Page 41 of The Marriage Mission

Jed's casual demeanor shifted momentarily as he did a double-take upon seeing Noah. The recognition in his eyes was unmistakable, a look Jacqui had often seen her grandfather use when he spotted a fellow veteran. It was a look that spoke of shared experiences and unspoken understanding, typically reserved for those who had served.

Noah returned Jed's look. There was a brief, silent exchange between them. Noah's expression softened, respect mingling with surprise as he nodded slightly toward Jed.

"You must be the new husband everyone's gossiping about."

"That would be me."

"Noah Henry. If memory serves, you earned the Purple Heart for?—"

"It's ancient history."

Another bout of silent communication passed between the two men. Jacqui didn't like it. She especially didn't like that Jed knew more about her husband than she did. Noah had earned a medal?

“Have a seat. Try the house special. On the house, of course.”

"You don't have to—" Jacqui began.

"It'll be my pleasure. I'm still smarting from that review your sister gave me the last time she was in town. That was a hit job if ever I saw one."

"Jami is always honest. If she said your chicken was dry, then it was."

"I'll prepare this plate myself so you can be the judge until she gets back." Jed straightened the salt and pepper shakers on the table. Then rearranged the silverware. "When will that be, by the way?"

Jacqui shrugged. Not because she didn't know when her sister would be back stateside. Because she wouldn't tell this man if she did.

Jed returned to the kitchen, shouting orders and laughing with his staff. That was something Jacqui never did—laugh with her staff. Or pick up the utensils to cook a meal. Despite her initial reservations, she recognized the appeal of this place—it was unpretentious, hearty, and vibrant, a community hub that was as much about the experience as it was about the food.

"Tell me about your sisters," said Noah, drawing her attention back to him.

"Jules you met."

"The diabetic that owns a bakery shop? She likes to live dangerously."

"Mom always said to make friends with what you're afraid of. Jules grew up afraid of sugar. So she made friends with it."

"What about Jami?"

"Great cook. Amazing writer. She travels through Asia and brings back authentic recipes."

"Have you ever been?"

"To Asia?" Jacqui nodded. "A few times. But not in years, not since my parents died."

Noah reached across the table for her hand. Jacqui hadn't realized she'd let his hand go. Her fingers were drawn to his like magnets.

He didn't press her to talk about her parents' deaths. Which made her want to. But just then, the food arrived.

Jacqui found she not only enjoyed the food, she enjoyed her husband's company. He peppered her with questions about her sisters and her childhood, about Nãinai and the restaurant. He steered clear of her parents, only venturing in with the few tidbits she chose to give. By the end of the meal, Jacqui had resolved to tell him everything. But first, she wanted to know more about him.

"Tell me about you. What did you do in the military?"

Noah leaned back, a thoughtful look crossing his features. "I was an EOD tech—explosive ordnance disposal. It was my job to handle and dispose of unexploded ordnance. Bombs, essentially."

"That must be why you're so good with wires."

His smile faded. "Yeah, something like that."

Jacqui noticed a slight shift in his demeanor, a tightening around his eyes. "Why did you leave the military?"

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