“But can we really say we’re happily married before we participate in some aggressive cuddling…”
“Aggressive cuddling? Where do you come up with these things?”
“I know how to Google like nobody’s business.”
“Well, I guess someone in the family has to have Google fu.”
“It’s me.” She snuggled into his side, smiling at the camera. After he’d clicked, she said, “You need to send me that so I can send it to my mom. She’ll want to send your face to the FBI and make sure you’re not really a mass murderer.”
“What if I had plastic surgery and changed my face?” he asked.
Sydney shrugged. “Then I guess I’m dead.”
“But if we do the horizontal polka first, you’ll die happy?”
“That’s my assumption, but since I’ve never done it, there’s no telling.”
“Never huh?”
“Nope. You’ll be the first to bring your al dente spaghetti to my spaghetti factory.”
“I’m going to lock you out of the internet when we get home.”
“That might be wise.” Sydney couldn’t believe he was just now figuring out she shouldn’t have internet access. He was definitely right.
Jackson put his arm around her shoulders as they walked down the trail. “You need to stop worrying about what we’re doing.”
“I’ll do my very best.”
When they got back to the apartment, she immediately showered and changed, joining him back in the living room. “We’re not cooking tonight.”
“Do we ever cook?” he asked.
“Not yet, but I’m sure we will eventually. Do you want to order in or go out?”
“Maybe we could just get fast food tonight. I don’t even feel like doing anything more than that.”
“You go pick it up, and I’ll set the table.”
“Why are we setting the table for fast food?” Sometimes she made absolutely no sense to him.
“I’m an eccentric. It’s what makes me special.”
“I see that. What do you want?”
“Subway? Spitfire Smokehouse? Burger King?” She rattled off the choices there in town.
“Oh, Spitfire Smokehouse sounds good. What do you want?” he asked. He’d never eaten there, but he missed barbecue at times.
She gave him her order and watched him go, not even a little surprised that he didn’t ask her for directions. For some reason, people didn’t seem to like her directions, but that was because they were all crazy.
While he was gone, she set the table and put a candle in the middle. They were married, and she was allowed to romance him.
When Jackson got back, he grinned at all the lights being out, a candle lit in the middle of the table, and their finest paper plates set out. She made him laugh, and he felt a little more for her every day. Even as he thought it, he felt his stomach clench. He couldn’t fall in love again. He just couldn’t.
He sat down at the table, thinking about turning the lights back on, but not willing to hurt her feelings. He divvied up their food and began eating in mostly silence.
“So…if you could be a were-animal, what kind of animal would you be?” she asked.
“Are there were-animals other than wolves?” Jackson was sure she had to be making it up.
“Oh, sure. You must not read modern romance.”
“Well, no…”
“So? Think about it. What kind of animal?” Sydney wasn’t going to let him off the hook. She wanted to know as much as she could about him.
“Anything?” he asked. He was uncertain about her question, but he wanted to answer.
“Were-dragon. Is that a thing?”
She nodded emphatically. “Oh, yeah, it’s a super-popular subgenre of romance.”
“Romance readers are strange people.”
“I don’t deny it.”
“What kind of were-animal would you be?” he asked.
“I think I’d want to be a were-bunny. Would be fun to be able to disappear with no warning.” She grinned at him. “I would be the hide-and-seek champion of the world! And I could sneak up on people doing bad things at the park.”
“Yeah, I can see that. You would be amazing.” She was amazing at a lot of things. He shook his head. He would need to put off sex forever. As soon as they were intimate, he knew he would fall for her, and that was the last thing he needed. But the draw was stronger every day. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist if she started kissing him again. Maybe he should quit showering so she would be repulsed by him.
When it was time for bed that night, she wore a tank top and a pair of shorts. It was hot, and she didn’t feel like she should wear anything hot. Jackson was already in bed when she climbed in beside him, and he immediately closed his eyes. He couldn’t see her that way and not want more than he was willing to have.
“You okay?” she asked. She’d never seen him avoid looking at her that way. Was he angry?
He nodded, not even opening his eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Did I do something to offend you?” She couldn’t figure out what his problem was.
“No. Not at all.”
Sydney knew he was lying. She could hear it in his tone of voice. “All right.” She turned her back to him and faced the wall on her side of the bed. “G’night.”
He looked over at her for the first time since she’d entered in the room, frowning. “Are you upset with me?”
She shook her head, a silent tear floating down her cheek and into her pillow. She had no idea what she’d done wrong, but she knew it was something.
He moved up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. His need to make her feel better was stronger than his need to keep from falling in love with her. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He heard the tear in her voice and wanted to kick himself. “For acting strangely.”
“Then you admit you acted strange! Are you angry with me?”
“No, I’m not. I just saw how good you looked and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep my hands off you, so I closed my eyes.”
She sniffed once more. “I don’t understand. I just wore this because it’s hot, and I didn’t want to be hot.”
