Page 12 of The Marriage Mistake

Darby looked at Jack. Jack looked at her, then at me.

Then Darby told me, “‘Stupid’ is one dollar for the swear jar, by the way.” She looked at her dad. “I don’t have to pay because I was only repeating it.”

I turned for the door and paused. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed the broom from Darby’s hands, then marched to the door and threw it open. Pausing at the top of the three concrete steps, I scanned the lawn and the closest trees. No sign of the raccoon, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Holding the broom in front of me like a spear, I hurried down the steps and sprinted to my car. My shoulder blades prickled as I fumbled with my keys and finally got the passenger door unlocked and opened. I glanced over my shoulder half a dozen times, twisting awkwardly as I got the glove compartment open and ripped out my small first-aid kit.

Still no raccoon.

Slamming the car door, I tucked the little red pouch under one arm and held the broom in the other hand, and I ran for my life for the kitchen door.

Darby and Jack were right where I’d left them. I closed the door with a gusted breath, leaned the broom against the wall, and marched toward Jack. “Sink,” I ordered, waving the red pouch toward the stainless steel sink.

Jack’s brow arched, a smile playing over his lips. “Darbs, go get your jacket. We’d better go get these rabies shots, or Ember won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“I know you’re joking, but do you know how the symptoms of rabies progress?” I asked, shoving aside broken bottles of spices so I could put the first-aid kit down on a clear patch of countertop.

Jack settled beside me, his hip leaning against the edge of the sink. “No, but it sounds like you want to tell me.”

I grabbed nitrile gloves and snapped them onto my wrists, not meeting his gaze. I grabbed a little pair of scissors from my kit and started slicing through the scotch tape he’d wrapped around his arm. Ridiculous. How this man had taken care of a daughter on his own when this was how he took care of himself, I would never know. I ripped the tape off his arm hair and didn’t even feel bad when he let out a startled yelp. “First, you might feel fatigued. You’ll get a fever, have a headache. The area of the bite might tingle. By then, it’s too late.”

I used my elbow to turn on the water and shoved his arm under the spray. “The symptoms progress to the acute phase, when you become agitated, hyperactive, confused, and suffer hallucinations. Most horrifying is the hydrophobia. The fear of water. You become severely dehydrated, but you’re terrified of water. Your throat convulses any time you try to drink. Your confusion and fear increase rapidly.”

Using the hand soap sitting on the edge of the sink, I washed Jack’s bite, ignoring the way the warmth of his arm soaked through the gloves and the way his muscles shifted and tensed as I touched him.

“Then what?” he asked. He stood very still, leaning against the sink, his chest just a few inches from my face. His arm was extended in front of me, and my shoulder kept brushing his biceps. He was too close. His breath ruffled over my neck every time he exhaled.

“Then your muscles gradually become paralyzed, you fall into a coma, and you die.” I rinsed his wound and used some sterile gauze from my pack to pat it dry. When I tried to put a big bandage on the bite, my gloves stuck to the adhesive, so I grimaced, took them off, and smoothed the white fabric tape over his arm. My fingertips brushed his warm skin, sending little shivers darting up my arms. He still stood too close.

His hum vibrated in my bones, and I made the mistake of looking up. The arm I’d just tended to shifted, his palm pressing against the counter beside my stomach. The heat of it seared me, even though I wore a thick sweater and a shirt underneath. His eyes caught me in their snare, and I found myself unable to look away.

“I don’t think I’ve met anyone quite like you,” he mused, studying me.

I lifted my chin, trying not to feel offended. “I’m an actuary. It’s my job to assess risk and quantify it. As you can imagine, anything with a hundred percent mortality rate makes an impact.”

Jack hummed, his lips curling with amusement. A slight dimple appeared in his cheek, and then he shifted slowly, so slowly, to lift his uninjured arm toward me. His fingertips brushed my temple, pushing my hair off my face as I stood there, trembling, on fire.

“Thank you for taking care of my daughter earlier,” he murmured. “Even if you were just doing it because of the mortality rate of rabies.” He grinned. Still mocking me. “And thank you for taking care of me.”

I harrumphed. My heart rate hadn’t been steady since I parked outside Etta Mars’s mansion all those hours ago, and I knew that now, its erratic beat wasn’t due to the raccoon. It was the other beast in the kitchen, the one I was married to. Almost married to.

The clomp of heavy feet on hundred-year-old floorboards made us both turn. Darby had a jacket bundled in her arms and sneakers on her feet. She paused, frowning at us. “Why do you guys look so weird?”

I skittered away from her father. “I always look like this,” I blurted.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Jack turn to look at me, and I pointedly did not meet his gaze. Darby gave me a look so steeped in sass that only a young teenager could pull it off. She snorted, crossed to the door, scanned the surroundings for (I assumed) a rabid raccoon, then pushed her way outside.

When I followed, Jack called out, “Where are you going?”

I spun around in the doorway, frowning at him. “I’m driving you to the hospital.”

“I can drive, Ember. I have a minor wound. I’m not going to go into a coma in the next hour.”

“Your adrenaline probably spiked during the confrontation. It’s safer if⁠—”

“How much of your life is ruled by doing what’s safe?” he asked as his slow, measured steps brought him closer to where I stood.

I tried to hide the hitch in my breath, choosing to glare at him instead. His smirk told me he knew he’d gotten to me. He leaned in. “Would you like to come with us to make sure we get the rabies shot?” he murmured, stopping so close I could feel the heat of him against my front. “I know you won’t be able to sleep otherwise.”

“I’ll come with you because you might need someone to drive you home,” I said primly, lifting my nose.