Page 31 of Rook

“Okay, good. Now that I’ve had Detroit’s cooking, I can’t go back to ramen and gas station food.”

“I don’t blame you. Every night I miss a meal there is a bad night.”

“So, is there anything about living with you I need to know?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Do you snore? Are you a neat freak? Does having dishes in the sink drive you crazy? That kind of thing. I don’t want to step on your toes.”

“Babe, no. I’m pretty easy going. You don’t have to tiptoe around me.”

I got the feeling because of some things she’d said, some ways she reacted—the thing about the gift basket comes to mind—that Tessa had a history with someone that was… —let’s go with—‘difficult’ in her past. I was leaning toward it being at least borderline abusive, but because she was careful not to mention exes, I couldn’t know for sure.

I didn’t want her to think that any of that abuse was ever going to happen with me. Even if our relationship was fake, the trust was going to be real.

I wanted her to know that from the jump.

“You need to get that?” I asked as her phone beeped.

“Work,” she said after checking it. “Okay. I am going to take this one job. Then I will go get my stuff.”

“I’ll meet you at the clubhouse. We can have dinner there before making our way back here.”

“That’s an even better idea,” she said, giving me a smile.

My gaze slid to her lips, and the memory of them against me flashed through my mind, making desire ignite through my system.

Everything was going right.

Save for the whole actually being attracted to my future wife thing.

That was definitely not in the plans…

CHAPTER NINE

Tessa

I was a little sad to leave the clubhouse; I won’t lie. It wasn’t the clubhouse itself. Or even the people. It was the whole having something of my own thing.

It was really the first time in my whole life where I had a space all to myself. No one came into the room. No one told me what to do in there.

It was freedom like I’d never known.

That said, it was never meant to last. I was always meant to move in with Rook, to share his space, to be under his thumb.

I knew he said he didn’t have any rules, that he was easy-going to get along with.

Experience told me that, over time, I would rub on his nerves. He would get annoyed with me, would put me in my place.

I needed not to get so comfortable that I overstepped.

Or, of course, to believe Rook and all of his assurances about how he would treat me.

I had to be careful. I needed to play this right. My future and safety depended on it.

“You’re quiet,” Rook observed as we moved away from the dining table and headed to the freight elevator.

“Am I?” I asked, knowing I was. I was lost in my swirling thoughts.

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