Chapter Six
~ Connor ~
I perched on a stool in Julian's ridiculously pristine kitchen, watching him scroll through his digital planner with the same intensity generals probably use when planning invasions.
The morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, making the stainless-steel appliances gleam like they were auditioning for a magazine spread.
Two days into this marriage and I still felt like an intruder in someone else's perfectly curated life.
"Your Tuesday is color-coded," I observed, leaning closer to peek at his screen. "Is purple for 'terrorize subordinates' or 'count money like Scrooge McDuck'?"
Julian's lips twitched almost imperceptibly. "Purple is for board meetings. Red is for terrorizing subordinates."
"Of course it is."
I reached for my coffee mug—some artisan ceramic thing that probably cost more than my monthly food budget—and watched as Julian methodically scrolled through his day.
Each hour was mapped out with military precision, leaving no room for spontaneity or, heaven forbid, fun.
Unable to resist, I plucked the tablet from his hands, ignoring his sound of protest. "Let's see what the great Julian Montgomery has planned for today."
"Connor." His tone held a warning, but I detected something else beneath it. Amusement? Indulgence?
I scrolled through the immaculate schedule. "Eight-thirty, conference call with Tokyo. Nine forty-five, review quarterly projections. Eleven-fifteen, terrorize marketing department—oh wait, that's just 'marketing review.' My mistake."
Julian reached for the tablet, but I swiveled on the stool, holding it just out of his reach.
"Twelve-thirty, lunch with corporate lawyers." I wrinkled my nose. "Sounds thrilling. Two o'clock, budget approval. Three-fifteen, call with London office." I flicked my gaze to Julian, who was watching me with those dark, unreadable eyes. "Do you have bathroom breaks penciled in too?"
His eyebrow quirked up. "Only the recreational ones."
I choked on my coffee, feeling it dribble embarrassingly down my chin. Did Julian Montgomery, CEO extraordinaire and master of the corporate universe, just make a sexual joke?
Holy shit. Who knew he had it in him?
I grabbed a napkin to wipe my chin, catching the way Julian's eyes tracked the movement, lingering on my mouth a beat too long.
Three days ago, I was worrying about making rent. Now I'm married to a billionaire who makes dirty jokes over breakfast. Life comes at you fast.
"I'm sorry, did you just imply that you schedule time for... bathroom recreation?" I asked, unable to keep the grin off my face.
"Time management is essential in my position," Julian replied smoothly, but the heat in his eyes told a different story.
I suddenly became acutely aware of how underdressed I was in my jeans and t-shirt, sleeves rolled up because I'd been too warm in the perfectly climate-controlled penthouse.
Julian, of course, looked impeccable in a crisp button-down shirt, the collar open just enough to reveal the hollow of his throat where I'd pressed my lips last night.
Get it together, Matthews. Montgomery.
Whatever.
"Well, I'd hate to throw off your carefully structured day," I said, sliding the tablet back across the counter to him. "Though I notice there's no time blocked out for your new husband."
Something shifted in Julian's expression—a softening around the eyes, a slight relaxing of his perpetually straight shoulders. "I thought perhaps we could improvise that part."
The words sent a rush of heat through me that had nothing to do with the coffee. Before I could respond, Julian's phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced down at it, and I watched as his expression shuttered, CEO mask sliding back into place.
"What is it?" I asked, sensing the shift in the air between us.
"Jake D'Amato and Michael are on their way over. Apparently there's something urgent they need to discuss."
"Your business partners?"
"Jake is both partner and friend. We went to university together," Julian said, already wheeling back from the counter, domestic moment forgotten as he shifted into business mode. "They'll be here in twenty minutes."
I fought down a stab of disappointment. So much for our morning together. "Should I make myself scarce?"
Julian paused, looking up at me with an expression I couldn't quite decipher. "No. You're my husband now. There's no need to hide you."
My husband. The words still felt foreign, like a coat that was slightly too big but might fit perfectly with time.
"Right," I said, sliding off the stool. "Should I change? Put on one of those fancy new outfits?"
Julian's eyes swept over me, and despite the business call that had just interrupted us, I felt the familiar heat of his gaze like a physical touch. "If you'd like. Though you look..." He paused, as if searching for the right word. "Approachable. It might be good for them to see that side of you."
