Page 96 of The Marriage Narrative
He placed the box back on the shelf. Without missing a beat, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. They pushed the cart together toward checkout.
On their way out of the store, they were stopped by an energetic voice asking, “Would you like to buy some cookies to support our school play?”
Jordan swiveled the cart in front of their table. “I absolutely would. What do you have?” He listened attentively while the little kids in their adorable school uniforms pitched him each kind and pointed out their favorites.
Lovingly made home-baked goods these were not, because they also had an artisan candy catalog for special orders.
He already had his wallet out. “I’ll take two of everything.”
Zinnia laughed as they began jumping up and down and screeching in that way only children could.
“You all gave an excellent sales pitch. Consider me an investor—I need to try them all,” he said while also handing a business card to their pink-haired chaperone. An open invitation to set up a booth in front of Tantivy any time.
Fiona sometimes joked about how thinking with her ovaries always got her in trouble. Key word beingjoke.
Zinnia had no idea, until that very second, it was an actual affliction. Jordan being so supportive and generous when he didn’t have to be sent her spiraling straight into desire’s obsessive clutches. She felt like a screw being overturned—each rotation bringing her closer and closer to stripping.
“Ready?” He added their cookie haul to the cart.
She was holding her purse strap in a death grip. “Ready. We should get sushi.”
“We just bought groceries.”
“Yeah, but nobody cooks after shopping. You’re supposed to eat out. It’s goblin law on goblin grocery day.”
He chuckled. “Sure.”
Back at his apartment, they fed Beta Carotene a snack and crashed in the living room.
“Is this disrupting your Saturday?” she asked thoughtfully. They could do anything now, go almost anywhere, but she was happy on the couch watching a classic movie and eating sushi with him. Boring married life was one hundred percent for her when she got to choose it. “How does meal prep work? Cook everything, divvy it up, and freeze it?”
“Not for me. I cook every day. As long as I have the ingredients in the fridge, I’ll stick to the plan.”
She nodded. “So, what else do you do?”
“We just got away from having a rigid schedule. Why are you so eager to jump back into one?”
“Excuse me for wanting to learn about your life.” She scoffed in mock offense, praying his psychic radar couldn’t pick up on how desperate she was to findwhereshe fit in his life.Howshe should fit. What he wanted from her.
“You don’t have to learn it all in one day.” His laugh was quick and easy. “We have time now, Zinnia. We have forever.”
Jordan casually promising forever almost sent her over the edge right there on the couch. She’d had such rigid ideas of how her marriage would play out. Had been so stubborn about them too, but that was before him.
Did she even have the right to change her mind? If she opened their door and it didn’t work out, could they go back? Close it again like it never happened?
Some days, all she thought about was kissing him and how badly she wanted to. Hours spent imagining every motion, every breath. She was so damn horny it was actually starting to make her irritable.
She nudged him with her foot. “We should sleep in my bed tonight to try it out. Make sure we like it.”
“We?” He asked, eyeing her.
In the bungalow, he never slept in her room.
“My door is open.” She wanted him to come to her too.
Sleeping together inher bed had been a mistake.
Huge. Massive. She was up half the night, sweating and staring at the ceiling. Ignoring his warm arms inches away from her. Listening to him breathe. Hands clenching the agonizingly soft sheets. Watching the rise and fall of his chest. At one point she began psychically praying for him towake upso she couldbeghim topleaseput her out of her misery.
