Chapter 12 Not Like This
After dinner, Clara Bennett brought over a plate of sliced fruit and sat beside Mason Reed.
He'd been glued to his phone, and curiosity got the better of her. She leaned in for a peek, expecting a game, but instead saw a foreign website—photos of sharp-dressed men, all looking like high-flying tycoons.
Clara Bennett blinked, startled, just as Mason Reed turned his head. She was so close their noses nearly brushed, and they froze, staring at each other. Her cheeks burned, her heart hammering.
"What's up?" Mason Reed asked, his voice low.
"N-Nothing..." Clara Bennett stammered, scooting to the side. Her hands fidgeted nervously as she forced a smile. "You're reading news?"
"Yeah, financial stuff."
"You know about that?"
He turned to her again, his hawk-like eyes glinting with a half-smile. "What should a guy who's fought and done time know about, then?"
"That's not what I meant!" Clara Bennett's face flushed crimson. "I just... didn't expect you to know so much."
The air stilled, settling into an awkward silence. Clara Bennett felt a twinge of nerves, but seeing Mason Reed's calm demeanor, her anxiety seemed almost silly.
They were legally married, yet sitting together felt so stiff—they could barely keep a conversation alive.
She tapped her head, inwardly chiding herself for being so clueless.
The little gesture didn't escape Mason Reed's notice.
A faint smile—one he didn't even register—flickered across his lips.
He set his phone down, spearing a piece of fruit with a fork, and asked casually, "Got something to say?"
"Hm?" Clara Bennett shook her head. "No."
"Oh," he said, glancing at her. "Is there enough money at home?"
"Why ask that out of nowhere?"
"Just making conversation," Mason Reed replied, his tone even. "Isn't that what other couples talk about? Everyday stuff?"
Clara Bennett bit her lip, staying quiet.
"Or... should we take this somewhere else?"
He nodded toward the bedroom, his deep voice laced with a hint of something suggestive, his warm breath inching closer. Clara Bennett met his intense gaze—sparks seemed to dance in his eyes.
She shifted aside, but his strong hand caught her waist, pulling her into his arms.
Clara Bennett went rigid.
Mason Reed's eyes burned hotter.
His grip tightened around her waist, but he stopped there. He studied her—her eyes squeezed shut, trying to relax, yet her trembling frame betrayed her fear of being this close to a man for the first time.
A wave of tenderness surged in Mason Reed's chest.
He didn't want her like this. It should happen naturally, not forced.
"You must be tired," he said, his voice husky. "Rest up."
She blinked, stunned, as the pressure around her eased and the charged heat in the air cooled.
She couldn't quite name the feeling in her heart.
This man was supposed to be the closest person to her in the world, yet they'd only known each other a handful of days.
And there was still that knot inside her—she was a substitute bride. Did Mason Reed even know?
She'd mustered the courage to confess she wasn't Evelyn Bennett, but Clara Bennett, more than once. Each time, the words stalled at her lips. What if he felt deceived by the Bennetts and lost it? With his temper and history of brawls, who knew how bad it could get?
Her eyes flicked to the sandbags and gloves in the yard, and she quickly buried the thought.
"I said rest. Why're you spacing out?" Mason Reed's voice pulled her back.
Clara Bennett snapped to attention, heading for the bedroom, when her phone rang—it was Ethan Young.
"Sis, don't worry! Mom's medical bills are covered!"
"What?" Clara Bennett couldn't believe her ears. "Where'd you get the money?"
"Evelyn dropped it off today," Ethan Young said with a laugh. "She brought a diamond necklace—said it's from Dad, your dowry. Worth thirty thousand!"