Page 47 of Impending Consent

"Noted, counselor. See you tomorrow."

I ended the call and stared at the phone. I prayed that Frederick's case hadn’t just gotten more complicated. This was supposed to be an easy win and my new husband had become a distraction I was starting to appreciate.

Chapter 12

Rival

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.

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