“I understand, but you’re wearing so little that I couldn’t help but…want you.”
She turned toward him, her hand going to his cheek. “What exactly are we waiting for? I mean, I know you don’t want to just jump with both feet into sex, but…we’re married. We both want children. Is there a reason to wait?”
He gulped, looking into her eyes. “Probably not. It’s stubborn pride. I feel like I need to wait a little longer, but…I don’t want to.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. “Then don’t.”
One more deep breath, trying to control his urges, and he gave in. “I don’t think I can.”
Jackson crept out of bed before Sydney woke up the next morning, heading straight for the shower, where he berated himself repeatedly. He had loved his time with her. More than he could express, but he’d been right about it cementing his feelings for her. He was in love, and there was no going back now.
When Sydney woke up alone in bed, she stared at his indention in the pillow for a moment, before sitting up and wrapping her arms around her naked body. Last night had been incredible. Jackson was a tender, sweet lover, and she wanted nothing more than to make love with him again and again. But…he seemed happier to be away from her.
He was still trying to keep from falling in love with her, and it was obvious. She sighed. Her mother had always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Maybe it was time to test that theory. She could cook, whether she hated it or not. She would make him a Mexican feast with sour cream chicken enchiladas, homemade refried beans, tortillas made from scratch, and Mexican rice. He would either fall for her, or he would be happy that he hadn’t had to eat out for a change.
It probably wasn’t a good idea
to admit she could cook so early in their marriage, but if she wanted him to love her, she really had no choice.
After he got out of the bathroom, she went in, taking her turn in the shower. Dressing, she met him in the living room. “Let’s go out for breakfast, and I’m going to need to grocery shop. I feel like cooking tonight, and I can only cook well when I want to.”
He looked at her curiously for a minute before nodding. “All right. Are we going to Debbie’s for breakfast again?”
She shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”
That afternoon, he left to find some things he needed for his office, while she cooked. When he returned home, he stopped in the doorway, amazed at the smells coming from their kitchen. “Sydney?” Jackson called.
“In here,” she said, wiping some sweat off her brow. The air conditioning couldn’t keep up with the intense heat of the stove combined with the hot weather.
“Dinner smells amazing. What are you making?” he asked.
“Just some Mexican stuff that I love. Don’t worry. It should be edible.”
He frowned for a moment, looking at her. “Do you need any help?”
“Nope. Go put all your goodies away. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”
He nodded, leaving the kitchen, wondering what she was up to now. The woman always kept him guessing, and he was still trying to decide if that was a good thing.
When Sydney called him to dinner a short while later, he stood gaping at the table. The enchiladas looked like they’d come from the finest Mexican restaurant in Texas. He looked at the refried beans, wanting to dip his finger in them and see if they tasted as good as they looked.
“The tortillas look fresh. Is there a tortilla factory near here?”
She laughed. “I made those from scratch.”
“Wow.” He sat down, reaching for food to fill his plate before he did anything else. His little wife was so full of surprises, she should be a gift shop. He took his first bite of the enchiladas and closed his eyes to savor the taste. “This is absolutely amazing. Why don’t you cook more often?”
“I only cook well when I’m in the mood,” she repeated. “Don’t expect this every night.”
“Oh, I won’t.” He took a forkful of the beans and sighed with happiness. “This is better than the best Mexican restaurant in Texas. Are you half-Mexican?”
“Sure, aren’t all blondes?” She winked at him, pleased that he was reacting the way she’d expected to the food. “I made sopapillas for dessert. They’re in the oven staying warm.”
“Sopapillas? Who taught you to cook this way?”
“I told you about my friend who lived here? She not only made me tacos, she taught me to cook. You’ll have to try my enchilada soup someday. I could eat it for every meal, if it didn’t mean I had to cook it for every meal.”
“I’m starting to understand. You love to eat, but you hate to cook. I’ve got it.”
“That’s right.”
After they’d polished off every drop of food on the table and eaten the sopapillas, she got up to clear the table.
“I should clean up because you cooked.”
She shook her head. “Nope. This dinner is my wedding gift to you. Any other time I cook, I will expect you to clean up. Just not tonight.”
“I feel like I’ve been given an enormous gift!”
Sydney grinned. “You have. Don’t get used to it.” She efficiently loaded the dishwasher and wiped off the counters. “There, dishes done.”
She took his hand and led him into the living room, sitting close to him on the couch. “Do you ever watch television?”
He nodded. “Sometimes. I prefer to binge shows on Netflix though.”
“Me too! What are you currently watching?”
“I’m trying to catch up on Arrow.”
“I’m a season behind! Where are you?”
He grinned. “About a season behind.”
She picked up her remote and handed it to him. “Don’t get used to holding the remote either. I’m pampering you tonight, and it just isn’t going to happen often.”
“Works for me.” He took the remote and quickly found the show on Netflix, sliding his arm around her shoulders as they both watched it.
