Chapter Twenty-Three

Ever since the day they took Tilly to the vet, Jace had been doing his utmost to show Angie that he wanted her…and it was taking a toll. He was so far behind on his work that he was scrambling to make his deadline at the end of the week. That was a first.

Not to mention the fact that he’d barely surfed, and without the calming vastness of the ocean to start his day, he felt…off. Instead, he “slept in,” better known as lying in bed watching Angie sleep—not in a creepy way—and wanting to be there for her when she woke up. He’d forced down the breakfasts she made him, not having the heart to tell her he didn’t like them. And every time she suggested a spontaneous activity—going out for coffee or an extra-long walk with the dogs to explore a different part of the beach—he said yes.

After all, the last thing he wanted to do was repeat his mistakes. Julia hadn’t been able to handle his rigidity and his need for alone time…so he was working on those things. He wanted Angie to be happy.

And, in the process, he was wearing himself down. Each time he varied from his routine, it felt like he chipped away another piece of himself.

“So I was thinking,” Angie said. “Why don’t we go out for brunch this morning?”

She was standing at the end of the bed in a white bra and undies, her long dark hair hanging down her back in glossy waves. Yeah, sure, she’d screwed his routine into oblivion. But man…he could watch her all day. It wasn’t only her body—incredible as it was—it was the sparkle in her eyes, the way she took such care with things like picking the perfect flowers for the dining room table and how she never dog-eared the pages in her books.

“Brunch?” His stomach churned at the suggestion.

“Yeah, I was chatting with one of the staff members at the retirement home, and she was telling me about a new place that opened up. It sounds cute.” She pulled a breezy yellow sundress from his cupboard—which was now their cupboard—and pulled it over her head. “Unless you’ve got work to do?”

“I’d love to do brunch.” The words came automatically, as though his “say yes” training had taken root. “That sounds great.”

His eyes coasted to the clock on his nightstand. It was past eight thirty already, and he was usually getting ready to settle into the studio by now. When he looked back up, he caught Angie observing him.

“You sure?” she asked, a frown causing a delicate crease in between her eyebrows. “We can totally go another day if you’ve got stuff to do. No pressure.”

Julia used to say stuff like that—no pressure. No worries. Whatever you want. Words he’d taken at face value when he shouldn’t have.

“I want to go everywhere with you.” He got out of bed and stalked over to her, pulling her into his arms and lowering his head down to hers. Even with his body coiled tight from feeling so out of his element, holding her was like a balm over it all.

“What if I’d suggested we go shoe shopping, huh?” she teased. “Would you have come then?”

“Yep.” Okay, now he was lying through his teeth, and they both knew it.

“What about…getting facials?” She tapped a fingertip to her chin, her nose crinkled with mischief. “Would you sit there for an hour with cucumber on your eyes?”

“Anything for you.”

“What if I asked you to watch a whole marathon of Drew Barrymore movies with me?”

He snorted. “Okay, now you’re pushing it.”

“Even you have limits.” She tapped his cheek and planted a kiss on his nose. “Good to know.”

Jace released her so he could get dressed. As he was pulling up his jeans, watching intently as Angie bent in half to fasten her sandals—giving him a glorious view—he reminded himself of how lucky he was.

“Oh hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you bring your sketchbook?” she suggested. “We can chill at the café for a bit. I’ll bring a book and we can sit and be quiet.”

He knew she was only suggesting that for his benefit—Angie could literally talk all day. But it was clear she was doing her best to respect his needs, even if what he actually wanted was to stay home and lock himself away for several hours so he could create.

But relationships had to come before work. They would grow apart otherwise. And the fear of that was like a presence in the room, a gloomy third wheel.

“That sounds great,” he said with a nod. “I’m sure I’ll get lots done.”

…

Jace did not get lots done. In fact, he speculated that “brunch” was some secret term for bring all the screaming babies to one place. The noise level would rival that of an AC/DC concert—groups of women chattering, kids yelling, some generic bass-heavy pop song playing over the speakers.

He and Angie were jammed into a tiny table in the corner of the café where his sketchbook took up so much of the space, he had to hold it at an angle—half in his lap, half on the table—to get anything done. At first, he hadn’t even bothered to pull it out. But Angie had insisted. So now, he was pretending to draw while she pretended to read.

He could feel her eyes flicking up to his at regular intervals. “Are you having fun?” she asked.

I have the worst case of writer’s block ever.

