Page 17 of The Last Love Story (Baker Girls #3)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JADE

I need to get out of bed.

Everything was cozy and peaceful until I woke up, looked down at my hand, and remembered I’m married.

Not that it’s a bad thing, but… there’s someone else in my apartment.

Other than Zoey and Trish staying over on occasion after a little too much wine, I’ve never woken up to someone else being in my space.

I don’t know what to do or what to say. Is he a night owl or an early riser? Am I going to be disturbing his routine? Are we going to chat or pass by each other like ships in the night?

Maybe I should get up and figure it out.

How shocking that I’m overthinking this.

With a deep breath, I force myself out of the bed and throw on a cute cropped tee and some thick biker-style shorts.

I open my door quietly and try to avoid the squeaky spots in the hallway in case Justin is sleeping, but when I get out there, I find him in the kitchen, looking through the refrigerator.

“Morning.”

He closes the door and smiles at me. “Morning, darlin’.”

We stare at each other for a moment, and the awkwardness in my gut makes my skin crawl.

“Sleep okay?” I ask, but it comes out squeaky.

His smile grows. “Great. That’s a comfortable couch.”

“It is,” I agree.

But when he turns his back to me and heads for the coffeepot, I frown.

I didn’t think a second of this through—actually living with him. We’re going to be married for at least six months. Will he sleep on the couch the entire time? That seems weird.

And terrible to ask of him. Maybe it’s comfortable for a few nights, but six months? He deserves better than that.

Maybe we could squeeze a twin bed in the extra room. Not much, but it would be better than the couch.

Is it wrong that I wouldn’t mind having him in my bed? A wife wanting to sleep next to her husband… crazy, right?

“How strong do you like your coffee?”

My gaze snaps to Justin, and I relax a little. Figure out the logistics later.

“Lorelai Gilmore strong.”

He grins at me. “My kind of girl.”

Am I? Could I be? We have chemistry, there’s no denying that. And he’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known. He’s willing to do a lot to make me happy, but does that mean… we could be something?

Everything has been so upside down and backward that I don’t know what I’m doing or thinking.

But I know I like being around him, so I need to chill out and focus on that.

“I was thinking of making some pancakes. Sound good?” he asks .

My brow furrows and I open the refrigerator, surprised to find it stocked with food.

“Did you go shopping?” I ask, confused.

He chuckles and hands me a Post-it.

“Apparently, Papa Jackson was busy before he flew out to Vegas.”

Jade,

Figured you’d need some food in your fridge when you got home.

Love ya.

Dad

That’s Dad. Always going several steps above and beyond. Flying out to Vegas to surprise me? Cool, just a quick stop at the store to stock my fridge first.

My mom was an absentee parent at best, but my dad more than made up for it.

I turn back to Justin. “Pancakes sound great. Interested in an omelet on the side?”

“Sounds delicious.”

He starts opening cabinets and looking around for the mixing bowls. I almost tell him where they are, but I kind of like the look of him bending over and rummaging through the cabinets. It’s almost like he belongs here.

Plus, the way he smiles when he finds what he’s looking for is utterly adorable.

“Okay if I put on some music?”

He turns and looks at me with an amused smirk. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re one of those people who likes to do things in complete silence.”

He laughs as he spins the lazy Susan and pulls out some of the dry ingredients for pancakes. “ Definitely not.”

I connect my phone to the Bluetooth speaker, then pause again.

“Any requests?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

I scoff at that. “If I pick, it’ll be all Taylor Swift.”

“I don’t care.” He squints at me. “Should I care?”

“No. I just want to be considerate of what you like.”

“Listen to what you enjoy, Jade. I’m not here to control you. Just like with watching TV shows together, I want to know what music you enjoy. What songs bring you to life. Plus, I’m man enough to admit that I love Queen Tay Tay. So put it on.”

I swallow hard. “Okay.”

I settle on a playlist of some of my favorite Taylor Swift songs, then go back to the fridge and pull out the eggs and cheese.

“You like veggies in your omelet?” I ask.

Dad really stocked the fridge. There are mushrooms, peppers, onions, asparagus, and fresh spinach.

“Sure. I’m a kitchen sink kinda guy. Throw it all in.”

“I can do that.”

We settle in, Justin making pancakes and me prepping the omelet.

This was a stupid job for me though, because holding a knife is one of those fun tasks that makes my hand tingly, achy, and numb.

Which must be why I keep stopping and sneaking glances at Justin.

He occasionally whisper-sings along with the words and is constantly bouncing back and forth or even dancing.

God, why does everything he do make me feel all… swoony?

I’m a swooning mess over my husband.

Fake husband.

I think.

At this point, I know less than Jon Snow.

Turning back to the cutting board in front of me, I get back to it, hating the ache that quickly builds .

