Chapter 10
R ival
I'd been up since six, moving through the house quietly so I wouldn't wake Sailor. She agreed to live here, but this wasn't truly her home yet. Making her comfortable was priority number one.
I glanced at the coffee machine we purchased yesterday. It was expensive, and unnecessarily complicated, just like my damn wife. The thought brought a smile to my face as I prepared a fresh cup, familiarizing myself with all the settings. By the time I heard movement upstairs, I had a steaming mug ready, fixed exactly how she liked it.
"Is that coffee?" Sailor's voice was still thick with sleep as she sluggishly dragged into the kitchen, wearing another oversized shirt and those fuzzy socks she seemed to live in when she was comfortable at home.
"Good morning to you too.” I extended the mug.
She accepted it with both hands and inhaled deeply before taking a sip. Her eyes closed briefly and a small sound of appreciation left those pretty ass lips.
"You're learning," she mumbled and opened her eyes.
"I pay attention."
"To what you want," she countered.
"To what my wife needs ." I let that sink in. "Hungry?"
She nodded and watched me over the rim of her mug as I moved around the kitchen, pulling out eggs, cheese, and vegetables for omelets. "Coffee and you cook?"
"I'm a grown ass man who lives alone. Hell yeah I cook."
"Lived," she corrected.
I paused, looking up. "What?"
"You lived alone. Past tense." She shrugged as if that wasn’t a big thing. "Now you're stuck with me."
Always masking her feelings with fucking sarcasm but something in her tone alluded to acceptance of our situation. I didn't want to read too much into it, but it felt like progress.
"I’m not stuck, Sail. Being married to you is a choice."
While I worked on breakfast, Sailor wandered around the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers, familiarizing herself with the space. My space. It was domestic as hell, considering the person, and I liked watching her explore what was now her home too, regardless of how we got here.
"What's on your agenda today?" I asked, sliding an omelet onto a plate.
"I need to review some files for a case. I’m here but I can't completely abandon my client."
"Work-life balance at its finest."
"Says the man who stayed up all night to finish a project."
"I have a wife to support." I joined her at the table. "Speaking of, after breakfast, I need to do some work in the shop. You're welcome to join me."
"Why would I want to do that?"
I smirked and let my eyes move over her body.
"I happen to personally know you like watching my talented hands work?"
She rolled her eyes, but that cute ass smile surfaced. "I've seen your talent. My apartment, remember?"
She conveniently re-directed.
"That was just installation. The real work happens in my shop."
"Hmm, sounds incredibly boring, like watching paint dry.”
I chuckled and let that slide.
After breakfast, Sailor disappeared upstairs to shower and check emails while I cleaned up. By the time she reappeared, I was already heading toward the back door that led to my workshop.
“Change your mind?”
I heard her sigh before she followed me. "I have nothing better to do."
My workspace was a converted shed I'd expanded over the years. When I pushed the heavy wooden door open, the familiar scents of sawdust and stain gut punched me. This was my sanctuary, the place where I felt at peace and settled.
Sailor walked in behind me and took in the space. I followed her line of sight around the room. Workbenches lined the walls, dedicated to different stages of the process. Tools were scattered everywhere, several projects left in various stages of completion. Near the back was my focus for today, a half-finished dining table stood.
"This is not what I expected." She ran her fingers along a plank of walnut wood.
"What did you expect?"
"I don’t know, basic. A couple of power tools and a workbench. I’ve only ever seen two garages and that’s my father’s and Gray’s. This is professional."
"Gray is an ex-NFL player who owns a bar and grill. Your father is an attorney. This is my profession."
"Point made. You built all this.”
"Most of it." I moved toward the table, checking that the glue had set properly overnight. "The business grew, so the shop did too."
Sailor moved closer and examined the table. "What kind of wood is this? It’s pretty."
"Black walnut. The client wanted something dark." I ran my hand over the surface. "It's for a family that just built their dream home. They have six kids, so it needed to be sturdy but beautiful."
"Six kids, shit. That's a lot of kids."
"Some people like a full house. Is it the amount that has your face twisted or just kids in general?"
She tensed slightly. "That's a loaded question for day two of cohabitation, don't you think?"
"Just conversation, Sail." I picked up a piece of sandpaper, focusing on smoothing a rough edge. "No pressure."
She watched me work for a moment before answering. "I haven’t completely ruled it out but my career comes first. Children don't exactly fit neatly into sixty-hour work weeks and high-profile cases."
"Your sister makes it work."
"Skylar's different. She's always been better at the whole work-life balance thing."
I decided not to push further. Instead, I handed her a piece of fine-grit sandpaper. "Want to try?"
"You're letting me touch your precious creation?"
"You're my wife. What's mine is yours, remember?" I guided her hand to a section of the tabletop. "Like this, with the grain."
Her movements were tentative at first but the more she got a feel for the rhythm, the more confident she got. I watched her work with a concentration that mirrored how she approached everything else in life. Fully committed.
"It's oddly satisfying," she said, frowning at the motion after a few minutes.
"That's why I love it.” I was about to get a different tool but my cell vibrated with a call.
Jairo's name flashed on the screen and I hesitated for a minute, considering that Sailor was here, but said fuck it and answered.
