Page 46 of Puck, Marry, Thrill

Then he looked up.

Jamie was still watching them, her expression unreadable—but her eyes were soft, shining, and for just a second, he let himself hope.

He was madly in love with his wife.

Heaven help him, he had itbad.

12

JAMIE

Jamie sat curledup on the corner of the couch, the worn blanket Kenneth always insisted she use tucked around her legs like a cocoon. The late afternoon light filtered through the curtains, golden and soft, casting a gentle glow across the living room. In her hands, her phone felt warm from constant use; the screen smudged with fingerprints as she scrolled slowly, almost reverently, through the photos she’d taken that morning.

Her thumb paused mid-swipe, her breath catching when she reachedthatpicture.

Kenneth stood with his back to the camera, his broad shoulders filling the entire frame in that snug, navy-blue hockey jersey. His last name stretched boldly across his shoulder blades, the number beneath it crisp and perfect. But it wasn’t just him that made the photo strike her right in the chest—it was Zachary, perched happily on his father's shoulders, tiny arms wrapped securely around Kenneth’s head, his cheek pressed against the top of his dad’s head in pure, innocent joy.

Those little jeans from The Children’s Place—how many times had she picked those exact pants out of the laundry basket? How many mornings had she smiled at those wiggly little buns as she wrangled her son into them, always on the go, always full of life? The cuteness of it—the contrast between Kenneth’s powerful frame and Zachary’s tiny body—was nearly too much.

And the name.Theirname.Hisname.

Her family.

A smile tugged at her lips, soft at first, then full-blown as emotion welled up and nearly spilled over. She held the phone tighter— like the image might dissolve if she didn’t cling to it with both hands. It wasn’t just a picture—it was a portrait of everything she hadn’t dared hope for.

Priceless.

Jamie blinked hard, swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. She had to admit, no matter how fast everything had happened—how suddenly their lives had merged—Kenneth had shown up in ways that mattered— In the ways that counted. He didn’t just say things to pacify her; heprovedthem with action. With effort. With quiet, everyday care that spoke louder than grand gestures ever could.

He hadn’t barged into her life, demanding space. He’d gently made room for himself—like sunlight filtering into a dark room, warming the cold corners she thought were beyond thawing. He didn’t try to fix her or change her. He simplysawher—and it undid her.

There were“How can I help you?”moments—soft, sincere offerings that made her feel like she wasn’t alone in the world anymore. He never swooped in with a savior complex. He stood beside her, offering his hand but never pulling her forward unless she asked.

There were“I value you”moments—words said without flourish, spoken like truths he’d always known. Little things, like the way he listened to her opinions or the way he’d pause before making decisions, glancing her way as if needing her insight.

And then, there were the“Let me take care of you”moments. Moments that stripped her bare—not physically, but emotionally and spiritually. He handled her like something delicate, not because he thought she was weak, but because he understood how much she’d been dropped in the past.

Jamie remembered the guy she’d dated once—one of those smug, low-effort men who made her feel like she was in the way. Like she had to apologize for needing anything at all. Three dates in, she saw the pattern wasn’t an accident. He didn’t want a partner; he wanted someone to manage. And she’d walked away without regret.

Kenneth had a pattern, too. But his was one of reverence. Admiration. Encouragement. He made her feel like a work of art he got to hold—not own—and that difference mattered.

And the more he gave? The more Jamie wanted to rattle him. Push his buttons in the best ways. Tease him until his cheeks went pink, and his hands trembled with how much he wanted her. Not out of cruelty but because shesawhim too. And he loved being seen.

He’d try to protest, his voice all fluster and logic, but he never pulled away. He leaned in. He craved it—and she gave it with a wicked grin and a heart full of affection.

She’d taken“lady in the street, hussy between the sheets”to a whole new level, and he adored her for it. Their marriage wasn’t built on wild passion for the sake of it. It was an intimacy rooted in trust. Vulnerability. A desire to pour love into every crack they each had.

She showed him—over and over again—that her affection wasn’t a phase. It was a choice. A declaration. A whisper in the dark. She proved it in every sultry text, every lingering look across the room, every mischievous whisper in his ear when no one else was listening.

Jamie loved his mind. His quiet strength. His loyalty. She loved his heart, tender and open in a way the world rarely saw. And yes, she loved the rest of him, too—with devotion, with glee, with every breath she had to give.

And he? He let her.

And that… that was everything.

Her thoughts halted as Kenneth peered around the kitchen wall to look at her, smiling. “Hot tea?”

“Yes, please,” she replied and then started. “Actually,” she began again, hesitating as she moved to help him, “I’ll make it if you want to…”

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