Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
JAMES
Kicking off my shoes, I hold onto Nate for support as my head spins. The warm spring air mixed with two bottles of wine definitely have not helped. I felt okay when we were in the restaurant, but it hit me suddenly and I am quite drunk I have concluded.
“You okay baby?”
There's that word again; baby . I try to ignore it, knowing that it is nothing more than just a pet name, maybe a force of habit or he is trying to play the husband role even better than he already is, but I would be lying if I said it didn't sound nice rolling off his tongue.
“Yup, think so,” I hold onto him a little tighter before I straighten myself and he leads me down towards the living room before sitting me on the tanned leather sofa.
“Let me go and get you some water,” he leans down and places a soft kiss on my forehead, lingering for just a moment and I swear my heartbeat stops for a second.
I just nod, over and over until he walks out the room. I'm not alone long when I hear a soft bell jingle and roll my head to the left to see Jeff, Nate's Norwegian Forest Cat.
“Hi Jeff,” I sigh as he pads his large paws on my stomach. and I smile at him as soft purrs surround me as he lays down over me. “You're cute,” I softly stroke his head and let my own head fall back into the sofa and I sigh.
My eyes feel a little heavier with each blink that I manage, and it doesn't matter how much I try to keep them open, I lose the fight.
It's warm, Jeff is purring, and I feel snuggly and cosy.
And that's all it took to send me into darkness.
“Night Little Ember,” I hear Nate's echo float around the room, but I can't react, I am just too tired.
I wake stiff, still dressed in my cocktail dress and I groan as brightness burns my eyes. Rolling on my side, my mouth is dry and my head throbs.
“Oh lord,” I place my hand on my head and search for my phone. Sitting bolt upright I see it plugged in over the other side of the room, resting on the side table opposite. My heart settles in my chest.
Eyes slice across the room, my door is shut and I feel a little peeved that this is how I spent my first evening here. I wanted to spend time with Nate, get to know him a little more but no, little miss let the wine go to her head. Hate wine hangovers. Me and hangovers don't mix well.
Groaning as I physically pull myself out of bed and drag my achy tired legs towards the en-suite and peel my cocktail dress off me. I needed out of the restricting clothing. It pools at my feet, and I instantly feel like I can breathe. Turning the faucet on, I let the shower warm up before I reach for a hair band and pull my hair into a messy bun and finally kick out of my panties and bra. Slipping through the glass door, I stand under the shower and let the hot water wash the night off me. It feels so good, the way it hits my skin and relieves a little of the tension that is coiled tight deep inside of me. Lathering the soap over my skin, the silkiness rinses off me and I feel slightly better. Turning the heat up, the room soon fills with steam, and I feel my body relax as the seconds slip past.
Turning the shower off, I reach for a towel through the mist and step onto the bathmat.
“James?” he calls out and I freeze just as the door opens, the mist escapes the room, and his eyes are on me.
And there I am.
Standing, wet with a towel hanging off my hand.
“Shit, sorry, fuck,” he spins quickly, covering his steamed-up glasses and I panic, wrapping the towel around my frame and ducking my head as I walk past him.
Standing in my closet, I can't bear to look at him. Embarrassment flames my cheeks and my skin prickles when I feel his breath on the back of my neck.
“James, I am so sorry.”
“It's fine,” I wave him off even though on the inside I feel like I am slowly wilting and dying into a ball of nothingness. “I didn't lock the door,” I ramble, and he steps around me, standing in front of me.
“Don't take the blame, I panicked when you weren’t in the bed...” he trails off as his eyes are ablaze, frantic even.
“I was just in the shower,” I find myself whispering, head tilting back slightly as my lips part and silence crackles around us, my heart thumping a little louder behind my rib cage. I swear if I wasn't covered by the towel then he would see it beating through my chest.
Relief swarms his face in a split second, and he lets his head hang.
“I will meet you downstairs, I'm still waiting for that coffee,” and his eyes finally meet mine after a beat, a small smile pulling at his lips as he steps closer to me, as if thinking about kissing me but he doesn't, he just dips his head again and disappears out of my bedroom, the door softly closing behind him.
Dressing in gray sweats and a cropped white tee, I let my hair fall down before running a brush through the ends and pulling it into a high pony. Walking into the en-suite, I lean over the sink unit and brush my teeth before moisturising my dry skin.
Hanging my damp towel up on the back of the door, I walk back into the bedroom. Checking my phone over quickly, I see messages from the girls and make a mental note to reply, but right now, I want to go downstairs and see where Nate is.
Stepping off the bottom step, I hear the jingle of Jeff's collar as he walks towards me, rubbing up my leg and I smile down at him.
“Hey buddy,” I crouch down and scratch behind his ear before pushing to my feet and walking down the long hallway. I smile when I see Nate leant against the work surface with his back to the stove and his eyes trail up and down my body. I try to hide the way my skin reacts to him, the way my eyes stay on the floor because if I lift them he will see the way my cheeks flame from just his gaze.
“I have been desperate for this coffee,” and I don't miss his playful tone.
“It really isn't that great,” I toe the floor through my sock, “I think you will be sorely disappointed.”