The problem was, his head was too noisy. It was like his brain was stuck on a loop, reminding him every thirty seconds that there was something else he was supposed to be doing. Reminding him that he didn’t have time for brunch when he should be working. It was like an alarm that refused to turn off.

“Sure,” he said, arranging his face into the best I’m having fun expression he could think off. But Angie didn’t seem convinced.

“Can I see what you’re working on?”

Shit. He looked down at the page, which was totally blank, save for a doodle of Hermit with his hands over his ears while five babies screamed around him. If she saw that, then she would know he wasn’t having fun.

“I, uh…don’t like to show my work at such an early stage,” he said, flipping the book shut.

A waitress was heading toward them with a notepad, and Jace had scanned the menu over and over in the hopes he’d find something simple to eat. He was pretty sure if he ate another piece of bacon, all his arteries would clog simultaneously.

“What can I get you?” she asked.

“I’ll have the sourdough with avocado and a poached egg. Oh, and a flat white, please.” Angie smiled and handed her menu back to the waitress.

Jace scanned the menu again, hoping that something appealing might suddenly appear, as if by magic. “You don’t happen to have plain porridge, do you?”

The waitress cocked her head. “We have some oats out back that we use for the Bircher muesli, so I’m sure the chef wouldn’t mind cooking them up for you. How do you like them?”

“With regular milk,” he said, feeling relieved. Jace didn’t mind being adventurous with his meals at other parts of the day, but there was something about breakfast that needed to be simple—as if it was a promise that the rest of the day could be easy and uncomplicated.

“Okay, and for toppings? We’ve got strawberries and banana fresh in today, as well as blackberries. Plus any of the condiments: honey, golden syrup—”

“Just plain. Thanks.”

For a moment, the waitress looked at him as if she hadn’t heard right, and Jace got that awful feeling that he was being judged. It was funny how he’d never been great at reading people, but that was always one thing he felt down to the very marrow of his bones. He had an urge to cover it up with a joke or to feign a bit of an upset stomach or lie and tell them he was entering a body-building contest and was on a strict diet of oats, chicken breast, and broccoli—but dammit, why should he?

What was so wrong with wanting to eat something boring for breakfast?

“Coming right up,” she said with a nod.

Angie was watching him with a concerned expression. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” But the muscle in his jaw was twitching.

It was like his need for normalcy was a balloon growing inside him, pushing on his heart and lungs, filling up every cavity until he was almost bursting with it. But he didn’t want to expose Angie to this side of him—the side that would never go away no matter how much he tried.

She’s going to see it eventually.

His stomach sank. It felt like his world was unraveling, and he didn’t know how to fix it. Why couldn’t he be like other guys and shrug things off? He had a beautiful fiancée sitting in front of him and…dammit, she was so important to him. Already. Why couldn’t he be what she wanted?

He glanced at the clock across the room. They’d been here for half an hour already and they hadn’t even eaten. No doubt, she’d want a leisurely stroll back to the house and then…

She’s got a volunteer shift this afternoon. You can work then.

How was he going to keep this up for thirty days, let alone the rest of his life? Eventually she would see what he was like and…she would leave.

“Jace, if I ask you that question it’s because I’m genuinely interested in how you’re doing,” she said. “Not because I want you to dismiss me with ‘fine,’ okay?”

She saw way too much. Either that or he was the world’s shittiest actor…probably a little of both.

“I know this must be a big upheaval for you—”

“I said I’m fine.”

Don’t let her see it; don’t let her see it; don’t let her see it.

“You can let me in. I promise I won’t judge you.” Her voice sounded like she was telling the truth, and Jace guessed that her face did, too.

But he’d thought the same thing about Julia, and he’d been wrong. It would be fine; he would simply have to try harder…and maybe sneak out of bed to get his work done at night while the house was quiet.

But a little voice in the back of his head whispered words of dissent. How much longer could he play the role of Husband Material Jace before it all blew up in his face?

…

“What on earth is going on?” One of the Patterson’s Bluff retirement home residents peered at Angie through thick-rimmed glasses.

“A surprise,” Angie said. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

After brunch with Jace ended in a verbal standoff—cue them heading home in silence—Angie decided to distract herself with work for the retirement home. Her meeting with the board was approaching, where she would present her plans.

