Page 36 of Merlot Marriage

“Only if you promise not to run away and wake up Sydney,” I growl, desperate to let her go so I can relieve the pressure on my spine, but not wanting to let her escape and claim the couch.

No one is sleeping on the couch tonight if I have anything to say about it.

Ophie makes a few more attempts to escape before giving up. “Fine. But we’re never going to mention it again.” She collapses against me, and I let her slide off me. “Sorry.”

“For farting on me? Or for being human?” I can’t help it. I’ve only heard her fart once before, and I don’t think she knows. Besides, reminding Ophie that she’s a mere mortal is one of my favorite games.

“Ugh!” Red spreads across her cheeks before she covers her face with her hands, shaking her head. “Can you please let it go? It was not on purpose.”

I want to let her squirm for another moment, but the curve of her neck is so tempting that it’s only a few seconds before I break the silence. Leaning in close, I let my lips and nose trace the soft skin behind her ear and the back of her neck. “I barely even noticed.”

She shivers as my lips pass over the bumps of her spine. “Philip…”

“Forget about it. I already have.” I press my lips to her warm skin and watch the goose bumps rise in my wake. “I’ll move outto Sunshine tomorrow. And it sounds like you’re getting new roommates soon. I think we better make the most of our last night, don’t you?”

She twists to look at me over her shoulder. “But…the bed? And Sydney’s right there.”

I press a kiss to her shoulder. “I can be quiet. Can you?”

Ophie

Somehow, Maggie and Imanaged to live together for years without me hearing her have sex in the other room. But she and Kel have been here less than two days, and I’ve already heard them three times.

Who knew being pregnant made you so horny? At least it’s a great reminder for me not to test that theory for myself.

I roll over and grab my earbuds off the nightstand, stuffing them into my ears and flipping open Netflix on my phone to the first thing I see, hoping to stop the noise.

Thank god I had enough time to buy a new metal bed frame to replace the one Philip and I broke last week. And wash the sheets.

When sleep evades me, I pull out my laptop to see if any new magical job opportunities opened while I was sleeping. I scroll through half a dozen before one catches my eye. A start-up is looking for a shipping coordinator and project manager—it’s anunusual combination and exactly what I’m looking for. A little internet sleuthing reveals they’ve just gotten venture capital funding, even more exciting. It’s a marketplace for women-owned small businesses that helps them build their website storefronts and coordinates packaging and shipping for them. The more I read, the more excited I get about the opportunity. And it looks like the position would get to build the shipping and project management processes from scratch.

It’s as if someone designed my dream job. Except for one thing—the position is in South Carolina. And there’s no mention of it being remote.

I never considered leaving the West Coast. My family is here. Philip is here—for now. My life is here.

But the opportunity seems too good to pass up, even though I’m sure there are dozens of people more qualified than me applying. I take my time drafting a cover letter and fine-tuning my resume before submitting it, despite knowing it’ll probably get fed to an algorithm and dropped to the bottom of a pile in thirty seconds.

I finally doze off again to the sounds of David Attenborough describing the cycle of life on prehistoric Earth, dreaming of the pastries I brought home with me after closing last night. The sun is blazing through my window when I open my eyes again, even though it’s still early.

Thank god I have a couple hours before I need to get up and get ready for work.

Maggie is at her usual spot at the table, working on her laptop, when I emerge. Her keys click in a familiar cadence, one I’ve missed since she moved in with Kel.

“What’s the story, Morning Glory?” A yawn interrupts my question as I pad across the floor to the kitchen.

“There’s coffee in the pot. I think. And I hid your Danish in the microwave to keep it safe from Kel.” She doesn’t look up from her screen but points vaguely behind her.

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

“I’m the soul of consideration.”

The coffee pot is still hot, so I pour myself a blessed mugful. “You weren’t at three o’clock this morning.” Leaning over, I pop open the microwave to check that the paper bag with my Danish is still there.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She grins at me over the edge of her mug, takes a sip, then grimaces and holds out her mug. “If there’s any left, can you top me off?”

I grab the carafe and move to refill her mug. “Is this going to be a long-term solution to your commute? Should I invest in some soundproofing?”

The microwave beeps before she answers, and I busy myself with getting my warm pastry on a plate, then join her at the table. “Seriously though, are you really going to keep living out at Sunshine? Aren’t you both going to end up commuting into the city every day? That seems like a pain.”

---