“I don't think so,” he pushes off the work surface and walks towards me, but just before he reaches me, he heads towards the chairs and takes his seat, eyes bouncing over my body.
“You will,” I sigh and step forward, reaching for the coffee pods from the pantry and popping one in the coffee machine. “How do you normally like it?” I look at him over my shoulder and catch his eyes on my ass and my cheeks burn, this time I can't hide it even if I wanted to.
“You make it how you like it,” his eyes finally lock on mine, and I spin around quickly, a small smirk playing across my lips as I spoon two sugars into each. Opening the refrigerator, I grab the creamer and wait for the coffee to fill the first mug before I switch it out as I add the creamer, stirring it continuously.
I wrap my fingers around both of the cup handles and walk towards him. He straightens his back a little, sitting all excited like a schoolboy waiting for a treat, as I place it down in front of him.
“It's frothy,” he looks at the coffee cup and then up to me.
“Is that a bad thing?” a brow rises as I take my seat opposite him, my hands wrapped around the warm cup.
“I just don't normally have a frothy coffee,” and I see the way his lip curls slightly.
“Well, there is a first for everything,” I lift the cup to my lips and take a mouthful, my eyes fluttering shut for a moment as I appreciate just how good it tastes, I’m not sure if it has always tasted this good or it just tastes better because I am hungover.
I hear the soft sound of Nate clearing his throat and I watch as he brings his own cup to his lips. He looks apprehensive and I can't stop the giggle that escapes me.
“It really is not that bad,” I roll my eyes at how dramatic he is being as he takes a mouthful, brows knitted tightly and after the first bob of his throat his expression softens, brows raised as if he is surprised at how it tastes.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” I question as I take another mouthful.
“Oh, this is good,” as if he is shocked that it actually is a nice cup of coffee.
I sit back on my seat, a silly grin on my face and watch as he takes another mouthful.
“You told me it would be good…”
He frowns a little, lips tugging at the corners.
“Well, wifey, you definitely exceeded my expectations.”
“With a cup of coffee?”
“With a cup of coffee,” he nods a little firmly and a childish laugh bubbles out of him.
“Well, I am glad to have been of service.” I throw him a flirty wink and we sit quietly, enjoying our coffees.
After our second cup, Nate pushes from the table and takes our cups and walks them over to the sink then paces out of the kitchen. I say nothing, just let my eyes follow him out into the hallway before he disappears. I sit back in my seat and wait, silence filling the large void and just as I start to worry, he returns with a manilla envelope and a boyish grin on his face.
“Okay, wife,” he sits down and places the envelope in front of me but doesn't sit down. “What would you like to drink? Are you hungry?” and I shake my head from side to side.
“The coffee has kind of settled my stomach,” and it's not a lie, but I feel a little nervous and not sure if I have it in me to eat anything just yet, I think I would rather hold off until lunch. “But I would love a water please.” He grabs a cold bottle from the refrigerator and tosses it in my direction before he reaches for another coffee cup, but this time just has a black coffee.
He sits opposite me, steaming coffee resting on the table as he reaches for the envelope and undoes it before pulling out a thick contract.
“Ready?” his brows wiggle in a playful manner and I nod, swallowing down the lump that has lodged itself in my throat.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I mean... we're already married so what is left,” I try to make a joke, but it falls flat and my stomach knots.
He slides the papers over to me and gives a soft nod. “Have a read, see what you think and if anything needs to be changed then...”
I nod, reading through the first page where it states that this is a marriage of convenience for a business transaction. My eyes lift to him for a moment as he reads it from where he is sitting. It's a contract agreeing that we will stay married for the duration of the clause and after that time, we will both agree to get an annulment.
He will pay me at the end of the agreement, in full, apart from the monies that are due in my bank at the end of the week, and then we walk away from each other, all contact being cut.
He will not lay a finger on me, not kiss me or be in any way affectionate that could jeopardise the annulment.
I will live with him until a time where my services are no longer required.
He must catch my expression because his hand slips across the table to mine, his thumb delicately rubbing back and forth over the back of my hand and teasing around the gold band that wraps around my finger.
“It sounds a lot worse than it actually is...” he trails off for a moment, “it's just a contract, to protect both of us that’s all,” and I swallow, reaching for my water and taking two big mouthfuls and nodding. “Is there anything you want to know more about?”
And there is, I want to ask about the affection, I want us to act like a real couple but then it hits me like a tonne of bricks.
None of this is real.
It is just what the contract says.
It's a business transaction.
I need something from him, and for some reason, he needs this from me.
There will be no sharing of beds, no sleepy cuddles on the sofa and no stolen kisses in the night.
I will go to my room, and he will go to his.
I continue reading and exhale heavily.
We can date once a week and attend any business or family and friends functions like a ' real ' couple, but behind closed doors we are nothing more than roommates.
I will go about my business, and he will go about his.
Like passing ships in the night.
For the next six months.
Maybe I had read these early signs all wrong... maybe he was just being kind and nothing more than that.
It was just a contract.
Slipping my hand from under his, I shudder on my intake of breath as I reach across for the pen and flick to the last page, signing and dating it before pushing from the table and walking to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me as I flop onto my bed, hands in my hair as my eyes pin to the ceiling.
Why the fuck did I agree to this?