Page 59 of Black Jack (Advantage Play 5)

“Grazie,” I reply.

“I hope you live a long, beautiful life together such as Father Lorenzo and myself. We have been very lucky.”

“I’m sure you have been. It’s getting late. You should head back to your home before it gets too dark,” Jack suggests.

“Yes. I think you are right,” Father Lorenzo agrees. “My eyes aren’t quite as good as they used to be. Do you have the marriage license?”

Jack digs into the front pocket of his dark slacks. “Yeah, it’s right here. I have a pen in my car––”

“I have one right here.” Father Lorenzo pulls a dark blue ballpoint pen from his black suit before handing it to Jack. “Once we have your signatures, it will all be official.”

After scribbling our names on the cream-colored paper, we say our final goodbyes. Then I watch Father Lorenzo and his wife head to a small, tan sedan parked by the side of the house before driving down the road.

The dusky night air starts to settle around us. Swallowing thickly, I rock back on my heels, then motion to the lights hanging overhead. “Am I supposed to take down the props for today’s activity? Or…?”

“Matteo said he’ll take care of it, but thanks for the offer.” He winks, making my pulse flutter in response. “He did give me a key if you’re too tired to drive back to the city tonight. What do you think?”

“Sleep here? In this estate?”

“If you’re interested.”

For some reason, the thought of staying somewhere other than my own bed makes it feel more like a wedding night than just another evening. And I don’t know how I feel about either scenario.

My mouth opens before closing just as quickly. “I––”

“We don’t have to.”

“No, It’s fine––”

“I don’t have a preference,” he interrupts. “Seriously. Whatever you want, Bianca.”

That’s the problem though. I’m not sure what I want anymore. Ever since I met Jack, everything got so convoluted that I’m not even sure what’s up and what’s down. I don’t even know how to dissect my feelings for the guy because I can’t tell if I’m trying to find the good in him so that I’ll be repulsed by him, or if it only fans my curiosity and I’m seconds from being a quivering puddle of emotions. And then if I add the whole consummation to the evening, and whether or not I wanna open that can of worms in the first place since he didn’t technically pay for anything, makes me feel like I’m on a Tilt-a-Whirl at the county fair.

But he’s my husband. Doesn’t that mean he should get it for free regardless of whether or not I’m in the mood? And why am I in the mood? I’m never in the mood. Haven’t I already gotten what I want out of him since we both signed the marriage certificate? Now my plan to blackmail all my former clients can come to fruition without my head rolling. Shouldn’t that make me happy? Then why do I feel like I’m ten seconds from puking right here on the grass that’s greener than any grass has a right to be? And am I really annoyed at the grass right now? What’s wrong with me?

“You feeling alright?” Jack’s forehead wrinkles before he presses his palm to the side of my face. “You don’t have a fever.”

“That’s because I’m not sick.”

“You look pale.”

Annoyed, I cross my arms and lash out, “Well maybe that’s because I’m thinking about the wedding night and your expectations.”

“Who said I have expectations?” he counters.

I glare back at him. “Every guy has expectations on his wedding night.”

“Is that why you freaked out when I mentioned staying here tonight?” He hooks his thumb over his shoulder toward the Moretti estate. “Bianca, I have zero expectations for tonight. Zero. I tried to make that clear by that kiss during the ceremony. Pretty sure I linger longer on my grandma’s cheek than I did yours tonight.”

My nose scrunches. “Ew.”

He laughs. “My point exactly.”

Wait….

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” I ask as the pieces finally click into place.

“What? No, that’s not what I was––”

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