Page 29 of The Cuddle Clause
“You don’t have to be nervous,” I said quietly. “Just be yourself. Lucien will like you.”
Doubt flashed in her eyes. “From the sound of it, I can’t just be myself. I have to be...polished.”
I didn’t like the way she said that. Like being herself wasn’t enough.
“Hey,” I said. “You won’t have to pretend. And if you say anything that feels off to him, I’ll turn it into a joke. I’m good at redirecting. Lucien and I are close. If I tell him you’re the one I want to mate with, he won’t push unless there’s something blatant.”
Maggie huffed softly, a smile tugging at her mouth. “I’ll try not to beblatant.”
We pulled into the parking lot and made our way up to the apartment. I tossed the keys on the counter and flopped onto the couch dramatically, exhaling like I’d just finished running from the law.
She sat on the arm of the couch beside me. I looked down. Then froze.
Her shoes.
My eyes narrowed. “Mags,” I said slowly, “have you been wearingthosethe whole time we’ve been home?”
She blinked innocently. “What, these? Yeah.”
I placed a hand over my heart. “That’s a flagrant violation of Article Seven,and I’m too emotionally raw to forgive you.”
Then I executed the most dramatic couch flop in recent history, groaning into the cushion like I’d been mortally wounded. She laughed.
That sound made everything—tomorrow, Lucien, the whole act—worth it.
Chapter 8
Maggie
I staredat my reflection and tried not to overthink it. Which, of course, meant I was absolutely overthinking it.
The new outfit—a fitted skirt in deep plum and a soft, eggshell-cream blouse—actually looked good. Like,goodgood. Polished but still me. My legs looked longer. My waist existed. Best of all, I didn’t feel like an imposter in someone else’s skin.
I’d pulled my hair into a top knot, because nothing screamed “semi-professional and slightly terrified” like a bun I tried way too hard to make look effortless. I’d kept the makeup light—just enough blush to look alive, a coat of mascara to make me look awake, and a sheer pink gloss that I told myself came across as approachable and emotionally stable but in reality was the only one I could find in my bag.
I stared at the mirror for another beat, resisting the urge to change everything. Then I turned off the light and stepped out into the living room.
Roman was standing near the window, checking something on his phone. He was wearing dark jeans and a short-sleeved button-up shirt that fit really well. The sleeves hugged his arms, and the top button was left undone, revealing just a hint of collarbone that my brain decided to notice without my consent.
He looked up and smiled. It wasn’t the usual smug smirk or mischievous glint. This smile was warm, steady, and a little too sincere.
“Shall we?” he asked.
My feet didn’t move at first. My brain glitched for a full two seconds.Why did he have to look like that?He wasn’t just pulling-it-together handsome. He was steal-your-breath, meet-my-parents, ruin-your-life handsome.
I somehow managed to nod, grab my bag, and follow him out.
We drove in comfortable silence, but occasionally, tension flared between us. I tried to focus on the scenery instead of the way Roman’s forearm brushed against the steering wheel or how the car smelled like cedar and his cologne.
When we hit the tree line just past the edge of town, everything changed. The pack territory spread out in front of us like something out of a magazine shoot forRustic Gothic Estate Weekly.Fenced-in pastures. Rolling green hills. Impossibly manicured gardens. Gravel crunched under the tires as we wound up the drive, and then I saw it.
The mansion.
Three stories of stone wrapped in ivy and arrogance. Tall, arched windows that were framed in wrought iron gleamed like mirrors. Balconies lined the second and third floors, and towering oaks stood like sentinels along the perimeter. The front doors were double-wide and carved with wolves chasing each other in a circle.
“Okay,wow.This is… not what I was expecting.”
Roman chuckled. “It’s been in the pack for decades. Maybe a century. The outside’s been restored a few times, but the bones are original.”