She’d collected research on how learning new skills worked to combat degenerative brain disease and created a case study of a retirement home overseas that had used a similar approach to improve the mental health of residents. But today was putting her theory into action—a test case of what she hoped would win over the board.

With permission from the facility manager, the recreation room had been converted for this special event. Last week, Angie had put in a call to Chloe and asked if she could take her up on the offer of free yoga instruction for an hour…but with one fun twist.

The residents of the retirement home wouldn’t be taking the yoga class alone.

Chloe bounced on the balls of her feet at the front of the room, excited as a bag full of jumping beans. Her dark hair was twisted up into a messy knot, and she wore cute galaxy-print leggings and a fitted tank top advertising her yoga studio. Angie stood beside her, waiting for the go-ahead from Nadesha. They’d had ten people sign up for the mystery class, and all had turned up as instructed—barefoot and wearing comfortable clothing. Betty, Jean, and Meredith occupied the back row like a band of naughty schoolgirls, giggling and chatting among themselves.

What made the whole thing better, however, was that Marcus was in the row ahead of Jean…which she suspected was not a mistake.

“We almost ready to start?” Chloe asked.

Angie looked over to the door, where Nadesha had appeared and was giving them the thumbs-up. Showtime.

“Thank you all for coming along today. For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Angie Donovan. I’m a volunteer here at the Patterson’s Bluff retirement home, and I truly believe that learning new things and having new life experiences is so important for keeping people happy and healthy. So…” Angie couldn’t keep the grin off her face. “I’ve enlisted the generous support of a great local business to bring the fun to you.”

Chloe stepped forward on cue and introduced herself, then explained how the yoga class would work. They were doing her “yoga for seniors” class, which focused on gently building strength and flexibility and could easily be modified for different mobility requirements.

“But,” Angie said, “we have some extra-special guests who are very excited to join you today.”

She signaled to Nadesha to open the doors, and in came a group of people with a small army of dogs trotting by their feet. Two of the staff from the local animal shelter were also carrying some very fluffy puppies. Excited gasps rose up from all around the room, and Angie’s heart soared. This was exactly the reaction she’d been hoping for. It hadn’t been easy gathering the dogs to attend the session—the shelter didn’t have a lot of extra staff, and she’d had to reach out personally to people she knew who owned small, well-behaved dogs. But every single one of them had come.

Including Jace.

Her eyes caught his across the recreation room, and a zap of something hot and sparkly shot through her. Butterflies stirred in her tummy. The last few days had been tense—and the more Angie tried to be perky and play the role of perfect fiancée, the more Jace seemed to pull away.

Regardless, he was here now, supporting her and shooting her an encouraging smile across the room. The second she saw it, her nerves instantly eased.

“Look at this cute little guy!” Betty bent down to pat a scruffy black dog that could barely see out of the shaggy hair covering it’s eyes. A pink tongue darted out to swipe her hand, and she laughed.

“Each dog has a handler,” Chloe explained. “Just in case they get rowdy or you need a break. But otherwise, I’ll guide you through how to encourage the dogs to be part of the routine so that we all have a fantastic time.”

The dogs were in their element, sniffing and exploring and greeting the residents. Truffle bounced straight over to Angie and jumped up, slapping his tiny paws against her leg and letting out an excited yip!

“Looks like someone has a favorite.” Jace came over. He looked incredible—his hair still slightly damp, as though he’d come straight from his morning surf, and a black T-shirt that outlined his broad shoulders and washboard stomach.

“Take him for a wander around and see if he bonds with any of the other participants, otherwise I’ll take him.” She reached out and touched Jace’s arm. “And thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” He scooped up the white Chihuahua. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

…

“Exhale and hinge forward at the hips. Bend down to meet your yoga partner.” The room was mostly quiet, broken only by the sounds of Chloe’s instructions and the occasional excited noise from a four-legged participant. “Take a moment to engage with the dog and make them feel part of your practice.”

Jace didn’t have a dog to engage with, as Truffle was happily playing along with a charming older woman named Meredith. He didn’t know her at all, but it sounded like she’d spent most of her life in Melbourne rather than in Patterson’s Bluff. She’d totally charmed Truffle, anyway. And he was looking more relaxed than ever, lying on his back with his legs unabashedly spread.

Like a canine centerfold.

At the front of the class, Angie was doing yoga as well. She was keeping an eye on a hyperactive little French bulldog named Cosmo. But as she bent forward, the charcoal material of her leggings stretching tight across her butt, Jace had to force himself not to topple over.

