Page 24 of The Marriage Mission

"I'm not sure," Noah groaned, exaggerating his discomfort as he caught her concerned look. The truth was, the fall had hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to the warmth spreading through him at her touch.

The frame twisted awkwardly beneath him like a failed circuit. He groaned, the sound echoing slightly in the small room, not entirely feigned as the jolt from the crash had genuinely rattled his bones.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Just here... Everywhere."

Her hands were careful as they moved to his legs, her fingers pressing lightly against his chest and his back, searching for any sign of real injury. Noah didn't hold back his groan. Too bad it sounded more like pleasure.

The touch of her fingers was like a jolt, far different from the pain of the fall coursing through him. It was as if her touch was reestablishing connections along frayed wires within him, each contact sparking pathways long dormant.

There was a delicate scent of vanilla that clung to her, mingling with the sharper tang of worry that filled the air. He watched her, her face so close to his, her eyes focused intently on him. It was intimate, this concerned scrutiny, and it made his heart beat faster.

"I'm fine. I'm made of strong stock. I'll just sleep it off and be right as rain in the morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure."

It was a gamble. Every move with her had to be. With a woman like Jacqui, Noah knew he had to make every idea appear to be her own.

"All right," she said. "I'll go and make up the couch."

Noah's feigned grimace fell into utter disbelief. "The couch?"

"The other two bedrooms are empty since my sisters moved out. No beds."

No beds. Meaning there was only one other bed in the house: the one in Jacqui's bedroom. Noah's sole mission was to get into that bed.

"I don't know about the couch," he hedged, lacing a groan into his voice. "I think I need a mattress after that fall."

"There's only one other bed in the house—mine."

"I'll take yours."

"You're kicking me out of my bed?"

"Of course not. It's a big bed, isn't it? We can share."

"No we can't."

Noah groaned again. He wobbled as he climbed to his feet. Then he limped, placing his hand on his back. "Fine, I'll take the couch."

He walked stiffly, playing it up. As he walked, each step was careful and measured, his body held rigidly, as if fearing that any normal movement might exacerbate his "injury." Every few steps, he would wince sharply, a visual punctuation that he was not okay, his hand pressing more firmly against his back as if to quell a surge of pain.

Noah's eyes flicked toward Jacqui, stealing quick glances under furrowed brows to gauge her reaction. Was she buying it? Did she look concerned enough to step in and offer aid, or perhaps some soothing words? He wasn't so sure. So he pulled out the big guns.

"Can't wait to walk into work tomorrow." Another limp. "What will they think you did to me when I come in bruised and limping after our wedding night?"

Jacqui pursed her lips. Then she worried the lower one with her fingers.

"I just hope this doesn't lay me up from finishing the work on Jules' bakery."

"I see what you're doing."

"I'm trying to get comfortable on your couch." Noah punched the couch cushions, trying to tenderize their firmness before lowering himself down.

Jacqui cocked her head and put her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

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