Page 40 of The Marriage Mission

"You realize I charged half the normal rate and did double the work in a quarter of the time? Why do you think I did that, Jacqui?"

Jacqui's gaze was fixated on his left hand, like she knew what that hand wanted to do to her. Like she wasn't so sure she wouldn't like it. "Because of Fish. Some kind of Army code or something."

"Hmmm." Noah massaged his wrist, but he didn't let go. Not yet. "Just like I hovered around Fish's office to catch a glimpse of him. Or found any reason—even a fight—just so I could speak with him. Or made sure that he ate and took a break after a long day on his feet. Yeah, I did all that for the Army code thing I share with Fish."

"I don't know what you're doing with me." Jacqui threw up her hands, the envelope falling to the floor. "Everyone always wants something from me. I can't figure out what you want. You don't ask me for anything. And you drive me crazy."

Noah leaned over, placing one hand on either side of the headrest until he crowded her in the passenger seat. "Maybe that's what I want: to drive you so crazy that you break the guest room bed so that you have to sleep next to me. To watch bad television with you until you curl up in my arms where you belong."

Both their breaths came as though they'd run a marathon. Because they both had. It had only been a week, but Noah felt like he'd been racing his whole life to get to this point. To get to this woman.

"What I want from you, Jacqui, is just you. I want you."

There was confusion in her gaze. But also desire. It was enough for Noah. He inched closer. But not close enough to take. He needed her to take that last step.

"Let me have you."

"What are you going to do with me?" Her lips brushed his as she spoke, but she didn't press into him. She was still holding back.

"I'm going to take care of you."

And with that, he pulled away and got out of the vehicle. By the time he rounded to her side and handed her out, it was clear she was off balance. Perfect, just the way he wanted her. As she walked into the bank with unsteady feet, Noah kept his hand at her low back, providing the support she could no longer deny she needed.

ChapterTwenty-Eight

Jacqui's mind was adrift, still echoing with the soft pressure of Noah's lips against hers, the sensation lingering like a sweet note in a favorite song. He hadn't kissed her. Not exactly. He'd just whispered the promise of it. Jacqui had wanted to make that promise into a vow. But she'd realized it too late, and he'd been gone.

Only he wasn't gone. He was right beside her. He held her hand in his as they walked down the familiar paths of her hometown, his fingers intertwined tightly with hers. Jacqui felt anchored in a way that she never had before. Not since her parents had held her hand, given her a hug, planted a kiss on her forehead.

Noah was the anchor in the current that was her whirling thoughts. She followed him, letting him guide her through the town with a calm assurance. Jacqui pointed out the old bookstore where she'd spent countless hours as a child, the bench by the river where she used to read and dream. Each site was a memory, a piece of her past. Yet as she shared these slivers of her life, she found herself oddly tongue-tied. Words, usually her friends, now stumbled and tripped on her tongue.

They passed Mrs. Dalloway's flower shop. Jacqui waved to the elderly owner, who was arranging a colorful display of spring blooms outside.

"Jacqui, dear, who is this handsome young man?" Mrs. Dalloway called out.

Noah stepped forward with a charming smile, his grip on Jacqui's hand tightening reassuringly. "I'm Noah, Jacqui’s husband," he introduced himself smoothly, taking the lead as he always did.

"Ah, lucky man." Mrs. Dalloway clapped her hands delightedly. "You keep her happy, you hear?"

"I intend to," Noah replied, his gaze drifting back to Jacqui with a look so filled with warmth it made her heart flutter uncontrollably.

They continued their stroll with Noah pausing to admire the historical marker by the old courthouse, allowing Jacqui a moment to lean against him. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the steadiness of his presence. It was disconcerting how natural it felt to be this close to him, how hard it was now to imagine a time when he hadn’t been by her side.

With each landmark, each wave to a neighbor, Jacqui's awareness of Noah—his touch, his scent, the sound of his voice—grew stronger. She couldn't remember the last time she had walked these streets alone, nor did she want to. The thought of not having his hand to hold, his smile to meet her gaze, his laughter mingling with hers, seemed unimaginable now.

The thought made her growl. Or perhaps that was her stomach.

"Let's stop in here for a bite."

By the time Noah had pushed open the door to the establishment, it was already too late to back away. A wave of fried aromas hit them—the heavy scent of oil and batter, a stark contrast to the subtle spices and steamed offerings of Jacqui's own establishment. Jacqui instinctively wrinkled her nose, her chef’s sensibilities rebelling against the pervasive smell of barbecue sauce. The interior of the restaurant was bustling with a rustic charm that was unmistakably Southern. Paper menus were scattered across the tables, signaling the ever-changing daily specials that were a hallmark of this down-home eatery. The staff milled about in casual attire, each person's unique style replacing the uniformity that Jacqui's own team adhered to.

The layout of the restaurant was open, allowing patrons a clear view straight into the kitchen. It was a noisy, lively hub where the clatter of pans and the sizzle of the grill were on full display. As Jacqui’s eyes adjusted to the scene, her rival, the owner of the restaurant, caught sight of her from across the room. A broad, knowing grin spread across his face as he wiped his hands on his apron and made his way toward them and accused her of spying.

“You here to spy on how real comfort food is made?”

“Nope,” she said. "Just starving, and there was a line at the gas station. So we're here."

Jedidiah Winchester chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter and the implied challenge. “Maybe you’ll pick up a tip or two while you’re here.”

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