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“What’s wrong?” I pull my eyes away from the fire to see North standing next to me. He had to step away to take a call, and he must have come back without me hearing him.
“Why do you think something is wrong?” I lick my tender lips.
“I know you, Joy. Something is on your mind.” I suppose he does. We’ve worked closely together over the past few months, and I’ve noticed North is good at reading people.
“I was only thinking about how everyone is probably gossiping about us.”
“Good. The word needs to spread quickly, then people will move on,” he says as he sits back down beside me.
“It was so quick. You know what they’re going to think?” I peek over at him.
North isn’t watching the fire because his eyes are on me. I notice he’s spinning his wedding band around on his finger too. Both of us are getting used to the feeling of it being there, and I wonder if it annoys him. Actually, I’m sure he’s happy to have the shield. Now it will be easy for him to fend off women by merely lifting his hand and saying he’s married.
“That you’re pregnant,” he says, and I nod.
They’d call it a shotgun wedding back home. He keeps staring at me, and for all I know, I could be pregnant. Though he might think I’m on the pill since a lot of women are. I never felt the need, plus my parents were strict and would’ve frowned on me getting on it without being married.
Is he waiting for me to confirm I’m on something? He doesn’t push or show a bit of worry over the subject. I suppose I should be asking about other things besides getting knocked up. I know North made it clear he hasn’t dated or ever hooked up with anyone in or from Troping and to my knowledge, with how closely we work, he hasn’t left town since I’ve been here. The man is always at work, and even on the weekends, he’ll still email and call me about random things. I usually run into him around town too.
Before last night, I would’ve guessed North is the type of man that would never forget protection. He’s always so by-the-book, but even now, there’s not a hint of worry on his face. How does he always have such a stoic expression? I’m starting to wonder if this is the expression he uses to mask what he’s actually feeling. I wish I could do the same since everything shows on mine. It's why I always glance away.
“So,” I say, licking my lips again, and his eyes drop to my mouth, “I should shower, but I don’t have anything here.”
“If you want, you can wear one of my shirts when you get out of the shower. Your things should arrive this afternoon.”
“What? My things?”
“Yes, it’s who I was talking to on the phone. Ben and Sons moving company are going to pack up your place.”
“No!” I jump to my feet because I know Ben and all his sons. They hang holiday lights around town as well.
“Don’t worry. Jenna is going to pack your clothing.” I know he means my panties and bras, and I am thankful it’s her doing that and not them.
“It’s not just that.” I wring my hands together, feeling super embarrassed.
“What?” He rises to his feet.
“There are things I don’t want them to pack,” I whisper, dropping my eyes from his.
“What things?” His hand grips my chin to pull my face back toward his. “I’m your husband. You can tell me anything, sweetheart.”
Gah, I want to melt into him at those sweet words. North was hard to resist before all the touching, and now this?
“It’s not like this is real,” I point out, more for myself than anything, and North’s grip on my chin tightens a fraction. It’s not painful, but it is noticeable.
“Do I need to remind you how real this is?” His other hand grabs my hip and pulls me flush against his body. His erection presses into my stomach, and a flutter lets loose inside of me. Sex. He’s only talking about sex, I remind myself again. “Now tell me what you don’t want the movers finding? A diary?” I shake my head, knowing my face is already getting warm. “Tell me,” he orders.
“My night stand.” I finally force the words out. “I have a toy in there.”
“What kind of toy?” He smirks, showing me that playful side I only see when it’s the two of us. One that’s only come out in the last twenty-four hours.
“It’s just ah, vibrators.”
“For your clit?” he asks for confirmation, and I nod.
“Should I be jealous?”
“Jealous?! Why would you be jealous?”
“Did you enjoy it more than me?”
“No,” I say in complete honesty because that toy will never live up to North.
