Page 28 of The Marriage Mission

Mike's reaction was immediate and theatrical. He clutched his heart as though struck by her words, his face a picture of mock horror. "Off? My meat? Next in line."

Jacqui didn't budge. No one tried to cut in front of her. This was their routine, a dance they performed each week, and he would have been disappointed by anything less.

The meat wasn't bad quality. It was still good. But Jacqui had to drive a hard bargain if she wanted to be respected in this industry. It had always been this way.

"Let's put aside that you sold your best cuts to an outsider."

"That outsider makes some good barbecue."

"And what's left here just doesn't look up to snuff. I think a little discount is in order."

"You're off your game this morning. Something to do with your wedding night?"

Jacqui did not blush. She would not blush. She glared.

"That would be my fault. Please excuse my wife."

My wife?It wasn't the first time Noah had said those words today. He'd used them when they'd stopped by the orchard stand and he chatted with Mr. Merchant about his Granny Smith apples. He’d used the title when they came up to the fishmonger, Mr. Phillips. The elderly man had been scaling today's catch, and Noah had asked about his knife. And now he'd used them again.

A shiver went down Jacqui's spine each time he said it. Why did those two words make her feel possessed by him? He wasn't even touching her.

Mike didn't miss anything. Not even as Jacqui ducked her head to examine the cuts for a third time. Noah put a hand on her waist. Jacqui jolted.

"Make it look real," Noah whispered in her ear. Then out loud, he said, "Are you going to introduce me to your friend, love?"

Love?That was even worse thanmy wife.That single word made her heart skip two beats.

"Mr. Mike, I think you should give my wife the newlywed discount," Noah was saying.

"I think I will. If she'll make her father's Dragon Ribs."

"I'll have that made up special for you if you throw in some pork belly." Jacqui held Mike's gaze. Neither of them flinched. She'd seen her father do this with Mike for years. She'd been practicing since she was thirteen. The practice paid off.

"This woman drives a hard bargain," Mike said, packing up the meat. "I'll put it on your tab."

Jacqui nodded as she reached for the package. Noah got there first. His long arms extended beyond hers, and Mike put the meat in his hands. Noah put the package into a reusable grocery bag. He'd been carrying all of her produce this morning.

"I thought you were wounded," Jacqui said when they were away from the butcher's stall. "From the bed last night."

A couple of coeds stopped and looked over their shoulders at the two of them. Jacqui lost the battle with her blush that time. Noah didn't bother to hide his smirk.

"I'm fine." Noah shrugged, not looking injured in the slightest. "These weigh nothing."

They meandered through the lively farmer’s market. The air buzzed with the mingling scents of fresh herbs, ripe fruit, and the tantalizing aroma of freshly grilled food. People kept looking at them. Well, they were looking at him. Mostly women. Women did outnumber men two to one in this town. Jacqui fought the urge to wrap her hands around his biceps.

Noah's steps slowed as they passed a popular food cart, its vibrant signage promising deep-fried delights. “Hey, let’s grab something from here.”

Jacqui wrinkled her nose, eyeing the food cart with a look of disdain. “A food cart? They’re so unhygienic.”

"You haven't eaten since breakfast."

She shrugged. She often didn't eat for stretches at a time. She had taken a tentative bite of the egg sandwich Noah had prepared and was surprised to find it tasty. Or maybe she'd just been that hungry. She'd barely eaten after the wedding and had gone to bed without eating at all.

She'd gone down to the kitchen to pop something into the microwave when she'd found him there. And then she'd found herself holding a spatula. Something that she'd done before learning to hold a pencil but hadn't done in years.

Jacqui snapped back to attention as Noah ordered a couple of the food cart's specialties. She heard her stomach grumble. The traitor. Jacqui watched closely as the cook prepared their food with an attention to detail that both surprised and impressed her. The sizzle of the meat as it hit the grill, the fresh aroma of baked bread, and the vibrant colors of locally sourced vegetables did more than just appeal to the senses—they told a story of passion and care similar to her own.

Jacqui loved everything about the food industry. She'd learned it all from her father and her grandfather. They'd wanted boys to carry on the restaurant's legacy. They'd gotten her. And even though the restaurant was more popular than ever, the bank account didn't reflect it. Mainly because the men in her family had tied up the money as they waited for Jacqui to marry.

---