I waited by the door, willing to do whatever it took to make it up to him. My man came in looking exhausted. But damn, even tired he worked that suit like no one else.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, rising on my tiptoes and giving him one hell of a smooch. He smiled against my lips.
“What’s this for?” he murmured.
“Umm... part of my wicked plan to make up for forgetting about how huge a deal Boston was.”
He skimmed his hands down to my waist, pressing me against him. “I like that plan.”
“Why didn’t you remind me?”
“I didn’t want to push you. You have a lot on your plate as it is.”
“Yes, but still. How did it go?”
“It was productive. We didn’t strike a deal, though. They’re tough negotiators, but so am I.”
“And don’t I know it.” I took his hand, drawing him deeper inside the house.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere I can put my wicked plan into action.”
“The bedroom?”
“Close. The Jacuzzi.”
He took me by the waist, walking in tandem. We probably looked ridiculous, trying to walk at the same pace while he was a head higher than me, but I loved the way he held me, as if he wanted as much contact as possible.
“What did you do?”
“I’ve been looking up jobs online and applied to some.”
“That’s my Josie, kicking ass. But why won’t you let me help?”
“I’m just... I’m not sure.”
“Before... all this, the engagement and the marriage, you used to tell me exactly what went through your mind. Now I get the feeling you’re filtering things. Why?”
My man was throwing all sorts of difficult questions at me, and I honestly had no answer. He did have a point, though.
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t like that there’s a part of you I can’t reach anymore. I don’t want you to hold back with me.”
I pouted. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be more open.”
He kissed the side of my neck, feathering his lips up to my ear. “Good. Because I want my wife back in her sunny disposition. You’ve been down long enough.”
Ouch. He was right, but still... ouch.
I wanted to be a better wife; at the moment, I just wasn’t sure how to go about it.
I didn’t sleep well that night, just tossed and turned for hours, thinking about us, about why I was now holding my cards to my chest.
As a friend, I’d talked his ear off about everything (including details he hadn’t wanted to know, I was sure of it). As his wife, it was as if I was afraid he might love me less if I laid out all my fears and insecurities.
When we woke up in the morning, we discovered the pipes in the kitchen had broken. As if we didn’t already have enough on our plate.