Chapter 19
BELLA
I am bored out of my fucking mind, again. Reggie is busy working.
And I already feel like I’m losing it.
I’ve scrolled social media within an inch of its life. Pushing myself off the couch, I head to the kitchen and pull up my saved recipes that I’ve always wanted to try.
Last time I baked, I shoved a load of weed in the brownies and watched my brothers get high. They were furious. Especially my ex-military commander brother, Ryder. I found it rather amusing. They’ve been pranking me for years. A little payback was due.
Maybe I should lace Reggie’s cookies with something, it might lighten the mood. Or he might kill me.
I scour through his cupboards and find everything, except the chocolate chips. But I know who will have them. I race to the door that connects to Rowan’s house and knock. Waiting with butterflies in my stomach for him to answer.
“Afternoon, sweetness.” He smiles as he opens the door.
I clench my thighs together. Backwards hat. Grey sweatpants. Tight black tee where I can see his six-pack through.
Is he really trying to test me?
“Hi. Do you by any chance have any chocolate?” I ask sweetly.
He leans on the doorframe. Ugh. What a move. He’s definitely trying to melt my panties off.
“You came to the right brother.” He winks, pushing himself off and leading me into his kitchen.
I follow him through and watch how he tosses out items from his cupboards.
“Ah, ha. Gotcha.”
He tosses a bag of chocolate chips onto the counter.
“What are you making?” he asks.
“Shortbread cookies.”
He bites on his lip.
“You know the way to a man's heart.”
My own heart stammers. These are for his brother. Kind of. I don’t even know why I’m trying.
“I-I thought I might try to soften Reggie up to me. Something's gotta get this stick out of his ass,” I say as a joke.
His cheerful expression fades.
“Oh, right. He’s not really a sweet treat type of guy. Loves meat and veggies though. Maybe try a dinner if you want to impress him,” he tells me, resting against the side.
I nod.
I shrug. “Okay. Yeah, I guess I’ll try that.”
He kinda looks like a lost puppy, looking down at the floor.
“Would you like to try some cookies once I’ve finished?”
He looks up with a cheeky grin and rubs his abs.
“I’d love to. I gotta go work out in the cage first.”
I tilt my head. “The cage? Like MMA?”
He chuckles and nods.
“Yeah. Conan, one of the Quinn brothers, he’s a pro. I sometimes take the job of his punchbag. Although, I’ve gotten pretty damn good over the years.”
I blow out a breath. I bet that’s hot to watch.
“Maybe, someday, I could come cheer you on,” I say with a sweet smile.
“My own personal cheerleader, huh?”
I like the sound of that. A little too much.
“Something like that, yeah…”
I gotta stop flirting with him. I just can’t help it. I grab the chocolate and point to the door.
“I best get on with this. Have fun. I’ll bring you baked goods once I’m done.”
“Thank you,” he blows me a kiss.
I all but run back to Reggie’s house. Distracting myself from how hot Rowan gets me by getting busy with baking these damn cookies.
By the time I’ve made a complete mess of Reggie’s once pristine kitchen. I put a few on a plate for Rowan.
And then the door slams, Reggie’s heavy footsteps echoing through the house. I take a deep breath as he rounds the corner.
He raises an eyebrow at the flour explosion.
“Smells good in here,” he says, shrugging off his jacket and placing it on the back of the barstool.
“Want a coffee?” he asks, rounding the corner to where I am. I press my back against the counter as he passes.
“Uh. Yes, please.”
He gets to work on the machine, so I plate him up a cookie and slide it next to him.
“Wanna try one?” I ask.
He glances down and then to me.
“Not laced with drugs, are they?”
I fake hurt.
“How dare you, Irish.”
My cheeks blush as he picks up the cookie and takes a huge bite.
“Mmm. These are good.”
“I haven’t tried one yet,” I admit.
“Open,” he orders, placing it in front of my lips.
I do as he says and take a bite.
“Yeah. They’re good. Next time I might add some caramel to the top for extra sweetness.”
He nods.
“Rowan will chew ya hands off for them.”
I smile, and he watches me intently, glancing at the plate behind me.
“Those for him?” He nods to the plate.
“Yeah. I borrowed the chocolate chips from him. Only fair.”
He shrugs, unbothered, and finishes the coffee.
“Okay. I’m sure he will like ‘em.”
“I actually thought we could talk? You said the other day you wanted to go over the terms of our marriage. Well, maybe we should get that over with.”
He grunts, pouring his own coffee.
“Over with?” he questions.
“Yeah. You wanted to discuss the rules?”
He hands me my coffee and swipes up his, taking a slow sip.
“Our wedding will be set for just over a month's time. At our local church here. Small ceremony."
“Are my brothers coming?” I cut in and ask.
“Yes.”
I nod along, drinking my bitter coffee.
