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“Nutella is God’s gift to chocolate lovers everywhere,” he began, his voice lower now, slower, more intimate – and she held her breath, mesmerized.

“Once you’ve tasted it, there is no going back.

It’s sweet, rich, but not overpowering… and completely unforgettable,” he whispered softly, his eyes holding hers as if afraid to blink and miss the truth reflected there.

Karen’s lungs burned, unable to breathe or move for fear of ruining the moment, that it would fade or disappear. She refused to budge an inch, unwilling to blink an eye, and dared not look away.

She couldn’t.

“Sometimes it hits you when you least expect it and think, ‘ Oh man, I really need a taste,’ and other times, you struggle against it, knowing that if you taste it – you are going to lose yourself in the container like an alcoholic diving into a bottle,” he continued, and there was something raw in his voice now, something almost trembling.

“That taste is exquisite, unmatched by anything, and that’s you. ”

Her throat tightened, emotion rising so fast and so sharp it nearly overwhelmed her.

She pulled in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, but there was no fighting the heat that swelled behind her eyes.

His gaze, deep brown and completely unguarded, pierced straight through every defense she had left.

And still, she didn’t look away. She couldn’t—not when his words reached every scar, every longing, every dream she’d hidden away.

“You are my Nutella – exquisite, unmatched, a gift from God, and sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted when I kissed your lips at our wedding.”

She swallowed hard, voice small, a whisper barely louder than the pounding in her chest. “You said that was barely a kiss…”

“I think if I kissed you for decades, it would never be enough.”

Her heart cracked open under the weight of those words. And there it was. All the love, all the longing, all the hope she’d tried so hard not to feel—suddenly alive, burning, and impossibly beautiful.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her voice trembling with urgency.

The words slipped out before she could think better of them, driven by a longing so sharp it hurt.

She needed this - him - more than she wanted to admit, and the vulnerability of it scared her senseless.

The second the words left her mouth, she braced herself, expecting the usual from him.

Some snide remark.

A teasing grin.

One of his smart-mouthed comebacks to defuse the tension and send them both skidding mentally onto safe ground.

But nothing came.

Jett said nothing.

The silence was more deafening than any clever remark he might have made, and her stomach twisted as she looked up into his face.

His eyes… they weren’t teasing now. They were dark, unreadable, turbulent like a storm about to break.

Something had shifted between them like a fault between two continents, sliding into place after so much friction.

When he reached for her hand, she jumped.

A soft gasp escaped her lips before she could catch it.

The touch of his fingers was electric, sparking through her like lightning.

Every nerve ending flared to life. Her breath hitched as he gently guided her hand to rest on his shoulder, her fingertips brushing the back of his neck.

The warmth of his skin beneath her touch made her dizzy.

He leaned in closer and Karen could barely breathe, her chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow bursts. It took everything in her not to fling herself at him like some unhinged fan backstage at a rock concert.

She had never felt so out of control - and he knew it.

“Shhh… it’s just us,” he whispered, his breath brushing against her lips like an unspoken promise. His voice was low, intimate, and it sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. “Is your heart beating like mine?”

His question knocked the breath from her lungs. Was it? She could barely think straight right now.

“Like I could race the Indy 500 - and win?” she managed to squeak out in a voice that sounded so unlike her - high, thin, barely there. It was honest, real, vulnerable in a way she would never dare let herself be before him.

She heard his soft chuckle in response and felt it too, right there where her fingers rested on him. That laughter, warm and quiet, somehow steadied her as her heart skipped a beat.

“So, it’s a photo finish then, huh?” His voice was rought, laced with tension of his own, and it made her chest tighten with emotions she didn’t dare name.

“Guess so.”

“Do you want me to wait?”

The question cracked through her shields like thunder.

“Oh gosh no,” she whispered in a horrified panic with wide eyes. Wait? No. Waiting would mean more thinking . More space for fear to creep in. No, she didn’t want time to think. She didn’t need more time to wait because her brain - her brain would simply start finding problems and…

His voice was soft between them, interrupting her skittish thoughts that were spiraling out of control quickly.

“Breathe.”

“I’m breathing.”

“I was talking to myself,” Jett said, letting out a nervous laugh that mirrored her own inner chaos. “Peptalk, you know? You drive me crazy and I want this to be good for you. It’s our first real kiss, after all.”

Her heart lurched.

She nearly crumpled right there.

He cared . He wanted it to be special between them.

“It’s good,” she blurted out, the words tumbling from her lips like a lifeline. “It’s good, I promise.”

“I haven’t kissed you yet,” he said gently, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it. Then, with a touch so light it almost broke her, he brushed his thumb against her lower lip, a touch full of reverence and wonder. “You have the most incredible smile that lights up the world.”

Karen’s breath caught in her throat at his words.

Her heart stuttered as if it couldn’t decide whether to race or stop entirely.

The way he looked at her—like she was something fragile and rare—undid every piece of strength she’d gathered to hold herself together.

She tried to smile, but it wobbled, her lips quivering with the emotion swelling inside her chest.

“You are killing me,” she said brokenly, her voice catching on the edge of a sob she didn’t realize she’d been holding in. Her entire body tensed, charged with anticipation and aching need. “Are you doing this on purpose or…”

And then he kissed her.

