Page 17 of The Marriage Mission

"I should advise you again, Mr. Henry, that you can have your own counsel," said Birdy.

Jacqui glared at her.

Birdy shrugged.

"No need, and call me Noah. What's Jacqui's is hers. What's mine is ours."

"I'm not interested in your tools," said Jacqui.

"Objection, your honor," screeched the parrot.

Birdy snorted and then cleared her throat. “As for debt liabilities, we need to document any pre-existing debts and ensure they remain individually managed. Noah, this applies to any debts you might bring into the marriage as well.”

"I don't have any debt."

"Can you prove that?" Jacqui asked suspiciously.

"How can you prove something doesn't exist?"

Jacqui opened her mouth. And then closed it.

"I don't have any line of credit or credit cards. I pay in cash. The only credit I've extended is to you."

Jacqui opened her mouth and closed it again.

"Sign on the dotted line," said the parrot from its perch.

“What about future earnings and investments made during the marriage?” said Birdy.

Noah shrugged. "I'm only interested in collecting what's owed."

His gaze dipped to Jacqui's mouth. He knew she caught the glance because of her intake of breath. It wasn't part of his plan to glance at her mouth, but he couldn't help himself. That upper lip had been so stiff since they'd met in the parking lot this afternoon and walked into this building. He wanted to kiss it into pliability.

Instead, his hands rested lightly on the stack of papers that defined the terms of their prenup. The office was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of papers and the soft hum of the air conditioning. Only Birdy and her bird shifted on their respective perches. Both eyed Noah and Jacqui with interest.

Jacqui's expression, however, held a trace of frustration. Her brow furrowed as she glanced between Noah and the documents. "Hold on," she said, stopping Noah's hand as he reached for the pen. "You have an opportunity here. You could take advantage of me."

It took everything in Noah to hold his tongue from saying the thing he shouldn't. He wanted to take Jacqui, all right. But more than anything, he wanted her to give herself to him.

He knew she wouldn't. She wasn't yet capable of it. Because she didn't trust him. Because she didn't trust herself.

If Noah thought the rewiring job of Chow Town was an undertaking, taking on the restaurant's chef was going to be the job of his life. Just the thought of getting Jacqui Chou's wiring crossed sent a thrill through him. He had every intention of testing each and every one of her fuses to see which would make her light up, which would make her settle down. He just had to get her to open up her fuse box to him first.

"You’ve already denied me the only thing I asked for, Jacqui," he said, his voice low and steady.

"And what was that?"

"You said you wouldn’t cook for me," Noah reminded her gently, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"I said you could eat at the restaurant for free, didn’t I?"

Noah didn't answer. Instead, he signed on the dotted line. Then he turned and handed the pen to Jacqui.

She stared down at the proffered writing utensil. Slowly, she stretched out her hand. Then flexed her fingers. It was clear to Noah she was trying to avoid his touch.

He flipped the pen over, offering her the capped top while he held on to the ballpoint tip. When Jacqui's fingers seized the pen, he didn't let go immediately. Her gaze rose to his, and he saw it—that spark.

"Your witness, prosecutor," the parrot hollered.

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