Conviction: Devine
“I asked Jake the next morning. I pulled off a piece of bread and popped it into my mouth, my eyes staying on the glorious view over central Lisbon from the patio of the private villa Jake had hired. Sensing him looking at me, I turned to face him. He stared at me.
Sucking on his lips, he looked out to view the vista before us. “Eat your breakfast.”
“Jake?”
“For God’s sake!” he shouted, making my eyes widen. “Sometimes I think you care more about my friends than you do your own husband.”
“That’s not fair!”
He sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he reached across and took my hand, taking it to his mouth to plant a soft kiss. “I’m just tired.”
Turning my hand around, I softly stroked a couple of fingers along his jaw. “Go sleep. Catch up.”
I could see him contemplating my suggestion, the longing for sleep in his bloodshot eyes. “No,” he said with a shake of his head. “We’re spending time together.”
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