Chapter 12
R ival
The next morning I woke up to the unmistakable scent of coffee.
She's already up.
For a woman who claimed she wanted nothing to do with being my wife, Sailor had fallen into a domestic life surprisingly well. This was our third morning together and already we had patterns forming. She woke first, made coffee, and I would find her curled up somewhere with case files or scrolling through her phone.
I pulled on a pair of sweatpants, made my rounds in the bathroom, and headed downstairs, following the smell of deep roasted coffee beans. Sailor was seated at the kitchen island, legs folded beneath her, wearing another oversized shirt and those damn fuzzy socks. Never in my life would I think socks would be a turn on but Sailor in hers kept my dick hard. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy ponytail and glasses sat on her face while she thumbed through a thick folder of legal documents.
She didn't look up when I entered but was aware of my presence based on the slight shift in her posture.
"You seem completely at home with the coffee and my space. Was that all it took to get you settled?”
"I can think of a few other things you’re denying me." She still didn’t look up and I laughed lightly, knowing she was pissed I wouldn’t have sex with her.
“We have the sex part perfected. We need to work on the other layers of this marriage.”
She snorted. "There's fruit in the fridge if you want breakfast. I took the liberty of going through your kitchen while you were sleeping."
"Our kitchen. Find anything interesting?"
"Just that you eat like someone who actually gives a damn about their body." She glanced up, scanning me over the rim of her mug. "Which makes sense, I suppose."
I leaned against the counter. "Are you complaining about my body, Sail?"
"Just confirming my observations." She turned back to her documents, but I caught the smile she hid behind her coffee.
"What are you working on? I thought we were taking a few days to get settled."
"The arson case." She sighed, removing her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose. "Detective called yesterday. New evidence has supposedly surfaced and we're meeting at the station this morning."
"I’ll take you."
She arched her brow. "That's not necessary. I have my SUV."
"My house, my rules. I’ll drive you." I kept my tone light, but I wasn't backing down. Part of making this marriage real was establishing those everyday connections and I really needed this to work.
"I’m going to play nice because I promised I would. We need to be there by nine."
"Plenty of time. Want a real breakfast before we go since fruit doesn’t seem to be on your favored list?"
"You don’t have to keep cooking for me. They have apps for that." There was a hint of amusement in her voice.
"I like taking care of what's mine."
Her expression shifted and she tensed. "I'm not?—"
" Mine ? You are for the next year, wife. You might as well get used to it."
She rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Progress.
While I prepared breakfast, she drank coffee in silence and occasionally glanced my way when she thought I wasn't looking. This was how it had been with us since she got here. Comfortable moments, then Sail pulling back, as if she needed to remind herself that this wasn't real. At least not to her, but to me, this marriage was as real as it fucking got.
I slid a plate in front of her with eggs, turkey sausage, and fresh berries before I filled the spot next to hers. "So, what's this new evidence they've found?"
She chewed and swallowed before answering. "They're not saying, which usually means it's either bullshit or they're fishing."
"Your client's innocent?"
"Hot head but innocent," she said with absolute certainty. "Fredrick is an idiot with anger issues, but he didn't burn down that restaurant."
"Strong opinion for a lawyer."
"I'm a good lawyer because I can tell when someone's lying to me." She pointed her fork at me. "It's a gift."
"Is that why you're so confident that I'm after your money?" I challenged.
Her fork paused midway to her mouth. "I never said I was confident about that."
"Then what are you confident about when it comes to me?"
She set her fork down and turned to face me fully. "That you're stubborn as hell and have a savior complex."
I grinned. "A savior complex? That's what you think this is about?"
"Why else would you insist on making this fake marriage real? You think I need saving from myself."
"Maybe I just know what I want when I see it."
"You barely know me."
“The time I spent at your place gave me all the insight I needed. I was in and out of there and hanging around without you stressed about being guarded. You showed me who you are.”
“That still doesn’t mean you know me,” she argued.
"I know enough. You put up walls to keep people from seeing who you really are. I know you use sex as a weapon and a shield. And I know there's a woman behind all that armor who's worth getting to know."
For a moment she just stared at me, not speaking, and I could almost see the wheels turning behind those beautiful eyes. Then she stood, grabbed her plate, and the wall was back up. "We should get going. I need to shower and change."
"Sailor." I caught her wrist before she moved past me and felt her pulse quicken beneath my thumb. "Running doesn't make the truth any less true."
She pulled her hand free but didn't move. "Truth is subjective. It's all about perspective."
"And from my perspective, you're running scared."
Her eyes flashed with uncertainty. "I'm not scared of anything."
