Page 30 of Method for Matrimony

Men had been in here before, of course. But only long enough to give me an orgasm and get out. I didn’t do sleepovers.

He was staring at me intently. His gaze was heavy and uncomfortable, especially since we were in my bedroom and my inhibitions were sufficiently lowered by the wine.

My nipples thrummed, and I did my best to ignore them.

“Not about the sleeping situation but about my mother,” he said. “Who is responsible for the sleeping situation.”

I crossed my arms, still confused. He had a weird energy about him. There was no teasing—I fully expected him to have a lot to say about sharing a bed—not even his trademark gruffness.

“We’reresponsible for the sleeping situation, sincewe’reresponsible for the whole fake marriage thing that instigated her visit,” I reminded him.

“Okay, but I know my mother is… a lot, and this isn’t what you signed up for,” he said, running his hands through his hair. He looked stressed. Apologetic.

It was cute, and I had the absolutely wild urge to comfort him.

My foot even lifted to move toward him before I changed my direction and went to mess with the pillows on the opposite side of the bed. A piece of furniture between us was good.

A piece of furniture we’d both eventually be sleeping in.

Not so good.

“Your mother is great,” I told him, focusing on the pillows.

“Don’t bullshit me, Fiona,” he growled.

That made me look at him. These fucking men and their growling. I didn’t know men made noises like that in real life until I moved to Jupiter and encountered Rowan and Kip.

Granted, I only experienced Rowan’s growling and alpha male behavior secondhand, and I thought it was hilarious. Now that it was here in my bedroom and I was married to it, I wasn’t a fan.

“I’m not,” I said honestly. “Your mother is funny as fuck, a great cook, loves wine, and welcomed me like I was family before she was even in the front door.”

It had knocked me for a six, and I had spent some time waiting for the other shoe to drop, trying to find the telltale signs of manipulation, but nope, Kip’s mum was just a great and nice person.

“We’re getting breakfast and going shopping tomorrow. She agrees with me that my sofa needs updated.”

I inwardly winced at the price of the one I wanted, especially when I added up the lawyer’s fee and visa application fee. Shit was expensive.

But I wanted a new couch.

So I didn’t have a retirement plan.

Who gave a fuck?

Kip was still regarding me. “You really mean that,” he said slowly. “You really like my mother.”

If I hadn’t seen him drink only two beers with dinner, I would’ve thought he was drunk or otherwise impaired.

I threw a pillow to the end of the bed. “Like her? I love her! Who the fuck wouldn’t? She’s great. I might’ve had a shit hand in the husband department, but I really lucked out with a mother-in-law. That could’ve been bad.” I winced even thinking about it.

Then again, my bar was pretty much on the floor.

Kip’s mother was truly unexpected. Though I really didn’t know what I expected. But from his womanizing ways, asshole attitude, and general machoism, I just figured she’d be… different.

She was warm, funny as fuck, and a joy to have around. If I could’ve picked a mother, I might’ve picked her. Of course, I’d only spent an evening with her, so she could turn out to be a raging bitch, but I didn’t think so.

Kip’s demeanor was interesting. I knew he’d been married before. And his previous wife—who Deidre did not mention—obviously didn’t have the same impression of his mother that I did.

That much was obvious.

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