He found he couldn’t concentrate on the show. Her aroma—mostly Mexican spices at this point—was intoxicating. Instead of watching, he kept replaying their lovemaking in his mind, wondering if it would be too soon to drag her off to bed.
Finally, halfway through the show, he didn’t care what was okay. He shut the show off and dragged her into the bedroom. “I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered, his hand moving under her hair to hold her head in place as he kissed her passionately.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
A while later, she laid in his arms, exhausted beyond belief. She couldn’t help but wonder if it had been the Mexican food that had made him so interested in her, but she wouldn’t ask. Feelings were such a touchy subject between them.
After a little while, he started talking. “Paisley and I met playing an online game. We both loved the multi-user games, and I fell for her sweet voice while she told me to murder an ice elemental. After months and months of just talking as friends, I agreed to fly to New York to meet her. I was still living in Texas at the time.”
“Okay…” Sydney wasn’t sure why he was suddenly opening up to her, but she couldn’t be upset about it. It’s what she’d wanted for a while.
“So after meeting her, I knew she was the girl for me, but we took things slow. It took me three years to ask her to marry me and eventually move to New York, with my mother screaming that I’d be murdered in my sleep the whole time.”
She laughed softly. “Kind of sounds like my mother.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I moved there, and it wasn’t two weeks later that she was killed by a hit-and-run driver. I remember how devastated I felt. I never thought I’d be able to crawl out of the hole I found myself in. I loved her with everything inside of me, and suddenly she was gone.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“All I can think about when I’m with you is how awful it felt to be in that position. I couldn’t go through that again and actually survive. I truly believe I would die of a broken heart if it all happened again. So…I can’t form that kind of attachment to you. We can make love. We can have children. We can spend every waking moment together. But I can’t love you the way I loved Paisley.”
Sydney wanted to crawl under the bed and die. “Why did you agree to marry someone if you knew you felt that way?”
“I honestly didn’t think there was any way Dr. Lachele could find me someone that I would want to love. I figured it would be easy to keep my heart separate from the marriage, but you really are a good match for me. I want to love you, but I just can’t let my guard down enough to do it. Does that make sense?”
The tears were streaming down her face as she nodded. It did make sense. And it broke her heart.
Chapter 8
By Monday when she was back at work, Sydney was convinced that her marriage was doomed. On her way to work, she called Dr. Lachele, needing some advice.
The phone was answered on the first ring. “Dr. Lachele.”
“Hey, Dr. Lachele. This is Sydney.”
“Sydney! My favorite newest bride! How are things in Moab?”
“I’m not sure. Jackson is obviously still in love with Paisley, his fiancée who died. He’s afraid to open up to me. He pretty much told me that his biggest fear in life is that he’ll fall in love with me and lose me like he did her.”
There was a brief pause. “I’m not surprised. Did he tell you the whole story?”
“He did. How am I supposed to compete with a ghost?”
“You’re not competing with her, sugar butt. You’re helping him to get past her.”
“But how?”
Dr. Lachele sighed. “By being there for him. Let him talk about her if he needs to. I thin
k he should have gone to counseling after she died, but he didn’t, and he fell into a hole. Now, he’s ready to move on, but he really doesn’t know how to do it. You need to help him.”
“But…”
“No buts, dear. Not unless it’s your sugar butt.” Dr. Lachele laughed hysterically for a moment while Sydney waited. “Seriously, just be kind, and he’ll come around.”
“I’m not sure he can.” Sydney’s words were soft, but heartfelt. She was convinced he would never be able to open up enough to love her.
“Have you two done the deed yet?”
“Yes, we have, but I’m not sure that has anything to do with anything.”
“It does. Trust me. If he feels strongly enough about you to open up physically, then emotionally is just behind.”
Sydney thought for a moment, and then asked the other question that was on her mind. “Jackson keeps saying something about you having the ability to grant wishes. What do you know about that?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny. I’m not talking about my role with the Guild of Godmothers at the moment.”
“Jackson mentioned the Guild of Godmothers…”
“It’s a secret society, and you don’t get to know anything about it. The end.” Dr. Lachele muted her for a moment. “Oh, I’ve got to go! My ten o’clock is here.”
“But, wait!” Sydney realized the line had gone dead. What was with that crazy woman?
Sydney had to deal with a lot of ridiculous people at work that day—and they weren’t all the park visitors. Every time she turned around, one of her co-workers was asking her about her new husband. It was like someone had taken out a notice in skywriting that she’d finally tied the knot.
“Hey, Syd. Heard about the old man. What does he do?” Aaron, one of the park rangers, asked.
“He’s a graphic artist.” Sydney kept working as she answered the question, because it was the fifteenth time she’d heard the same question that day.
“Well, you should have married a fellow ranger. We were all just waiting for you to close your eyes and point.”
Maybe in Moab Page 7