"Just checking on you, fam. How's married life treating you?"
I glanced at my Sail, who had paused her sanding, not so discreetly trying to listen but I had intentionally answered on speaker for that same reason. "It's an adjustment."
"Ah shit, she’s got you caught up.” I smirked and he kept going. “I'm in your neighborhood for a client meeting. I’m gonna pull up to properly meet the woman who outmatched your ass. She was pretty lit last time I met her."
The night of our wedding via video chat when Sailor was drunk off her ass. I glanced at my wife whose eyebrows shot up and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head.
"Today's not great?—"
I probably needed to prep Sail for an interaction with Jairo.
"I'm already on your street. Ten minutes, tops. I'm bringing lunch as a peace offering."
Before I could object, he hung up. I sighed, knowing this was about to be a fucking disaster.
"Your friend's coming over.”
"Apparently."
"The one who was a witness at our wedding?"
I nodded. "Jairo. We've been friends since college. Not sure how much you remember from that night."
"Which means he thinks I manipulated you and wants to size me up." She put the sandpaper down. "Perfect."
"You did manipulate me.”
She shot me a murderous look. "Not helpful, Rival."
"Just stating facts, but if it makes you feel better, I walked into this fully understanding what I was dealing with."
"Why would you agree to marry someone who only wanted sex?" The question was abrupt as hell, which had me smiling. I'd asked myself more than once.
"I saw what you didn’t want me to see."
Before she could respond, I heard a car door slam. Jairo got here fast as hell, which meant he lied about how close he was. Sailor squared her shoulders like she was preparing for battle.
"You can relax. It’s not going to be an attack," I said, heading for the door.
"I'm a trial attorney, Rival. I’m not worried about squaring up with your friend."
"That's what I'm afraid of,” I mumbled, leaving the shop.
Jairo was halfway to the two of us when I stopped outside. He had takeout and was smiling like a gotdamn idiot.
"Muthafuckin man of the hour." Jairo extended his free hand to me before turning to Sailor who was behind me. "And you must be the bride. Sober this time?"
"Jairo.”
Sailor just smiled.
"Completely, which means you'll get the full experience this time." She extended a hand. "Sailor Addison-Hassan."
The hyphenated last name was new, but I wasn't about to point that out.
Jairo shook her hand, amused. "Jairo Thompson. Known your husband since we were eighteen and too stupid to know better about shit." He lifted the bag. "Brought lunch. Hope you like Thai."
"Love it.” I'd never seen her eat Thai food, ever .
We made our way back to the house and once we reached the kitchen, Sailor took over, gathering plates and utensils while I helped Jairo unpack the food.
Jairo began once we were seated. "How's the adjustment to married life?"
"Still figuring out our rhythm."
"I know this is a huge ass change. Especially with it being so spontaneous." He looked right at Sail.
"The best decisions are. Think long, think wrong, and besides, when you know, you know."
I nearly choked on my pad thai. Sailor shot me a warning glance before continuing.
"So college roommates, right? Rival told me you both went to Tech?"
"Yeah. Engineering majors with too much time and not enough damn sense. I stuck with it, but my boy found his calling with wood instead of wires and bailed on me."
"He’s good at it so I’m glad."
"The fucking best," Jairo agreed. “What about you? Attorney, right?"
"I am. My siblings and I run a practice together. The Addison Firm."
"Wait, are you related to Torrance Addison?"
Sailor's smile tightened. "He's my father."
Jairo cut his eyes my way. "That's interesting."
"It is what it is.” She shrugged.
The conversation shifted to safer topics. My flaws from Jairo’s perspective and his greatness as a person and in my life as a friend. Sailor seemed comfortable with him, which I appreciated. I watched the dynamic between them shift. Jairo's initial suspicion gradually eased. Sailor was in her element, charming when she wanted to be, deflecting personal questions when she wanted to be guarded and asking just enough about Jairo to make him feel important. Like he needed that shit…
By the time he was about to leave, they were old friends.
"I fuck with you, Addison-Hassan," Jairo said, standing at the door. "You're damn sure not what I expected."
"But you are," she teased. He threw his head back and laughed before he grinned at me. "She's way out of your league, but I guess you already know that."
"Every fucking day.” I winked at Sailor who actually blushed.
After Jairo left, Sailor leaned against the closed door, exhaling slowly. "That went better than I anticipated."
"It wasn’t a performance, but the hyphenated last name was a nice touch."
She shrugged. "I figured it was more believable than pretending I took your name completely."
And she’s back…
"Is that what you're going with officially?"
"I haven't decided yet." She pushed off from the door, brushing past me. “I was just doing my part as wifey.”
“So it was a performance? Like our marriage.”
She paused and turned to face me. "Yes, exactly like our marriage."
Something in her eyes felt like uncertainty. Maybe I was getting through to her and she wasn't as convinced as she wanted to be.
Before I could call her on it, my phone rang again, with a call from a client that reached out about a last-minute change. I accepted and talked through the revisions. By the time I finished, Sailor had disappeared.
I headed back to the workshop, banking the conversation with Sail for another time. Every time we made progress, she retreated and put her walls back up, and it was very fucking disappointing.