Page 58 of The Marriage Mistake

“Unfortunately, that’s not up to you,” I said, crossing to the table so I could scrape the last of my oatmeal out of the bowl and shove it into my wayward mouth. I put the bowl in the dishwasher, feeling Jack’s gaze on me the whole time. When I’d swallowed my bite, I gave him a tight smile. “I’ll go get my exercise clothes on. Meet you back down here in fifteen.”

JACK

I watched her go, unable to hold back my grin. Sneaky little liar. On the outside, Ember was prim and proper and intelligent and buttoned-up.

In reality, she was complex. Interesting. Bewitching.

I, at least, hadn’t been lying to her; every day I spent with her, I fell a little harder. I wondered if she could tell.

Glancing at the door, I remembered the way Gabi had barged in like she belonged here. How surprised she’d looked at seeing Ember in my arms. The way Ember had instinctively tried to pull away, like we were doing something wrong.

I frowned.

It was time for me to make good on my word and prove to everyone—my wife included—that she was the only woman for me.

FIFTEEN

EMBER

Half an hour later, Jack had parked his car at one of the seaside lots just outside of town and we’d made our way between tall sand dunes to the beach beyond. The sand was dense and dark, the ocean a cold, gray expanse that melded with the hazy horizon, and the sky was blanketed with a layer of high, white clouds. It was surprisingly warm, especially considering the storm last weekend. I stood at the top of the sloping sand, listening to the crash of waves and the cries of gulls and other sea birds. The sight of the ocean was wild and untamed, and it made my chest expand in a way I’d never quite felt before.

I was used to keeping my head down. Working on spreadsheets with numbers I could trust. Living in a city, carving out a little space for myself full of predictable routines and as much safety as I could manage.

This was something entirely different. Wind whispered around me, chilling my exposed skin, making me feel brighter, more alive.

“I always love the look of the ocean on a cloudy day,” Jack murmured beside me, his eyes on the invisible horizon. “Something about the expansiveness of it. How untamable it seems. Makes me feel like anything is possible.”

I watched a gull land on the beach and peck at the sand, then look out over the white surf and rippling waves. “I get it,” I said. “It makes you feel small and insignificant, but not in a bad way.”

That’s when I looked over at him and noticed he’d taken off his shirt. Strong shoulders capped a muscular chest, which tapered down to a slim waist. He wore gray athletic shorts and running shoes. Chest hair dotted his pecs and arrowed down to his waistband. He had abs. Like, actual abs that were visible when he was just standing there. When he’d been in bed at the Blanchard mansion, he’d had the blanket up mostly covering his stomach.

I’d never seen a body like his so close before. In the harsh light of the sun, it looked so much more real than it had in our little rain-soaked cocoon at the Blanchard mansion.

He glanced at me, his eyes soft, and I wondered what he saw. There was a smile ghosting over the corners of his lips, and I wondered if he could see what all that bare skin was doing to me. Then he tipped his head toward the hard sand closer to the water and said, “Shall we?”

“If you insist,” I grumbled, which made him laugh.

If I’d been honest with myself, I would’ve admitted that making him laugh had been the goal. His smiles always warmed me through, made me feel like I was somehow more special than I really was. If I could make a man like him enjoy his time with me, didn’t that mean I was precious and smart and funny?

Ridiculous and pathetic. But I couldn’t help it.

Jack jogged along the soft sand and led me to the dense, hard-packed wet stuff closer to the surf. By the time we got to the harder surface, I was already huffing and puffing. This did not bode well.

He took off at an easy lope, and I struggled along beside him. “We’ll run to the spit,” he said, pointing a chiseled arm toward a long, protruding piece of land covered in boulders. The ocean beyond it was dark gray, and birds circled above.

I nodded, gasping for breath.

“Norma,” Jack said with a bright smile, waving at an older woman powerwalking with ankle and wrist weights strapped to her limbs. She wore a matching pink sweatsuit.

“Jack! And your beautiful wife! What a day!”

“Couldn’t ask for any better,” he replied, winking at the old lady.

I garbled unintelligibly, struggling to breathe while my leg muscles burned. “This is torture,” I said when Norma had moved out of earshot.

“I thought you were into BDSM stuff,” Jack joked.

My breath was gone again, so all I could do was glare at him. We passed two elderly couples and one young woman jogging beside a tiny dog. She flashed a big smile at Jack, which he returned with a short wave.