When Justin starts singing along with Love Story , my eyes are instantly drawn to him again.

A little too drawn to him.

“Shit.”

The knife clatters to the cutting board as my heartbeat pounds in my ears. Almost sliced my fingertip off because I was looking at Justin and not at what I was cutting.

Could I blame my carpal tunnel? Probably. But it would be a lie.

Justin’s at my side in a second. “Are you okay?”

I nod. “Yeah. The knife just slipped. I’m good.”

But he doesn’t seem to believe me, because he takes my hand in his and looks it over carefully.

My hand tingles being wrapped in his. As if my body’s on autopilot, I move closer.

His gaze goes from my hand to my face, and he stares at me for a moment, my hand still cupped in his.

“It looks okay.”

Swallowing hard, I nod, eyes still locked on him as Taylor Swift boisterously tells us we should say yes… to whatever this is between us.

His Adam’s apple bobs and he steps back, letting my hand slowly drop.

“Be careful. Don’t need you cutting off any fingers now. Those hands need to stay intact.”

I give a little nod and a small smile as he turns back to the stove.

But all I can think is that I want his presence back. I want his attention on me again.

Falling for him might be a risk, but not falling for him seems like an impossibility.

“Can I guess who Evvie ends up with?”

“No. No spoilers. But I guess… you can read book eight.”

His eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yes. I’d love to be able to talk about it with you, but I want to see your reaction as you read it first. Unspoiled.”

“Scouts honor. I won’t read ahead.”

We’re still sitting at the kitchen table, though our plates and mugs are empty. We’ve just been talking. Not about anything big, but lots of little things. An easy conversation.

“I like the idea of having someone to talk about it all with. I mean, I have Zoey and Trish, but it’s different. You’re… here. God, that sounds so stupid.”

He reaches across the table and rests his hand over mine, and there’s that tingly feeling again. Like sparks bursting out of my hand and dancing up my arm.

“It doesn’t sound stupid. You want someone to share your art with in a personal way. Not because of the art itself, but because of how it makes you feel.”

I stare at him because that’s all I can do. He’s exactly right.

I don’t want to share it with him as an author to another author or reader. I want to share it with him as my partner.

On paper, that’s what we are, but in reality… I have no idea what we’re doing.

But with his hand on mine and his eyes filled with tenderness, it’s hard not to see flashes of what we could be.

Justin turns off the TV after our episode of Once Upon a Time.

We watched The Mandalorian first, and I’m really enjoying it so far. It’s got just enough of the classic Star Wars vibes I like while still being its own interesting, unique story .

“What do you think so far?”

“When do Snow and Charming find each other again? When does the curse get broken? Who hurt Regina? I need to know all the things.”

I give him a sweet smile. “Sorry. My no spoilers rule extends beyond my books.”

He groans. “Fine. But next rainy day, I foresee a binge watch.”

“I won’t complain.”

“Hopefully not too soon though. I want to enjoy that park more. It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” We went for a walk around it today, then drove around the tiny town portion of Woods Junction. “On the far side of the park, there are a few more walking trails. And the other end actually has a little path that connects it to the main part of town.”

“That’s would be cool. I’d love to explore the town more. Really get to know it.”

“Do you like it so far?”

I don’t know why I’m desperate for the answer to be yes. He was planning to move to Ida, and when all is said and done, that’s probably where he’ll end up.

“Yeah, I do. The coffee and bookstore you took me to was cute, and the people were friendly. I want to go full Gilmore Girls and immerse myself in the town, though. Go for a walk, chat with people, maybe stop by that tiny diner.”

“We could go there for breakfast tomorrow. The walking path leads right there.”

“That would be awesome.”

I smile at him, but it quickly turns into a yawn.

“You should get some sleep.” Then he catches my yawn. “I should too.”

“Right. And I’m sitting on your bed.”

I hop up, cringing at how that sounded.

Glancing at the couch, my heart lurches. Seriously, how long do I make him sleep there?

What’s the alternative ?

I hate this uncertainty and how weird it makes me feel.

I throw my thumb over my shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything.”

He’s already making up his bed on the couch.

“Will do.”

I stand there awkwardly, staring at him.

“Well… I, uh… sleep well. Goodnight.”

Then I turn and scurry toward my bedroom as he calls after me. “Goodnight.”

Once in the safety of my bedroom, I collapse on my bed and rub my hands over my face.

Why did no one warn me that a marriage of convenience isn’t always convenient? Sometimes it’s weird, complicated, and downright awkward, and that’s leaving out the tension that forms every time we’re in a room together.

I’m not sure if I want to kiss him or jump him or declare him mine forever. But I’m certain if we keep going like this, one way or another, that tension between us is going to keep growing until it explodes.