He wasn’t the kind of guy who objectified women, but there must have been some male gene inside him that turned his brain to goo at the sight of her perfect ass. Besides, they were engaged. So it was perfectly okay to ogle. Even if they still hadn’t told people.

For some reason, every time he tried to bring it up, Angie would go into some silent panic. He could see it in her eyes, though she would plaster on the same irritatingly fake smile as if that might fool him. Well, he’d clearly gotten better at reading expressions when it came to her—because he knew the difference between her real smile and a fake one.

The whole thing had made a little kernel of doubt unfurl inside him—was he heading straight for a repeat of history? Would Angie leave him with a note on the kitchen table like Julia had? Or was it simply nerves about telling the truth about her past?

“Now we’re going to do a little partner work,” Chloe said. “Pair up…”

Before Jace even had a chance to figure out who he would partner up with, a hand landed on his shoulder. It was Meredith, the woman behind him.

“Let’s be partners,” she said with a wide smile.

It didn’t take long to figure out why she’d been quick to claim him. The woman next to Meredith, with the white curly hair, was looking around. Both her friends had quickly leaped to work with other people. When the tall Italian man next to Jace also ended up alone, he turned and extended a hand out to the white-haired woman. Jace tried to remember her name…was it Jane? No, Jean.

Jean’s face was rosy pink, and she could barely make eye contact with the Italian man. But she shuffled over to his mat, shooting a glare at her friends on the way.

Ah, so this was a setup.

At the front of the room, Angie was paired with a woman with dark hair and red glasses. They were both smiling, looking like they were having a great time.

“Please go back-to-back with your partner,” Chloe said from the front of the room. “We’re going to lean against each other, finding balance by both parties working to support the other person. Then we’re going to take a gentle bend at the knees and keep backs pressed together. Let your dogs relax or play at your feet.”

Jace and Meredith got into the pose. He didn’t usually like getting up close and personal with people he didn’t know, but he distracted himself by watching Jean and her partner. They were sweet and a little shy around each other, and Jean spent the entire pose shooting daggers at her friends.

“I know what you’re doing,” she whispered.

Behind him, Jace felt Meredith shrug. He’d been around enough wannabe matchmakers in his time to see the tricks a mile off. It was sweet. From all Angie had told him about the residents at the retirement home, these three ladies were her favorites. “The poker gang,” she called them. She’d said it was like having three awesome grandmas.

“Now raise your arms up toward the ceiling and press the backs of your hands together.”

This was a little awkward, and everyone laughed as they tried to find their partner’s hands. His rudimentary understanding of yoga being some hippie-dippy activity full of self-appraising chants and uncomfortable positions had been thwarted. Around him, dogs were jumping up and generally getting in the way and nobody minded a damn bit. Truffle danced at his feet, yipping before going off to play with another dog.

“Now we’re going to turn around and face our partners.”

Jace turned, and Meredith winked at him before inclining her head slightly toward the Italian and Jean. “She’s had a crush on Marcus ever since he arrived,” she whispers. “But she won’t do anything about it.”

“Maybe she’s shy.”

“That’s why you need friends to give you a push in the right direction.”

Chloe clapped her hands together at the front of the room. “Okay, now hold hands. We’re going to softly lean away from each other, creating a slight tension in the arms. Only go as far as your joints will allow. This is a gentle session, so don’t push beyond your limits.”

Jace’s eyes strayed to Jean and Marcus. Every time they looked at each other, she’d quickly glance away, her face growing increasingly pink. In the row ahead of him, Jace spied Angie watching the older couple, too, a delighted smile on her face. When Jace caught her eye, she grinned.

Even when she should have been focused on herself, she was caring for those around her. Trying to bring sunshine into everyone’s world. It wasn’t often that he met someone who cared so deeply about the community around them. She would fit right in with his family—their values were aligned, their view in the same direction.

The rest of the yoga—or doga as they’d starting calling it—session went smoothly. After a few more partner poses, they went back to their individual mats for some gentle movement and stretching.

“I’d like everyone to slowly ease down onto your mat,” Chloe said from the front of the room. “If you feel comfortable, bring your dogs onto your chest or keep them close by your sides. We’re going to settle into corpse pose or a comfortable seated position for a few minutes to finish the session.”

