Page 67 of Marriage is a Shore Thing
“That’s different.” He palms the back of his head, glancing sheepishly at me. “Sorry, man. I might have overreacted.”
“Might have?!”
I place my palm between Geneva’s shoulders to keep her from lurching forward and accidentally hurting her ankle. “Why don’t we all have a cup of coffee?”
“There’s not enough coffee in the world to make up for his shenanigans.” Though her tone hits like a coarse brick to the face, her body softens into my touch.
Noah lifts a shoulder, his grin boyish. “If I shenan once, I’m gonna shenanigan.”
“Out!”
With a huff, Noah tromps down the stairs. Geneva scrubs her fingertips over her forehead with a throaty growl.
“Hey.” I keep my words and my touch soft as I run my palms up and down her arms. “It’s a good thing to have someone so worried about you.”
“Unfoundedlyworried. We’re both fully dressed.” Her jaw tightens as she gestures to her striped long-sleeve sleep set and my scrub pants and shirt. “And so what if we had been…canoodling.”
My brows shoot up. “Canoodling?”
“I’m not going to use medical terms, doctor,” she tells me with a glare. “Even if we were…you know. We’re married, and that’s my business.”
“It absolutely is,” I agree, sliding my hands up to gently massage her shoulders.
Geneva tilts her head back, closing her eyes and taking a slow, steadying breath. “Okay, I think I’m ready to not murder my idiot brother now.”
My lips quirk. “Dismemberment before breakfast is generally discouraged.”
“But it’s oh so fun.” My wife’s grin is completely unabashed, lighting her whole face.
It’s impossible not to hold her when she smiles at me like that. The crutch clatters to the floor as I sweep Geneva in my arms. Instead of immediately striding downstairs, I nuzzle the sweet spot beneath her ear, my grin blooming when her breath catches.
“Thanks for last night.”
She snorts. “Like you said, nothing happened.”
I lift my head to catch her gaze, willing to risk it. Geneva may not have realized the significance of her being emotionally available while I worked through my grief, but I do. I don’t want her to backtrack and pretend like last night wasn’t monumental. I’ve seen the way she edges around serious conversations, how she redirects her brother or her friends. The way she asked about Taylor, the way she was there for me when I needed it most…
“I meant how you supported me.”
“Oh.” She ducks her chin for a beat before her eyes meet mine. “You’re welcome.”
We find Noah grumbling beside a steaming coffee pot, arms crossed. I get Geneva comfortable before placing my now-cold cup of cocoa in the microwave. Our gazes snag before I press 58on the keypad. The eyeroll I receive makes fizzy energy skip to my toes like a stone over a pond.
“Stop making goo-goo eyes at each other. It’s creeping me out.” Noah pulls down two more mugs, aggressively setting them on the countertop. “Wasn’t this supposed to be a ruse? A fake marriage?”
“Things changed.”
I almost swallow my tongue at Geneva’s resolute words. I’ve been wanting the undeniable spark between us to transform into something real but was afraid to ask if she wanted the same for fear of her shutting me out. But Geneva’s firm posture and no-nonsense glare dares her brother to argue.
“I’m going to be the only single person left on the island,” Noah says, more to himself than to us.
Before I can reassure him, his phone rings in the pocket of his joggers.
“Hey, Mom.” Noah listens for a long while, nodding faintly before glancing at Geneva’s ankle resting atop the seat of my chair. “Yeah, it’s looking better, so I think next Friday will work. I’m actually in her kitchen right now.”
Joanna talks while Noah’s smile turns devious. “Oh, I know she’s not a morning person, but that’s the right of the younger brother. I’ve got to keep her on her toes.”
“Give me the phone.” Geneva outstretches her hand.
