Page 29 of Anything But Convenient

“What’s wrong?” he asked carefully.

It astounded me that he’s already managed to figure me out in such a small amount of time. My own team, men I’d worked with for years, couldn’t read me as well as he had.

Was that a sign of our compatibility?

I sure hoped so.

Because I felt like I could read him just as well. I’d been watching him enough to noticed every tiny flicker of emotion that cascaded over his features. He was really quite expressive.

Turning the phone his way, I motioned to the screen. A glance down had him widening his eyes.

“Who are you trying to feed? An entire football team?”

I chuffed a half sort of laugh. There was no sound, but with how my shoulders shook, it made it obvious I found his questions amusing.

I tapped the counter to get his attention. When he looked my way, I finger spelled the word allergy on the countertop. His brow furrowed, so I repeated the movements slower.

My whiteboard was somewhere nearby, but I didn’t want to leave this space. He’d stepped up close to me when he walked in the kitchen, and moving meant we might not be this way again for a while. I wanted to enjoy it for as long as I could.

“Allergies?” he said aloud. “Oh! No, I don’t have any. Though if I eat too much cheese, I’m not the nicest person in the world. Upsets my stomach.”

I watched him pat his stomach gently before pushing the phone back my way. Taking that as agreement, I ordered everything, then showed him the estimated time of arrival.

He ran his hands over the countertop, then turned to look over the living room. I would have killed to know what he was thinking. Did he like the space? Did he want to change things?

“I can’t say I’ve ever lived in a house this nice. While I know it'll take some getting used to, I still want to thank you for whatyou’re doing for me. It’s more than most people would be willing to do.”

With a frown, I opened up my notes app on my phone. I didn’t see his phone on him, and I didn’t want to risk sending him off.

It’s no inconvenience. I wanted to help. Besides, you’re helping me too. It’s not one sided. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. So long as my language barriers don’t bother you, then we’re good.

The words felt a bit trite given the scenario. It wasn’t like he was just a roommate or anything, though sexually, that was the current standpoint.

This man was my husband. He deserved to know thanking me wasn’t necessary at every turn.

With all the spoiling I planned to do for him, it would become far too exhausting anyway. Doe was going to have a conniption when he saw the amounts.

That idea, along with the pleased look I hoped my husband would have over his gifts, brought a smile to my face. When Archie looked up from the message, his own smile froze.

I watched as his eyes heated. They were focused firmly on my mouth, leaving no doubt as to what he was thinking.

He swayed towards me, only to catch himself before I could close the distance. There was a shake of his head, then he put a bit of space between us.

I immediately frowned. How could I convince him to come back closer? I needed to feel his lips against mine again. I needed to wrap him in my arms and remind myself how good it felt to hold him.

But his next words halted that train of thought immediately. It doused any desire I felt before throwing me back in time to the moment I realized life would never be the same.

“Can you tell me what happened to make you lose your voice? I… I didn’t want to ask, but I feel like I should know your limits, so I don’t aggravate anything.”

His voice was soft, his tone both curious and hesitant. I could tell he wasn’t trying to upset me. If anything, his explanation proved that much.

Still, it felt like the universe was trying to play a dirty trick on me.

I motioned to the living room, not wanting to have the conversation standing. Plus, I knew this type of thing would be coming. There was zero chance of me marrying sweet, kind, inquisitive Archie without him asking about my injuries.

No one learns as many languages as he has and then neglects to wonder why their husband can’t speak when he used to be able to.

Once I had him seated on the couch, I went to the built-in bookshelf tucked under the stairs. It held the binder with the information I knew he would need. I’d had Tank help me prepare it in the days since I agreed to marrying Archie.

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