Page 35 of The Marriage Mistake

My throat was too tight to speak, so I just shook my head. Jack nodded and took the side closest to the door, sitting on the edge of the bed as he scrolled through his phone. I took a seat in a big comfy armchair next to the window, then reached into my bag and pulled out my e-reader. I opened my latest book and settled in. Tried to settle in. Mostly, I looked at the bed out of the corner of my eye and panicked about the night to come.

Meanwhile, Jack called his brother to update him on our location. Then I heard him make another call, in a softer voice. Even before he said his name, I knew he was speaking to Darby.

“Sadie’s going to come pick you up. You’ll sleep over at Gideon’s place tonight.” Pause. Sigh. “I know you’re a teenager, Darbs, but I don’t want you in the house all night on your own. Being at home for an hour after school isn’t the same thing as an entire night during this kind of storm. Gideon’s apartment has an extra bedroom, and you know he’s a great cook. You’ll have fun.” Another pause. “Okay. Fine, yes. Thank you. Love you too.”

He sighed and glanced at me.

I arched my brows. “Darby’s not happy about having a babysitter?”

“She made me promise to go thrifting with her next weekend,” Jack said, scowling. “Apparently there’s an estate sale she wants to go to. How she finds out about these things, I have no idea.”

“You don’t like thrifting?”

“We don’t need more junk in the house.”

I laughed at his grumpiness. “I’ll go with her. I love estate sales.” I realized what I’d just said, then stammered, “I mean, I know it’s not my place. I know you don’t want me bonding with her or anything. It’s, um, you know, I just meant⁠—”

“Ember.” Jack’s lips twitched. “It’s fine. I appreciate the offer.”

But he wasn’t taking me up on it, I noticed. Because I’d overstepped. I knew he didn’t want me breaking Darby’s heart when I left, and the easiest way to ensure that was to keep my distance.

Jack kicked his shoes off and leaned against the headboard, intermittently murmuring on the phone and tapping what I assumed were work emails. At one point I glanced up, and he’d fallen asleep where he sat.

I watched him in the warm light of the bedside lamp, the rain making us feel cut off from the world outside. With his face relaxed in sleep, I could admire the strong lines of his jaw and cheekbones, the slash of his brows, the strength coiled within his long body. His shirt had rucked up the tiniest bit, giving me a glimpse of golden flesh above his hip. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

Even with a little bit of drool coming out of his mouth.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I returned my attention to my book. A little while later, I heard a snort, followed by a sleepy, “What time is it?”

Jack was sleep-mussed and relaxed as he rubbed his eyes and tried to stifle a yawn. My heart squeezed.

“It’s a little after five,” I said.

“Shit. I was supposed to try to get some work done.”

“You probably needed the sleep,” I said, and the words rang true. Jack carried himself like a carefree man with zero responsibilities other than charming everyone around, but the truth was, his life was full to the brink with obligations. He had school pick-ups and drop-offs to do most days, unless one of the other parents volunteered. Then he had to manage Darby’s extracurriculars, schoolwork, and all the other tasks and activities that came with parenting a thirteen-year-old girl. Judging by the way the other parents spoke to him, he was active with Darby’s school life and not a stranger to the PTA. Not to mention the time he spent just being with Darby, listening to her talk about her day, asking her about her opinion on any and all things. He was the face of his brother’s company, and he worked just as much as I did. He took care of his property (there was no gardener, I’d learned over the past week) and his house with as much dedication as he could. And then there was the rest of the family. He went out of his way to make his grandmother happy, even at great personal cost to himself by agreeing to marry me. I had no doubt he put others first in many, many other ways I hadn’t observed yet. It was who he was.

And he hid it.

Or he tried to.

The more time I spent with Jack, the more I saw the man beneath the mask. He had a big heart and a strong sense of duty. He was loyal, caring, and generous with the people he loved.

The problem was, the people he loved were few and it seemed he wasn’t open to adding anyone else to the list.

There was a knock on the door, and when Jack opened it, a staff member informed us we were invited to dinner. Jack waited for me, then pressed his hand between my shoulder blades to guide me out of the room.

I stiffened, putting a bit more space between us. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to touch me, quite the opposite. Having his hands on me set me on fire. It made me feel like I hadn’t really been living life before. I’d been walking through a dream, and now I was finally waking up.

All that from a brush of his palm on my back.

I had to keep my distance for my own sanity.

From the corner of my eye, I caught him glance over at me as he dropped his hand back to his side. I thought I caught some tightness around his mouth, but I looked away before I could be sure.

We walked into a beautiful dining room with a giant, contemporary art piece on one of the walls, directly across from big windows showing off the view of the storm. I sat down next to Jack, keenly aware of the brush of his arm against mine, the nudge of his knee against my leg.

He probably didn’t even know he was touching me.