His lips brushed against hers with a tenderness that felt like it shattered something inside her—a barrier she hadn’t even realized she'd built.

The sensation of him overwhelmed her, not just the physical closeness but the emotional connection, the weight of something unspoken that had always existed between them.

It felt like the universe itself had quieted, just for this moment. Every sound wave aligned, every breath in perfect synchronicity. It was a harmony only their hearts could hear, and it sang of destiny, of belonging… of home .

He adjusted the angle of his mouth slightly, and she followed his lead—tasting him, learning him, matching the rhythm of his hunger with her own.

Kissing Jett wasn’t a simple act.

It was an experience , an event , a cosmic alignment that demanded recognition. If there were justice in the world, this kiss would be a holiday, a national celebration with fireworks and fanfare. It was that extraordinary.

She reached for him without thinking, one hand sliding up to the nape of his neck, fingers curling into the softness of his hair, while the other drifted to his side, yearning to pull him closer.

She needed more—more of him, more of this feeling that she never wanted to lose.

And he responded in kind, shifting her effortlessly until she was beneath him, her back against the cushions, cradled securely in his arms. He moved with intent, the kiss deepening, and then she felt his hand on the hem of her shirt?—

And just like that, everything stopped.

Jett pulled back sharply. A sharp, sudden tension coiled through him, and she immediately opened her eyes to find him frozen above her, his expression twisted in pain. His eyes were pinched shut, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, and a deep crease had settled between his brows.

Her heart lurched. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Is your head hurting? Did I do something wrong?” Her questions tumbled out in a panicked rush, fear lacing her voice.

What had she missed?

What had she broken?

“Go to your room – and lock the door,” he whispered, his voice strained and tight, his eyes still closed. “It’s been a long day, and neither of us is ready for what comes next.”

Confusion gripped her.

“What do you mean?”

“Nutella, get that sexy butt into the bedroom, lock the door, and go to sleep. I’m gonna go hit the gym downstairs, take a cold shower before bed.”

She blinked.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“I’m not ‘putting out’ on our first date,” he chuckled, but it was a soft, disbelieving sound, as if even he couldn’t believe what he was saying. “And I can’t believe I’m the one saying that .”

“Oh,” she whispered, startled by the rush of warmth that followed. Not from embarrassment or rejection—but because of what it meant. His restraint wasn’t distance or dismissal.

It was respect.

They were married, but he needed more between them and was the one saying ‘No’ this time. He was doing this for her and protecting them both from something too fast, too soon. And maybe… maybe that meant he was beginning to care about her or was starting to feel something?

Her gaze softened as she waited. He cracked open one eye, just barely, then groaned and shut it again.

“Freshly-kissed-wifey is my new favorite thing to look at,” he said hoarsely – and shivered, pinching his eyes shut once more. “You’re torturing me because I know you are giving me that hot, sultry, little smug smile… aren’t you?”

A smile broke across her face, small and sincere at his reaction with an awareness. He cleared his throat and then spoke, almost like he was nervous - cracking an eye open again.

“I know you’ve been exploring the town,” he began quietly. “How about we go on our coffee date, and you can show me around your favorite place so far.”

The gentleness in his voice undid her.

“So I can show off my gorgeous husband?” she whispered, emboldened to use his words, twisting them, simply by the way he reacted to their kiss.

There was power in this newfound connection, and she let her breath ghost over him, just enough to make him shiver again. “The other guys are sooo mediocre .”

She was teasing him, using his words.

Karen felt his broken laugh more than she heard it, the sound breaking from his chest with an almost desperate edge. He pulled back, curling up on the opposite end of the couch like a man escaping a dangerous flame, flinging an arm over his face in surrender.

“I can’t believe I’m even doing this,” he practically wailed in dismay, the rawness in his voice scraping against her heart. “I’m trying to be the nice guy, the good guy, to do the right thing for us… and I would really prefer my wife to fall for me before we sleep together.”

Karen stilled at his words.

They hung between them like a white flag of surrender - and awareness.

He was trying to do right by her but hadn’t said that he loved her.

She was afraid to admit her feelings because he might not feel the same.

Love and lust were two different things – she just was unsure what part he was feeling.

Doubt crept in—if he wasn’t ready, would he ever feel that way toward her?

Her silence felt like self-preservation.

Instead of telling him how she felt, she rose slowly from the couch, her limbs heavy with reluctance. She walked to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to look back.

Jett had moved – instead of curled in the corner of the couch, he was sitting there, silent. His expression torn and so full of emotion. He sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, his forehead resting on clenched fists like a man fighting a war no one else could see – not even her.

“Good night, Nutella,” he said simply, and her heart clenched at the affection buried in the nickname. “Sweet dreams – and thank you for this evening.”

She stood there a moment longer, wishing the night could stretch forever… and hesitated.

“Good night, husband,” she began and heard his strangled groan of dismay. With that, she closed the door behind her—giving them both the space he thought they needed, even if her heart already knew what it wanted. She was willing to wait for Jett – for his love.

“See you tomorrow,” she whispered into the silence, listening to his footsteps as he abruptly left the condo to go work out his frustrations.