Page 30 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

She follows me to the kitchen, filling the sink with hot, soapy water. “I told her I was still figuring out the loan stuff, and she said she didn’t want to wait forever.”

“So you’ve decided to go for it, then?” I set more dirty dishes on the counter beside her.

She plunges a bowl into the suds and scrubs. “I think so.” With the back of her hand, she tries to push away a few strands of hair that are stuck behind her glasses.

“Here. Let me.” Without a second thought, I reach out. Her skin is oh so soft where my fingertips lightly graze her forehead as I tuck the hair behind her ear.

And I am a weak man, because my hand lingers there, cupping her ear as I get lost in her eyes. As if it’s got a mind of its own, my thumb takes its dear sweet time skimming its way from the top of her ear, down the edge, all the way to the perfectly shaped lobe, where my thumb and forefinger rest on opposite sides.

My breathing stutters.

I’ve touched Marilee a thousand times before. But something about standing here in the stillness of my kitchen—nowourkitchen—at midnight in the half-dim room, with moonlight streaming in through the windows, makes the air between us vibrate on a different current.

“Jay?” she whispers, her voice thick. “Are you okay?”

Shoot. I force my hand down and take a step backward.

She stares at me, her mouth slightly gaping. So much for self-control and resistance.Get it together, Jordan.I need to refocus, to remember that just because a few things have changed—like Marilee’s address and the fact our names are linked on paper—doesn’t mean thateverything’s changed.

I clear my throat. “Yeah, of course. Everything’s fine.”

Everything except the fact I might be falling even more in love with my best friend than ever before.

And that isnotthe bargain we’ve struck.

eight

MARILEE

I’ve been Jordan’s wife for four days.

And other than Monday, when we had the actual ceremony and evening alone together before our friends dogpiled in to “celebrate” with us, I’ve hardly had a moment alone with him. With his busy season coming up at work, he’s spent long days planning at the office. We’ve worked it out so he takes Ryder to school in the mornings and I pick him up after my extra-early shifts at the bakery. Then, I spend the rest of the afternoon and evening taking him to the playground, feeding him cheese crisps and homemade pizza bites, curling up on the couch and reading with him…

Ryder’s adjusted to it all really well, and that’s probably because, other than my change of address, the amount of time we spend together is honestly not that different than before Jordan and I were married.

Not much is different, really…except for this pesky feeling inside of me, the one that says I’ve finally found where I belong. And the warning that goes along with it—that it’s temporary.

When that feeling comes, I snuff out any tendrils of attraction for Jordan and focus on my relationship with Ryder. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Tried several times over to have babies with Donny.

Tried…and failed.

But now, I have a chance, for one year at least, to be a stepmom to the most precious little boy I can imagine. And I’m going to enjoy every second of that.

“Ryder!” I call down the hall from my place at the stovetop, where I’m making him a grilled cheese sandwich. “Time to eat, bud.” After checking the underside of the bread, I flip it. Blake may be the grilled cheese connoisseur of the family, but Mom also taught me how to cook, so what can I say? The golden-brown crust speaks volumes.

At least in this—the realm of the kitchen—I am not a mess.

“Woohoo!” My charge gallops out of his bedroom on a stick horse, a cowboy hat atop his head. As per a prearranged date, he spent several hours yesterday afternoon with Constance and Larry, the latter of which picked him up directly from school and then brought him home to me with the new toys.

I’ll admit, it’s hard not to see them as bribes. To not seethemas the enemies.

No doubt someone has told them about our new relationship status, though Larry didn’t even get out of the car when Ryder got home, so I can’t be sure. Despite not living in our town directly, they come here all the time, and gossip spreads like a fire in Hallmark Beach. When I went into work on Tuesday, I got more pats on the back, hugs, and well wishes for “lots and lots of adorable babies”—and the winks to go along with that statement—than I can count.

The funny thing? Not one person asked me for the story of how Jordan and I got together. Like I hoped, they just assumed they knew it.

Which, I guess, says a lot.

I’m just not sure what exactly it says…

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