Page 37 of The Marriage Mission

"Go have a seat. Get comfortable."

Jacqui did as she was told. When Noah came into the living room, she sat in the corner of the couch. Her feet were tucked beneath her. Noah could've chosen the opposite corner. But he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to be close to his wife. He took the middle cushion.

"What are we watching?" he asked as he arranged food on a small plate for her. "Not the Cooking Channel, since you're off work and you need to let your brain unwind."

He blew on the hot slice of pizza. Then he lifted it to her mouth.

At first she startled at the offering. Then she glared suspiciously at him. Noah waited patiently, not moving a muscle until she accepted what he gave her.

Jacqui leaned forward and took a bite. Noah watched her lips move as she chewed.

"I don't care to watch anything military, either." He dipped a tater tot in ketchup, then held it out to her.

There was no glare this time. There was a pause. It lasted half a second, less than the last time. Then she leaned in and took his offering.

Noah scooted closer. “How about a reality show so we can make fun of people making the wrong decisions about their lives?"

Jacqui's throat worked as she swallowed the pizza and tot. Then she nodded. She rested back against the cushions but not in the corner. She rested closer to him, meeting in the middle.

Noah continued to feed her, bit by bit. It never occurred to him that he hadn't taken a single bite of food the whole time. His belly didn't grumble from hunger. He slowed its beats in complete contentment as Jacqui moved closer and closer into his heat.

ChapterTwenty-Six

She knew she wasn't dreaming. And it was all the more perfect that this was really happening to her. Because this was something she had never even thought to want for herself.

In the soft predawn light that barely hinted at the new day outside, Jacqui lay perfectly still, wrapped in the warmth of Noah’s arms. She considered allowing herself to believe she was still caught in the tendrils of a dream, because if she was in a dream, then she would give herself permission to do the things there that she would never do in reality. The reality, however, was just so much better than she could imagine.

There was the solid feel of Noah's chest against her back. His breathing was rhythmic and soothing as it brushed against her neck. One of his hands rested at the divot of her hip. The other was draped around her neck, his thumb on her pulse point. This was nothing the fabrication of her sleep-addled mind could produce; this was wonderfully, terrifyingly real.

As consciousness nudged her further awake, Jacqui savored the memory of the previous evening—the way Noah had taken care of her, effortlessly stepping into the role of host in her own home. He had fed her slices of the frozen pizza and tater tots. They'd clicked through episodes of a reality show and mocked the participants mercilessly. Jacqui wasn't sure when it had happened, but he had ultimately drawn her into the curve of his body. Or maybe she had snuck past his defenses to find a hiding spot there.

The way he smelled, a mix of clean linen and something distinctly Noah, was now a scent she would recognize anywhere, a scent that spoke of safety and something perilously close to home. The temperature of his skin was just right, warmer than any blanket. His heat seeped into her in a way that loosened the knots of tension that perpetually wound through her shoulders and back.

Lying there on her couch, Jacqui felt a peace she hadn’t known in years. It was nothing like her usual mornings, which were filled with immediate thoughts of to-do lists and the day’s responsibilities. Here, in the quiet of her living room with Noah, she found a tranquility that whispered seductive promises of what could be if she let her guard down completely.

But as the first true light of morning began to seep through the curtains, reality beckoned with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. She knew she had to open her eyes, had to slip from the sanctuary of Noah’s arms and face the world that awaited her.

When she opened her eyes, it was to a message on the television screen. Netflix asked if she still wanted to watch. On the table sat the last remnants of their frozen meal: the crusts of frozen pizza and a few tots covered in ketchup. At the edge of the table sat the envelope that Nãinai had handed to Jacqui.

That envelope made it possible for Jacqui to have everything she'd ever dreamed of. The restaurant could get its upgrades. Jules' bakery could expand. Jami could stay on the road longer. But what did it get Jacqui? What did she want?

What she wanted was to stay exactly where she was. She wanted to keep Noah's arms around her. She wanted him to heat her up some breakfast and then feed it to her while she sat in his lap. That was too much to ask for.

Reluctantly, Jacqui pushed off him. She did not get far.

Noah’s hold tightened. His eyes were already open, heavy with sleep, but quick to focus on her. His voice was rough with sleep but filled with a warmth that echoed in his eyes. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. The space between them was charged with an unspoken acknowledgment of the night’s intimacy and the day’s demands.

His hair was tousled, his expression one of content understanding, as if he too wished they could linger in the night’s shadow. Jacqui offered Noah a smile that carried a silent thank you for the night, for the care, for the momentary escape. Surely, he'd be ready to move on soon. He had a life he'd want to get back to.

As she prepared to rise from the couch, he captured her hand. It was the one where he'd placed a ring. His thumb pressed against that band.

"Why don't you take the day off?" he said.

"I can't do that."

"You think your boss wouldn't allow it?"

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