Page 101 of The Marriage Narrative
“Are you listening to me?” Zinnia’s concerned tone lured him back to her. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed Grace and Fiona had left the table.
They were at a Cirque du Soleil–style dinner theater—a semi-interactive live production in a permanent spiegeltent. She’d found it online and shared it with him. He’d surprised her with four tickets instead of two.
“Nope. I’m sorry,” he said.
“Are you okay?”
Seeing her never failed to knock him senseless. No thoughts, head empty. Erratically skipped heartbeats. How did he even have breath left to steal at this point?
But that wasn’t what she’d meant.
“Yeah. Just thinking about…stuff.”
“Do you want to talk about it? Seems important.”
One more dinner. One more good sabbatical night. “I’ll tell you later,” he promised.
Zinnia bumped his knee under the table—he moved back to give her better access to him. She accepted the invitation, situating herself between his legs. Warm hands on his thighs. Eyes searching his face.
“Do you mean it or are you only saying that to shut me up?”
“Hmm, definitely the former.” He leaned forward, draping one arm across the back of her chair.
“You have something on your face. Hold still.” She brushedhis cheek with gentle swipes before cupping his jaw and tracing his bottom lip with her thumb, all the while wielding a mischievous smile. “Much better.”
Pride and lust sinned their way up and down his lowly human body. He’d taught her that move.
They were sitting on the second level, where she’d be able to see the entire stage and audience to have the best viewing experience. Sandwiched between a wall and still-vacant tables, he palmed her knee before sliding his hand up her thigh and under her dress.
He’d been so anxious about kissing her again, dying to but also afraid she’d figure him out. It’d be impossible to hide how truly in love he was. And when she asked, because she would, he’d have to tell her the truth. His honesty vow demanded nothing less.
But they’d blown straight past that obstacle. So far, so good. His secret was safe.
Her breath hitched when he traced the line of her panties with his thumb.“Jordan,”she whispered.
“What?” He grinned when she gripped his wrist. “We’re mostly alone.”
She checked around, beautifully breathless and needing to be sure. “In public? Really?”
“Sometimes.”
He loved how fearlessly she asked questions. Or better yet, when she took initiative. It reminded him of how they had started at the estate. Organically figuring out their next steps together—what they liked, what they didn’t, what they wanted to try, all in real time.
“This might be a little too much for me.” She removed his hand, raised it to her lips, and kissed his palm. “How about in the car?”
Heat surged through him, every muscle tightening in anticipation. “You know I love to compromise.”
He stiffened as she suddenly cupped his crotch. Like a magician, she’d hypnotized him with her mouth by kissing his fingertips, so he didn’t notice her hands.
She wasn’t in love with him, but fuck, shewantedhim.
“Excuse me, I’m so sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if we could take a picture with you?” a voice asked.
Jordan’s heart seized as Zinnia’s eyes widened—she slid her chair away from his and they both turned around.
“No,” Grace snapped while beside them. “I’m not my sister. She’s not here.”
A young girl with curly hair began wilting on the spot while her friend said, “Oh shit. Grace.” They profusely apologized, backing away.