“Fine with me. What else? I need something to do; I can’t just bake cookies all day. I’m useful, I did my brother's finances and investments.”
“Hmm. Yeah, let me talk to the Quinns. Might be good to get you on board with that.”
I tap my pink nail on the marble counter.
“Now, I also need to go make some friends. I need a social life outside of this house.”
He grunts. “Friends?”
“Yeah? You have them, right?” I snap back.
“You mean friends or a fuck?”
I roll my eyes and his jaw twitches. So I simply shrug.
“Depends. I know the rules; can’t be here. I know, I know. But I actually meant a friend. Do any of yours have wives?”
“I’ll speak to them, make you some friends,” he says with a half grin.
“Cool. Thanks, I guess.” I blow out a breath.
He’s so reserved with me, like he’s calculating every next word.
“Anything else you want to talk to me about?” I ask. I give him bait. Something to go off of.
He runs a hand through his hair. Staring at me in a way that heats my core.
“I’ll be away for work tomorrow all day. I’ll be home for dinner though, maybe we could have it together?”
My heart picks up. He’s giving me crumbs, and I’m eating them up. This is not like me. But, I’ve seen the giant wall he has up, and I wanna crush it.
“How marital of us.” I wink and pick up the plate of cookies and start toward the connecting door.
“Where are you going?” Reggie’s voice cuts through the room, deep and flat.
I freeze mid-step, plate in hand. “To give Rowan his share. I told him I’d bring him some, remember?”
“You don’t need to.”
I turn, frowning. “Why not?”
“Because he doesn’t need anything from you.”
I blink, stunned by the edge in his tone. “It’s cookies, not a kidney, Regginald.”
He stands and leans back against the counter, arms folded. “You spend a lot of time over there for someone who’s supposed to be settling in here.”
My pulse spikes. “Are you seriously jealous right now? I’ve been there twice.”
I like this look on him. The first chink in his armor.
His jaw tightens. “I’m not jealous.”
I laugh; it’s a sharp, humorless sound. “Sure sounds like it. You have no interest in me, but the second I bake something for your brother, suddenly you give a damn?”
He doesn’t answer, just stares. That same unreadable stare that drives me mad.
“You’re impossible,” I mutter, shaking my head and moving toward the door again.
He pushes off the counter and catches my wrist. Not rough, but firm enough that I stop. That damn spark zaps through me again. “I’m serious, Bella.”
I turn on him, fire rising in my chest. “Because what, Irish? Because it makes you uncomfortable that your twin actually has a personality? Or because you can’t stand the idea of someone else treating me like I’m human? Maybe you shouldn’t bore me so much.”
He flinches, just barely.
“I’m not some piece in your business game, Reggie. I’m not a silent bride that you get to wheel out when it suits you. I don’t give a fuck who you or your family are. I am Bella King. And you’ll start treating me with some respect, or I’m gone.”
“Ah, my mafia Princess has arrived,” he snaps, almost amused. “You are a business arrangement. This marriage is politics, not passion. You knew that the second you agreed to it.”
The words hit like a gut punch. My throat burns. “You really are a piece of work. I didn’t agree to shit. You kidnapped me here, remember. I don’t want this.”
I throw my arms up in the air, nearly dropping Rowan’s cookies, and step towards him, tipping my chin up to him.
“I am not scared of you, Irish. I just wanted this arrangement to be more pleasant for us both. You know what, fuck you,” I spit.
He drags a hand over his face, like he’s trying to reset, but it’s too late. The damage is done.
“I’m trying to protect you,” he says finally. “Rowan’s… complicated. So am I.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Damn right you are. The difference is, he actually talks to me.”
His eyes darken. “You think he’s your friend?”
“I know he is.”
“Then you don’t know him at all.”
Something inside me breaks. I shove the plate onto the counter with a loud crack. “You know what? Maybe I don’t know either of you. But at least he makes me feel like I exist.”
We stare at each other, breathing hard, the air between us crackling with something too volatile to name.
“Bella,” he warns, voice low, but it sounds more like a plea than a threat.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “You made it very clear what I am to you. A business arrangement. Fine. I’ll act like one.”
I stick my middle finger up at him and his eyes go wide.
“Fuck you, Reggie. I never was wife material. Now I’m about to be a royal pain in your ass.”
I leave the cookies on the side on purpose and walk straight past him, brushing his arm as I go. The contact is electric, cruelly brief.
His hand twitches at his side like he wants to reach for me, but he doesn’t. He just stands there, jaw tight, watching me leave.
By the time I slam the door behind me, my chest feels hollow.
And I realize something awful.
I wanted him to stop me. Because if he did, I think I’d listen. He has that dominance in his voice and the way he holds himself alters something in my brain.
I can’t help it.
He’s an asshole, but there is something under that hard exterior I want to see. It feels like he could give me something I’ve been missing.