Page 71 of My Husband Problem

I shake my head, which causes my cheek to rub against his palm. Which causes a cascade of sparks to shower through me from my cheek through my pussy to the soles of my feet. “No, of course not. I left because I thought it would help me breathe. But…” I shouldn’t tell him this. But he seems so worried. So I take a breath and say, “I was wrong. I liked breathing your air.”

His eyes flare with heat and…relief?

“But you’re happy here?” he presses.

“Very.”

“So I’ll just move here. We can share the air here.”

My heart turns over in my chest. If only it was that easy.

“Being with me is very complicated.”

“I don’t care. I’m very good at complicated.”

“Is this marriage what you want it to be?” I ask. “If things stay just like they have been, but you live here, is that really what you want?” Then I find myself holding my breath. I want him to know that I’m talking about sex—or rather, no sex—without me saying it.

And in that moment, I realize that I don’t want him to want our marriage as it is—on paper only, just to make his grandfather happy.

But if he says that he wants more, I’m in big trouble.

Because I’m going to have to admit I haven’t seen a human penis in a very long time, and I’m not sure that I can even do anything fun with it if he wants to show me his.

“This is definitely not what I want it to be,” he tells me, his voice gruff.

“Because?” I ask.

Because now he has to be here in Louisiana in the heat and humidity dealing with ducks and otters and?—

“Because I’m crazy about you.”

My windpipe feels like it just constricted, and I can’t take a breath. I stare at him.

Of all the things I thought he might say, that wasn’t even on the list.

Clearly reading my shock, he brushes his thumb over my jaw. “I think you’re incredible. I have for a long time, but even more so since I’ve gotten to know you better. And,” he takes a breath. “Even more since I’ve been in Rebel.”

I laugh, a little hysterically. “It’s beenone day!”

He shrugs. “I like your neighbors. And your ducks, and hissy cat, and ugly-but-not-ugly house, and crazy hockey team. I can stay here. With you. Happily.”

Forcing air into lungs that have forgotten how to work is painful, but I do it and say, “You weren’t supposed to likeanyof that.”

“I’m not sorry.” He gives me a little smile.

I press my lips together and shake my head. “Nothing about you being here has been what I’ve expected.”

“Good.”

I let out a soft breath of laughter. He still hasn’t mentioned sex.

But maybe that doesn’t matter.

How can it not matter, though?

“You don’t actually know what you’re getting into. Not after just one day,” I say.

“Maybe not. But now I do know somethingveryimportant.”