"You sure?" I stood, closing the distance between us until my body met hers. "Then why are you breathing so fast?"
"Because you're in my space."
"Or because I see you and that terrifies the fuck out of you."
I expected her to lash out and deny it but she changed the subject. "I need to get ready."
She disappeared upstairs, leaving me alone with our half-eaten breakfast and the frustration of feeling I'd pushed too far, but with Sailor, pushing was sometimes the only way to get through those walls.
I cleaned up while she showered, running through what I had to get done today. After I was done, I threw on something comfortable and pulled up my schedule while waiting on Sail. Thankfully there wasn’t anything pressing. I had the luxury of setting my own schedule and right now my priority was making this marriage feel real enough that she wouldn’t bail the minute we crossed the one-year mark.
When she came back downstairs Sailor was transformed into Attorney Addison, wearing a fitted pantsuit, makeup, and hair pulled back off her face. Her armor was back in place.
"Ready?" Her tone was stiff and businesslike but I expected this.
"Let's go make sure Fredrick doesn't do time for something he didn't do."
The smile that surfaced was almost deadly. Yeah, my lovely wife was definitely ready for battle.
T he police station was more crowded than I expected, but then again, I had no clue what to expect. Sailor moved through the space with confidence, nodding to officers she knew as we made our way to an interview room where her client was already waiting.
"Mr. Williams.” She was blunt and professional.
"Ms. Addison." The man looked nervous as hell with his lanky frame hunched forward in the chair. His eyes darted my way anxiously.
"He’s with me. Observation only,” she rattled off, leaving no room for argument.
Fredrick's eyebrows shot up and Sailor subtly shook her head.
“He’s staying.” Her tone made it clear the subject was closed. "Now, tell me why you believe Detective Clover called you."
While they talked, I observed Sailor in her element. She was focused, asking questions and taking notes. Fredrick’s anxious mood shifted and his posture relaxed as she laid out a strategy. My wife was good at this and sexy as hell doing it.
"They've got nothing substantial," she assured him. "If they had solid evidence, they would have arrested you by now. This is a fishing expedition."
Detective Clover entered not long after with a thick folder tucked under his arm.
"Ms. Addison." He nodded, then glanced at me.
"He's observing."
Clover raised an eyebrow but didn't comment further. "Let's get started."
What followed was a masterclass in legal maneuvering. Clover presented their new evidence, cell tower data placing Frederick near the restaurant the night of the fire and a witness who claimed to have seen him arguing with the owner earlier that day.
Sailor dismantled both points skillfully. Frederick had been at a bar three blocks from the restaurant, which explained the cell data, and had receipts and witnesses to prove it. As for the argument, it had happened, but in full view of the entire staff a week before the fire.
"Detective," Sailor said bluntly, "if this is all you have, we're done here. My client has cooperated fully, but I won't have him harassed over circumstantial evidence that doesn't hold up to scrutiny."
Clover looked frustrated but not surprised. "We're still investigating, Ms. Addison."
"And my client remains willing to cooperate, through me. Now, unless you're charging him today, we're leaving."
The detective glanced between Sailor and Fredrick, then sighed. "We're not charging him today."
Sailor stood, gathering her papers. "Then we'll be in touch. Let’s go, Fredrick."
We left the station with Fredrick looking visibly relieved. After arranging to meet him at her office the following week, Sailor said her goodbyes and turned to me.
"I need to stop by my office to file some paperwork. You can drop me off and pick me up later or?—"
"I'll wait. I want to see where you work."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Fine, but if anyone is there, no husband talk. My siblings know, but the rest of the staff doesn’t."
"Ashamed of me?"
"Trying to keep my professional and personal lives separate," she corrected, but there was no harshness to her tone so I let it slide.
T he Addison Law Group occupied the top floor of a high-rise downtown. The reception area was composed of natural wood and neutral colors, with the firm's logo spelled out in brushed metal letters on the wall.
"This is it. TJ, Skylar, and I started our firm together as equal partners. We each bring something different to the practice."
"Not criminal defense like your father?"
"No. He has his own practice. I used to split my time between both, but now I'm fully committed to our firm." Pride in her voice that expressed how important independence was.
"My office is this way."
I followed her down a hallway until we reached her office, which was spacious but understated. She had a large desk which was unreasonably clean, a seating area with a leather couch, and bookshelves filled with law texts. Everything was impeccably organized, not a paper out of place.
"This is very you." I moved to examine the few personal items she had displayed. A photo of her with her siblings, another of her parents which I knew because I recognized her father from our brief interaction, and a small crystal paperweight shaped like a stack of legal texts.
