Page 49 of An Unexpected Love

“How much longer?” Jill asked when she could disguise the defeat and frustration she was feeling.

He hesitated, then massaged the back of his neck as though to ease away a tiredness that stretched from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. “A week. It shouldn’t be much more than that.”

A week. Seven days. She closed her eyes, because looking at him, seeing him this exhausted, this spent, was painful. He needed her support now, not her censure.

“All right,” she murmured.

“I don’t like this any better than you do.” Jordan stood and held her securely in his embrace, burying his face in the curve of her neck. “I’m a newlywed, remember. There’s no one I want to spend time with more than my wife.”

Jill nodded, because it would have been impossible to speak.

“I wish you hadn’t waited up for me,” he said, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into their bedroom. Without turning on the light, he settled her on the bed and lay down beside her, placing his head on her chest. Jill’s fingers idly stroked his hair.

Words burned in her throat, the need to unburden herself, but she dared not. Jordan was exhausted. This wasn’t the right time.

Would it ever be the right time?

There’d been so many lonely evenings, so many empty mornings. Every night Jill went to bed alone, and only when Jordan slipped in beside her did she feel alive. Only when they were together did she feel whole. So she waited night after night for a few precious minutes, knowing they were all he had to spare.

The even sound of Jordan’s breathing told her he’d fallen asleep. The weight on her chest was growing uncomfortable, yet she continued to stroke his hair for several minutes, unwilling to disturb his rest.

She’d always known it would come to this; she just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

A week. He’d promised her it would be over within a week.

And it would be—until the next time.

* * *

Jill awoke early the following morning, astonished to find Jordan asleep beside her. At some point during the night he’d rolled away from her and covered them both with a blanket. He hadn’t bothered to undress.

Jill wriggled toward him and playfully kissed his ear.She knew she ought to let him sleep, but she also knew he’d be annoyed if he was late for the office.

Slowly he opened his eyes, looking surprised to see her there with him.

“Morning,” she whispered, with a series of tiny, nibbling kisses.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Almost eight.” She looped her arms around his neck and smiled down at him.

“Hmm. An indecent hour.”

“Very indecent.”

“My favorite time of day.” His fingers were busy unfastening the opening of her pajama top and his eyes blazed with unmistakable need.

“Jordan,” she said breathlessly, “you’ll be late for work.”

“I fully intend to be,” he said, directing her lips to his.

* * *

“It’s happening already, isn’t it?” Elaine Morrison said bluntly the next Saturday. She stood in Jill’s living room, holding a china cup and saucer and staring out the window. The view of the Olympic Mountains was spectacular, the white peaks jutting against a backdrop of bright blue sky as fluffy clouds drifted past.

Jill knew precisely what her mother was saying. She responded the only way she could—truthfully. “Yes.”

Elaine turned, her face pale, haunted with the pain of the past, the pain she saw reflected in her daughter’s life. “I was afraid of this.”

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