Jace stopped to give Marcus a hand to move to the side of the room, since he wasn’t able to get down on the ground. There was laughter from all across the room as the dogs tried to take over the class, licking faces and generally being mischievous. Within a few minutes, everyone settled.

“Breathe to my count,” Chloe instructed. “In, two, three, four and out, two, three, four.”

Jace tried to relax, but his body was tighter than a new couch spring. This whole situation with Angie had him totally confused and on edge…which was affecting his work. This morning’s sketching session had been less than productive, and he couldn’t seem to figure out how to move the story forward. Which was becoming a problem. He had to get his folio together for the syndication group, and he needed a complete storyline.

He’d never had this kind of writer’s block before. But lately his concentration was no better than a goldfish’s. It was all this disruption to his routine, and he needed to get himself together or he might lose this important opportunity.

“Let your mind go blank,” Chloe said.

Ha! Fat chance of that happening.

“If any thoughts come along, acknowledge them and then send them on their way.”

What was he supposed to acknowledge? That his engagement was starting to feel a little one-sided? He couldn’t stop thinking about Angie. Day and night, she was on his mind, and the only time they seemed to truly connect was when he reached for her in the dark. There, without words to mess things up, they were perfect together.

But then he’d come here today and she wasn’t wearing the ring he’d given her. What on earth could that mean?

“With each breath out, I want you to release your tensions and worries. Meditation is a time for resetting the mind and— Oh no! Stop!”

Jace sat bolt upright, knowing exactly what had interrupted the yoga session. “Truffle! No!”

Truffle, who’d looked sleepy and adorable not five minutes ago, had mounted one of the toy poodles and was humping away to his heart’s content. The poodle, on the other hand, looked entirely bored by the whole thing.

Jace leaped to his feet and dodged the other yoga participants until he got to his mischievous, misbehaving dog. “Dude. Really?”

“My poor Mitzi.” The owner of the dog rushed over, glaring at Jace. “You get off her right now!”

“He’s fixed,” Jace reassured the woman. The whole room had been well and truly broken out of their meditative state now, and most were laughing behind their hands.

“I don’t care if he’s fixed.” The woman snatched the poodle from the ground, and Truffle looked up at Jace as if to say, What? Dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do.

“We’re going to talk about this later,” he grumbled as he picked Truffle up and tucked him under one arm.

“Well, on that entertaining note, I think we can conclude today’s class.” Chloe took a bow to some very enthusiastic clapping. “Thank you for joining Angie and me, and we really hope you enjoyed yourselves.”

“I enjoyed the peep show!” one of the older gentlemen crowed from the back. “That dog was really going for it.”

At the front of the room, Angie dropped her head into her heads. But her shoulders were shaking as though she couldn’t contain her laughter.

“You’ve always got to be the center of attention, don’t you?” He looked at Truffle, who craned his small doggy head up. “Yep, and not ashamed of it, either.”

“I think he’s adorable.” Meredith got to her feet and gave Truffle a scratch on the head. “He reminds me so much of my little Andy. He was a Chihuahua mix, feisty as can be. But when he decided he liked you, it was like the whole world was shining.”

“He sounds like a great dog.”

“He was. Lived until he was fourteen and could barely see a damn thing.” Meredith was misty-eyed now, and she gave Truffle another pat. “Bring him along again, okay? It makes us all so happy.”

“I certainly will.” Jace bid her a good day and went to find Angie.

She stood at the front of the room, chatting with the residents. It took a full fifteen minutes before the room cleared out, but every single person—bar the woman who’d been horrified by Truffle’s deviant behavior—left with a smile on their face.

“I would say it was a success…on balance.” Chloe winked, and Angie groaned at the pun.

“That was really great, terrible jokes aside.” Angie gave Chloe a hug. “Thank you so much for giving up your time. It’s incredibly generous.”

“We need more people around here to remember why this community is so amazing. So I’m happy to do my part.” Chloe turned to Jace. “And thank you for bringing that little troublemaker along.”

Jace let Truffle down to the ground, now that everyone had cleared out of the room. The staff of the retirement home had come in to start putting all the furniture back into place. The little dog flopped straight down onto the ground.

“Did all that sex wear you out?” Angie folded her arms and gave him a mock-stern expression. “Seriously, you take your eyes off him for two seconds…”

“I’m thinking I might need to get him a chastity belt.” Jace chuckled.

“Well, I declare it a cracking success.”

Jace smiled at the Aussie-ism. Angie was clearly still working on her Australian vocabulary.