The side that isn't wrapped in designer clothing worth more than a used car? I wanted to ask, but held my tongue.
"I'll stick with casual, then," I agreed, running a hand through my hair in a futile attempt to tame it. "Though I make no promises about behaving myself."
That earned me another almost-smile. "I wouldn't expect you to."
I followed Julian as he wheeled toward the living room, mentally preparing for my first "public appearance" as Julian Montgomery's husband. Not just to hotel clerks or store associates, but to people who actually knew him—who might question what a billionaire CEO was doing with someone like me.
The thought made my stomach clench, but I squared my shoulders anyway. I'd survived my own mother trying to drug and sell me. I could handle a couple of Julian's rich friends.
Probably.
Julian's associates arrived with the punctuality of Swiss trains, exactly twenty minutes after the call. I watched them step off the private elevator into the foyer, two men who couldn't have been more different from each other.
The taller one—Jake, I guessed—had the easy confidence of money, his designer suit worn like a second skin. The other man was built like a security vault, his expression equally impenetrable as his eyes performed a threat assessment the moment he saw me standing beside Julian's wheelchair.
Michael. The human granite block I'd met briefly after our hasty wedding ceremony.
"Julian," Jake said, striding forward with a grin that softened his sharp features. "Always a pleasure to—" He stopped short when he spotted me, his eyes widening slightly before he recovered. "And who's this?"
Julian's posture shifted subtly, straightening even further in his wheelchair. "Jake, this is Connor Montgomery. My husband."
The word hung in the air for a beat too long. I could practically hear the mental calculations taking place behind Jake's eyes.
Showtime.
"It's great to finally meet you," I said, stepping forward with a warm smile and extended hand. "Julian's told me so much about you both."
A bald-faced lie, but delivered with enough sincerity that Jake took my hand without hesitation. His grip was firm but not challenging—the handshake of someone who didn't feel the need to prove anything.
"Husband?" he repeated, his surprise evident despite his polished manners. "This is... unexpected."
"Love often is," I replied smoothly, as though I'd been rehearsing this moment rather than improvising wildly. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water? It's a bit early for anything stronger, but Julian keeps an impressive bar."
Michael hadn't moved, his eyes still locked on me with the intensity of a sniper scope.
"Water is fine," Jake said, recovering quickly. His eyes darted between Julian and me with undisguised curiosity. "When did this happen?"
"Recently," Julian replied, his tone making it clear the subject was closed. "Let's move to the living room. Connor, would you mind getting those drinks?"
"Of course," I said, letting my hand rest briefly on Julian's shoulder as I moved past him.
The contact was brief, casual to anyone watching, but I felt the muscles in his shoulder tense under my touch. His eyes flickered up to mine for just a moment, dark with something that made my pulse quicken.
Two can play this game, Mr. Montgomery.
I headed toward the kitchen, feeling Julian's gaze on my back as I walked away. In the reflection of the glass walls, I caught Jake leaning down to whisper something to Julian, his expression a mixture of surprise and amusement.
In the kitchen, I took longer than necessary arranging drinks on a tray, giving them time to settle in.
Through the open concept layout, I could see the three men in the living area.
Julian had positioned his wheelchair at an angle that let him keep an eye on both the men and the direction of the kitchen.
Keeping tabs on me, or making sure I was okay?
I arranged sparkling water with lemon slices for everyone, adding some of those fancy little cookies Mrs. Chen had left on a plate. Playing house was easier than I'd expected, though the surreality of the situation hadn't faded.
Three days ago, I was hiding from my own mother. Now I was serving refreshments to billionaires in a penthouse that had my name on the lease.
Well, my new name.
When I returned with the tray, the conversation paused. I caught the tail end of something about "security concerns" before they smoothly transitioned to market projections.
"The view is spectacular," I commented to Jake as I handed him his water, deliberately keeping the conversation light. "I'm still getting used to waking up to it every morning."
"I imagine there are many things about living with Julian that take getting used to," Jake replied with a knowing smile. "His schedule alone is enough to drive most people mad."
"I've noticed," I said, returning his smile with one of my own. "I had to check his planner this morning to see if I was penciled in anywhere."