Page 54 of Merlot Marriage

“I saw you looking at flights to Australia. I panicked.”

Philip chuckles, the rumble of his chest vibrating against my back. “Youwere the one who came home from work and walked naked into my room.” His fingertips trail over my side, lighting my skin on fire.

I squirm, thighs rubbing together to relieve the ache building between them. “You started it.” He was the one who kissed me inthe restaurant, making me question everything I’d ever assumed about how he felt.

The one whose accidental kiss left me feeling empowered. I wasn’t the one who changed everything. He was.

Except maybe I was. Maybe every time there was a hint that he might drift away, I’d held on tighter. Given him another reason to stay.

“By spitting toothpaste in your face? I didn’t realize you were into that kind of kink.” He chuckles as he presses open-mouth kisses along the back of my neck.

“No, when you kissed me in the restaurant. I couldn’t stop thinking about what it meant.”

Philip chuckles again. “After you loudly claimed me as your husband.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off.

“But maybe I did push it a bit.” He trails his lips and tongue along my naked shoulder. “Maybe I took advantage of the situation to see what you would do if I nudged us over the line.”

I lie there while he peppers kisses along my shoulder and back. If I’m really the one who started it all, who took the first step over the line toward this moment, then Philip has matched me step for step. And so what? All the energy I’ve spent worrying about keeping things the same, and never once did I see that I was the one who kept pulling us down the path.

That every decision I made out of my fear of losing him and our status quo tangled our lives together even more.

“Even if it is all my fault.” I finally break the silence. “What happens now?”

“We prepare for everyone to give us shit for a week or so, and then they’ll be over it. And then we live our life.”

“Our life? I like that.” When he puts it like that, it feels like maybe I was worried over nothing. But then I snort, imagining how my sisters are going to react. “Maybe more like a month.”

Philip’s laughter vibrates against my back. “Cassie is going to gloat for at least a year.”

We rank how long our friends and family are going to give us a hard time for finally admitting our feelings—his family is going to be the easier of the two by far—before Philip’s stomach rumbles so loudly that neither of us can ignore it.

This time, cooking in Jackie and Greg’s kitchen fills me with a sense of rightness. As if we’re on our honeymoon, not hiding away from my sister and her fiancé.

“So, how are you enjoying your job as a pseudo-sommelier?” I ask, slicing up a cucumber.

Philip looks up from his phone, leaning his elbows on the counter to study me. “Actually, I like it more than I thought. Nate was explaining to me some of the different ways they bring in revenue, and it’s pretty interesting.”

He tells me about the rootstock they grow and sell but loses me somewhere between the Italian and French grapes that were devastated by something called phylloxera and German blue slate. I nod and let his voice wash over me as I revel in the peace I feel.

The nagging question of what he’s thinking is gone. When I look at him now, I don’t see a question or a source of anxiety. I see a man who always includes me, who asks for my opinion, who draws me out of my shell and gives me the courage to be myself with more than just him.

No judgment.

No eye rolling when I get excited about a particularly satisfying pivot table.

Someone who enthusiastically jumps on board with whatever I suggest—and asks the same of me.

“We could go anywhere.” I interrupt his detailed monologue about how long it takes the grapes to go from vine to cask during harvest.

“…to harvest grapes? Not really, liefling, we have to be between thirty and fifty degrees latitude.”

Shaking my head, I scrape the peppers I finished slicing into the salad bowl. “No, silly. I mean that we could go anywhere. You and me. I could get a job in South Carolina—” I almost choke on the guilt that pushes the name out of my mouth. I’ll explain while we eat, I promise myself as I cover up my hesitation with more nonsense. “Or you could get a job in—”

“Singapore? Omaha? But what about your family? Your friends?”

“We could visit.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. Ever since Penny emailed me, I haven’t stopped thinking about what it would mean to move away from the PNW. “I mean, Singapore is kind of far, but you know what I mean. Besides”—I point at him with the tongs in my hand—“yourfamily is on that side of the world. But the point is, if we’re going to do this—be really for real married. And a couple. Well, what’s to stop us from going somewhere together?”

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