Page 64 of Six Month Wife

I can’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. He’s so easy to talk to. And despite all the stress around me right now, I can’t deny that Parker has a way of making things a little lighter.

“Okay, fine. I’ll head over,” I say, my tone already softening. “Give me a minute to make sure Sue is good.”

“Perfect,” he responds, his voice warm and amused.

He sounds like a kid in a candy store. At least this doesn't seem like a crisis. I could use a happy favor.

“I’ll let you know,” I say into the phone, then hang up and glance around the store.

Two tables are occupied, which isn't a full house, but it brings energy.

A woman wearing noise-canceling headphones and writing furiously in a journal sits at one table, and the other is a couple splitting an acai bowl and whispering like it’s classified.

The juicer’s clean, the product shelves are dusted, and the POS drawer's balanced. Everything’s… fine.

Sue’s wiping down the cold-press station with practiced efficiency, humming something vaguely country under her breath. I cross to her, trying to gauge her mood.

“Hey, would you be okay holding down the fort solo for a little while?”

She straightens, flicking a glance at the clock, then at me. “Sure.” She offers a small, knowing smile, making me think that maybe she expected this.

“If you're sure, I've got to meet Parker at the hospital. He was being cryptic, but I don't think I'll be long.”

“Take all the time you need,” she says, nodding toward the mostly empty seating area. “I think I can handle the impulse adaptogen emergencies.”

“Appreciate it.” I offer a grateful smile, already pulling out my phone.

She tosses the towel over her shoulder. “You’ve got that look.”

I pause. “What look?”

Sue arches a brow. “The ‘I’m about to walk into something I’ll regret but do it anyway’ look.”

I laugh under my breath. “Well. At least I’m consistent.”

She grins. “Go. I’ll man the store and prep for any essential oil-related crises. I should still be able to finish my inventory if it gets slow, too.”

She acts like I'll be gone for a week. Hopefully, this is a quick stop to see what Parker has up his sleeve, and I'll be back in less than an hour.

As I step outside, the coastal breeze hits me. I text Parker.

On my way. This better be good. I had to pull Sue off inventory.

He replies a second later.

Oh, it’ll be good.

Another follows immediately after.

I'll meet you in the parking lot. East wing.

I don’t know if he’s planning to pull me into a supply closet and ruin my underwear again. Or if he’s about to drop some clause-bomb from our not-so-real marriage that’ll make my stomach bottom out.

Either way, I’m walking into it completely unarmed and unprepared.

18

Parker