Page 49 of The Marriage Narrative
“How does standing like this make you feel?”
Already back in character, she held his gaze head-on, eyes alight with yearning again. “Close.Veryclose.”
“Uncomfortable?”
Zinnia slowly shook her head as yearning gave way to smoldering. She angled her body to be closer to him, silently daring him to make another move. “Do your worst. I can handle it.”
Shit. He didn’t anticipate her being such a quick study. “Trust me, you can’t. Not yet.”
“I do,” she said. “Trust you, I mean. That’s how I know I can.”
All he’d ever wanted.
“Let’s keep it easy for now. Scale of one to ten: How much do you like holding hands?”
She held up and wiggled five fingers. “My other hand is busy.”
“Hugging?”
“Depends.” She pouted, lower lip sticking out as she thought about it. “Do you give good hugs?”
“Would you like to find out? No time like the present.”
Jordan held perfectly still while her arms circled his waist, palms flat against his back. She leaned into him, face near his neck. Her breath fanned out against his skin and his eyes fluttered against his will, senses and nerves finally past their breaking points.
Thank god she didn’t see how weak she made him. How easily he folded like a lawn chair as soon as he had her in his arms.
Feeling her deep inhale as she breathed him in and hearing her exhale a soft, contented sigh was a twisted reminder that this was all he’d ever have.
“I’m sorry I ruined everything on our wedding day.”
“We’re past that,” she said earnestly.
“I’m sorry.”
Sorry for failing her. Sorry for himself. Sorry for already seeing exactly where he was headed.
She pulled back. Whatever she saw on his face made her look into his eyes and say, “Ten.”
Chapter 14
Jordan
Weekend schedules weretypically more flexible. His parents didn’t have to work their outside jobs, so in fairness neither did the kids. That was the general idea anyway.
For his schedule, he chose to sentence his brother to hard labor in the garden.
“Zinnia won’t notice them there.” Wylie pointed to a spot that had the best mix of sun and shade, directly behind the bench in the pocket forest. “If we plant them along the shrubs, they’ll be in front of her no matter where she’s sitting.”
“Your gift, your call.” Jordan handed him a spade.
Their mom had spent thousands on landscaping only for her sons to come fuck it up with an apology. Wylie’s idea was a little on the nose, but he’d always been extremely literal like that. At the plant nursery, he’d only picked white and lime-green potted flowers.
“You’re really not going to help me?”
“Nope.”
“Whatever.” Wylie pulled off his hoodie and tossed it to the ground.
