad and warm and inviting chest.

“Can I have that?” he murmured in the vicinity of my ear, not too close, but closer than I expected him to stand.

I cleared my throat so I would be able to sound serious and normal like him. “Can you have what?”

“The last lemon bar.”

That had me looking over my shoulder and…what a bad, bad idea. Our eyes met and I kinda got stuck on his steady and expectant ocean blues. Then I looked at his lips because they were right there, so full. In my defense, I was looking so I could catch his next words, but they didn’t come.

“Hmm? Oh? You liked it then?” I forced my eyes back to his and extended the tongs toward him. He took it. “Would you like a plate?” He met my eyes again and just shook his head. I faced forward. What is happening? “I didn’t think they would almost completely disappear by the end of the day, even though they were free.”

“They are good enough to come back for every day, Rose.” Before I could process those words and at the same time try not to analyze them to bits too much, he continued, “Will you bake more tomorrow?”

“I can make you a batch at the apartment, if you want,” I offered as I started to just push things around randomly, hoping to keep the conversation going.

“I don’t mind coming here.”

Finally, I turned to face him, leaning my hip against the counter. If I just leaned a little forward, I could fall into him, so easily.

“Just for the flowers you brought this morning, you earned free lemon bars for an entire week.”

He bit into his treat, already halfway done with it, and nodded.

Forcing myself to look away from him because I had no idea what was wrong with me that suddenly I was having trouble just looking away, I started to put everything in the fridge.

I came back for the last container. “We can leave in a minute.”

My right hand was gripping the edge of the island when his fingertip touched my ring finger. I froze.

“You’re finally wearing your ring,” he murmured, and my eyes closed on their own.

Is he getting closer?

I focused on my breathing as he picked up my hand and played with the ring, moving it right to left, right to left, just as he had done on our wedding day. I might have swayed, I might have bit my lip, I might have shivered. I have no recollection of what I did, but I knew I was teetering on the edge of something.

“I put it on after you left,” I whispered, my hand still in his. Then he gently put it down on the island again.

“Good.”

I forced my eyes open but didn’t look up at him. I was still feeling the ghost of his touch on my skin.

“Ready to leave?”

I nodded. “Mhmm.” I put the last container away and quietly got ready, my eyes safely away from him.

However, it didn’t escape my notice that my movements were getting more sluggish by the minute. The adrenaline was leaving my body, and pretty quickly, too.

As I took one last look at the coffee shop before I locked it down for the night, I felt immense pleasure knowing I’d get to come back the next day and do it all over again.

Thinking about Jack and the business deal between us, I went down the other road, too, the ex-fiancé road: Joshua Landon. I was a little surprised with myself that I wasn’t thinking of him more. We’d had good days. In the beginning. He had swept me off my feet. He’d been perfect; said everything I didn’t even know I needed him to say, acted as if I was his world and slowly won me over when I wasn’t interested in something serious. After I’d said yes to his proposal things had started to change. He had started to change. If we’d married, if he hadn’t disappeared on me after breaking the engagement over a stupid text, would I have had this? Would he have dropped by every day after work to help me? I didn’t think so. I’d been with Joshua for a whole year and I couldn’t remember a time he’d gone out of his way to help me with something—unless, that is, he wanted something in return. I hadn’t needed his help; I didn’t even remember ever asking for his help. That wasn’t the issue, though. I hadn’t needed Jack’s help either. I hadn’t asked for his help, yet he’d been there anyway, day after day.

For the first time, I didn’t say a word in the car, didn’t try to engage Jack in small talk as Raymond drove us back to the apartment. He ordered Chinese and I went up to take a quick shower before it was delivered. When the doorbell rang, I was coming down the stairs. By the time he paid and closed the door, I was standing next to him. I took one of the bags and we headed toward the kitchen.

“You’re quiet tonight. You barely even said anything in the car.” I only realized how hungry I was when the delicious smells coming from the containers had my stomach growling. A little embarrassed, I stepped away from him to put some distance between us and opened the fridge to take out two water bottles.

“I have a little headache,” I mumbled. The fact that I had a headache wasn’t a lie in itself, but something else was wrong. I had no idea what had happened, but I was feeling even more awkward next to him than I had before that day. Maybe it was the lingering kiss or the multiple hugs or maybe it was the thought of Joshua.

His eyes cut to mine, but I avoided his gaze as he took down two plates and we started to spoon out a little of everything.

“Rice?”

I nodded, and he dumped some on my plate. Then, grabbing both our plates, he walked straight out of the kitchen. “Let’s eat at the table. I’m tired of sitting at the kitchen island alone.”

Wordlessly, I followed him and stood in the doorway as he stopped next to the dining table. I watched him put down our plates, pull out a chair, and look at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Will you join me?”

As a kid who had taken most of her meals in the kitchen, a dining room table always reminded me of one thing.

Family.

Which I’d never had.

I walked toward him and sat down as he pushed my chair forward.

He sat across from me, reaching for his chopsticks.

I was staring straight into his deep blues.

Shaking my head, I got up and just as I was going to walk past him, his hand gently curled around my wrist, his thumb gently sweeping up and down, effectively stopping my forward movement. My words got stuck in my throat and I just stared down at him, at his eyes.

“Rose.” He spoke softly, as if he was talking to a kid. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

“I forgot the water.”

Deeply conscious of the way his presence and his hand on my skin were making me feel, I waited for him to let go of me. It took a few seconds, but when he did, I almost ran to the kitchen.

Back in my seat, keeping my hands under the table, I rubbed my wrist, trying to get rid of the weird tingles.

The silence and familiarity calmed me down, and I realized it was normal now, being with him, like this. We were just two strangers who had gotten married for the wrong reasons sitting at a big, ten-person dining table, and it felt normal and good.

As soon as my plate was cleared, I rose, and Jack pushed up to his feet with me even though he wasn’t done yet.

“You’re going?” he asked, something that sounded very similar to disappointment in his voice.

“I…should go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be another long day. I’ve been getting these little headaches recently, so it would be better, I think, if…”

“I understand.”

I took my plate and again tried to walk past him, but he touched me again.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“I can—”

“Rose. Go away. Get some rest.”

I gave him a smile. Exactly when had my name become so…so effective in making me break out into goose bumps?

I felt the ghost of his touch and the warmth of his fingers on my skin almost up until I fell asleep.

The number of times Jack Hawthorne smiled: not even a single one.