"It serves its purpose," she mumbled and settled behind her desk.
"No photos of friends? Just family?"
"My family is my life, Rival. Everything else is just..."
"Temporary?"
"Exactly."
I took a seat across from her, watching as she moved through the paperwork she was here to complete.
"Is that why you're so resistant to this marriage? You think it's just another temporary thing?"
Her pen paused. "No. My parents have been married for over forty years. This marriage is temporary. We have a contract with an expiration date."
"Contracts can be renewed."
Her eyes met mine and narrowed. "Not this one."
"We'll see.”
She went back to scribbling on documents and arranging them in folders while I scrolled through my phone. I smirked each time I felt her eyes on me but I gave her space. After about an hour, she closed her laptop, stacked the folders, and sighed.
"You done?"
"Almost. I need to file one thing then we can go." She checked her phone and frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
Sailor looked panicked and that had me sitting forward. “Sail, what’s the matter?
"My father's been trying to reach me."
"Okay?"
I watched her swiping through her phone quickly, then her eyes landed on me.
"Problem?"
"He went by my apartment yesterday. Couldn't find me, so he called Sky and Teej. They told him to call me." Her expression was tense as hell. "He wants to know what's going on."
"Then tell him."
"It's not that simple."
"It can be."
"My father isn't like most people, Rival. He doesn't just accept things. He analyzes, critiques, then takes control."
"Sounds like someone else I know."
That earned me a reluctant smile. "Where do you think I learned it from?"
Her phone rang seconds later, the screen illuminating with "Dad" and a photo of a distinguished older man who looked strikingly like TJ.
Sailor stared at it for a moment, then answered, putting it on speaker.
"Hi, Daddy."
“Sailor. Care to explain why you're not at your apartment and why your brother and sister are being evasive about your whereabouts?"
She shot me a warning look before responding. "I'm at the office. Had an early meeting with a client."
"I'm not asking about this morning and you know it. I went by your place yesterday evening. You weren't there. Your doorman said you hadn't been home in days."
Sailor closed her eyes briefly. "It's complicated, Daddy."
"Uncomplicate it."
I could see her struggling with how to respond, so I made the decision for her. "Mr. Addison, this is Rival Hassan. Your daughter's husband."
Sailor's eyes expanded with a mixture of panic and fury while she frantically tried to mute the call.
There was a long, heavy silence before he spoke again. "Her what?"
"Husband," I repeated calmly. "We were married last week."
"Sailor..." His tone was deadly calm. "Is this true?"
She glared at me, but her voice was steady when she answered. "Yes, Daddy. I was going to tell you, but?—"
"Family dinner. Tomorrow night. Seven o'clock. Bring him." The line went dead.
Sailor stared at the phone then me. "What the fuck did you just do?"
"Ripped the gotdamn Band-Aid off. It was going to happen eventually and I’m tired of dancing around this shit. We are fucking married, Sail."
"On my terms! You had no right to do that."
"I'm your husband. I had every fucking right and it’s not your terms. Get that shit straight. I am your husband."
"In name only!" She slammed her hands on the desk. "This isn't real, remember? You don't get to make these decisions for me."
I stood, matching her intensity, because I was over this shit. "It's real to me, Sailor. And the sooner you stop pretending it isn't happening, the sooner we can figure out how to navigate this shit, together."
"There is no 'together'. There's just a contract and a year of my life I can't get back."
"Is that what you really fucking believe?" I moved around the desk, closing the distance between us. "Because your eyes say something different when you think I'm not looking and your body damn sure says something different when I touch you."
She backed up until she hit the window, but I followed, not letting her escape. "You're scared of what's happening between us and not because you don't feel it, but because you do."
"You don't know what I feel," she whispered, but the anger had faded from her voice.
"I fucking know, Sail.” I moved closer until space didn’t exist. “I know you feel this connection as much as I do and you're fighting it because it wasn't part of your plan. Deep down inside, you're curious about what could happen if you stopped fighting."
I placed my hand on the side of her neck and my thumb brushed over the curve of her jaw. She leaned into my touch and her eyes closed briefly. Then she straightened and pulled away. "We have to go. I need to call Skylar and TJ. They'll need to be there tomorrow. Can you grab those file boxes over there? I need to take them with me.”
I let her go, recognizing when to push and when to give her space. As fucking infuriating as she was, I cared about her. "I'll drive us home."
" Your home.” She said the shit so fast I would bet my entire savings the response was a reflex but that was cool. She was mine for a year, and in that time, I was going to make her see how good this life could be if she would trust me with her heart.
" Our home, Sail. At least for now."