“What’s next on the plan?” Chloe asked. “I’m assuming you’re shooting for small-town domination. Glen Powell is going to rue the day he said no to you. I give it five years before you’re running this place.”

Five years.

Angie studiously avoided Jace’s gaze. “One step at a time. I’ve got my meeting with the board on Friday and several businesses lined up to provide classes should we get the go-ahead. The bakery has offered a cake-decorating class, and they seemed really interested, so they’ll probably be up next.”

“That’s a long way from Grannies on Poles,” Jace commented.

Angie shrugged. “Maybe it was too ambitious.”

“You know,” Chloe said, “I have a friend who runs a burlesque studio in Melbourne. It’s too far for her to come and volunteer on a regular basis, but I’m sure we could swing some accommodation for her and get her to come overnight for a special one-off class.”

“That would be amazing!” Angie clapped her hands together. “Burlesque. Now, why didn’t I think of that? It’s sexy and fun. Just what Meredith said they needed.”

“Let me put in a call.” Chloe pulled out her phone and typed a note to herself. “And now I have to run. I’m teaching another class in forty minutes.”

As Chloe packed up her things, Angie and Jace stood around awkwardly. Truffle slapped his little paws up onto her legs, and she bent down to give him some love. “Did you have fun?”

“Actually, I did.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting to, but it was…entertaining.”

“Well, we happened to have a certified ham in the class today. Didn’t we, Sir Humps-a-lot?” Truffle made a satisfied little hmmph.

“How come you didn’t wear your engagement ring today?” He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt—maybe it was because a ring might interfere with the yoga poses. Or the dogs. But he wanted to know if something was wrong.

He wouldn’t be blindsided again.

Angie looked like a deer caught in headlights. Okay, so it must not have been something to do with the yoga class. “Let’s talk outside.”

They took Truffle through the front of the retirement home, and Angie waved to the staff. Outside, the suburban street was even quieter now that school had started up for the year.

“Is something going on?” he asked. “Ever since we got engaged, you’ve been acting strange, and I’m starting to feel like you don’t want this.”

“I do want this,” she said.

“But every time I mention telling people, you shut down.” He raked a hand through his hair, trying to shake out the frustrated energy. He wanted this to work between them, because the more he got to know Angie, the more he knew losing her would be a mistake.

The memories of that rehearsal dinner—even knowing what he did now—haunted him. He hated feeling like a laughingstock. Or worse, someone people pitied. What if Angie did that to him?

“Are you…ashamed?”

“No! God, not even a little bit.” She shook her head. “More like the other way around. I know you think people won’t care or pry into my past, but honestly, I’ve found very few people who mind their own business. People are going to have an opinion about the fact that we went from being friends to being engaged without much in-between.”

“So what? We don’t need anyone’s permission.”

“But I want to make this my home.” Her eyes welled, and the sight was a sucker punch. He hated seeing her sad, even more so because he knew it upset her to let her emotions out like that. “We’ll have to live here, with people gossiping.”

“You seem to be more focused on everybody else than on us.” Jace sighed. Truffle swung his head back and forth between the two of them, as if watching a ping-pong match. Poor guy could probably sense the tension. Hell, he was pretty sure they could feel it on the other side of the world.

She looked at him incredulously. “One, I’ve been busy with planning for the board meeting because it’s important to me—”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“And two,” she continued, her dark eyes blazing with indignation. “I’ve made breakfast for you almost every morning. I’ve cleaned that whole house from top to bottom, and I’ve tried so damn hard to be perky and happy no matter what was going on in my head.”

“Exactly!” Jace threw up the hand that wasn’t holding Truffle’s leash. “I don’t want a maid, Angie. I don’t expect you to pick up after me and pretend to be happy when you’re not. You’re not my employee. And frankly, I like my plain porridge every day.”

Her cheeks flushed bright pink, and she pursed her lips. “Well excuse me for trying to be helpful.”

“Why are you trying to be helpful? You don’t need to earn your place in my house.” It killed him that she thought that way, like she needed to do things for him in order to make up for some imaginary deficit she thought she had.

Or maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe it was that Angie was starting to understand what she’d signed up for—marriage to a man who wasn’t perfect. Who wasn’t always able to be a hero, like men in the movies she watched. Who was flawed and struggled with his thoughts and who sometimes at the end of a long day just needed to be alone.

Maybe she started to think this was all a big mistake.