Read Online Married by Contract by Noelle Adams - Free Book Online Page A

There’s no clause like that in our contract.”
    “Of course not.” He let out a long breath, like he was
relaxing, letting go of some sort of tension.
    Jenn wasn’t sure what the tension would be, since he was the
most laidback person she’d ever met. She wished she could relax like he could,
just blow out all the stress as if it were nothing but air.
    Since she was snuggled up at his side, she had a good view
of his bare chest. She idly rubbed her hand over the scattering of hair, the
slight rise of his nipples, the rippling firmness of his abdomen. Without
conscious thought, her hand moved over to the scar on the side of his ribs,
which she usually didn’t even notice. There was one stark white line that must
have been a deep wound and a number of fainter scar lines around it. The skin
was slightly puckered, and he had no hair there.
    “Is it that bad?” he asked, after she’d caressed him for a
minute or two in silence.
    “No. It’s not bad at all. Why would you think it’s bad?”
    “Because you keep petting it, like it needs a lot of sympathy.”
    She chuckled and moved her hand away. “I wasn’t petting it.
I wasn’t even really thinking.” She adjusted slightly, moving her eyes from the
scar to his face. “What happened?”
    She assumed he’d gotten wounded when he was in the Army, but
she’d never asked him about it. She’d always sensed a stone wall where talk of
his days in the military was concerned, and she’d wanted to respect his
privacy. If talking about it would hurt him, then she didn’t want to do it.
    But she was experiencing the strangest sensation of
discontent—like she needed to know him more, deeper, fuller. It was strong
enough to overcome her knowledge that this wasn’t something he wanted to
discuss.
    He didn’t answer. Just shifted in bed uncomfortably.
    She knew she shouldn’t be asking him this. It wasn’t her
business. It might not be part of their contract, but they had an unstated
agreement to allow each other whatever boundaries made them most comfortable.
    But that same lingering discontent pushed her to ask, “Nick,
how did you get that scar?”
    He cleared his throat, his eyes on her face but with a
guarded look he didn’t normally wear. “It was a roadside bomb. In Afghanistan.”
    “Were you seriously hurt?”
    “Not me.”
    “Others were?”
    “Three of our guys…died.”
    “Shit.” She was stroking his scar again, and she lowered her
cheek to his chest so she wasn’t looking at his face. She somehow knew it would
be harder for him to talk about this if they were meeting each other’s eyes.
    “Those things happen,” he said.
    “Yeah, but it doesn’t make them easy.”
    “No.”
    She paused, since it felt like he needed some time to
breathe and let out the tension again. When she felt his body relax, she asked
softly, “Why don’t you ever talk about it?”
    “People cope in different ways.”
    “I know they do.”
    “I had counseling, when I first got back. I’m not an
emotional basket-case, you know.”
    “I know that! I’d never think that about you. If either of
us is a basket-case, it’s definitely me.” She lifted up her head and gave him a
wry, slanting look.
    He chuckled and reached out to brush her hair back from her
face. “You are not. You take the things in your life seriously. There’s nothing
wrong with that.”
    “I guess.”
    “And I’m here to help you relax, so it’s all good.”
    She smiled and cuddled up beside him again. She’d been
feeling good, like she’d connected with him in a new and deeper way, but after
a few minutes she reflected on what he’d said.
    If he was here to help her relax, then she wondered what she
was to him. Was there any way she could give back to him? At all?
    Then she suddenly had her answer.
    She’d given him a lot of money to pay off his business loan.
She’d bought this apartment they lived in. That was what she gave him.
    Just money.
    “What’s the matter?” Nick