The Wolf’s Contract Marriage by Layla Silver

Chapter 4 – Teagan

I woke to the sound of a shower running down the hall. Stretching, I blinked sleep from my eyes and rolled out of bed. The room I’d been given was bland but comfortable. It had an oddly unfinished feel to it, as if the paint, furniture, and carpet had been meant to serve as temporary placeholders and then never been replaced. I wasn’t complaining; I’d stayed in worse. It was just… curious.

Padding out into the hallway, I headed for the stairs. I wasn't going back to sleep, and my host would likely want to discuss ground rules before he left me alone in his house all day—if that was even the plan at all. So I might as well see if there was coffee to be had.

In the kitchen, I discovered that the coffee pot—a very high-end contraption made by a German company if the name was any indication though it lacked the excessive customization options one usually found on expensive machines—was on a timer and had already brewed a whole pot. Pleased, I opened cabinets and drawers until I located mugs and sugar and spoons and made myself a cup. Rinsing my spoon, I set it in the dish rack—I was determined to be a good guest, and Caelum seemed like the orderly type. I carried my coffee to the counter and flipped up the lid on the pizza box sitting there. I grinned at the discovery that it was ham and pineapple. In my experience, it was rare to find a man who appreciated that combination. My rumbling stomach reminded me that I'd skipped dinner last night, and I helped myself to a piece, leaning one hip against the counter.

I was nearly done with my second piece when Caelum appeared in the doorway. I sucked in a breath and almost choked on a chunk of pineapple.

Last night, he’d appeared to be what his dry professional photo posted to the MatchMeUp site promised—good looking with a nondescript body swathed in a button-down shirt.

This morning, he was shirtless, his bare torso tanned and muscular enough to make my mouth go dry. The hard planes of his chest and stomach screamed strength and discipline, and his pants sat loosely on his narrow hips. His dark brown hair was still damp from the shower and, as he ran his fingers through it absently, I caught the hint of curl at its edges. It was hard to focus on, though, with the flex of his muscles as he moved and the casual sensuality of his bare feet and tousled first-thing-in-the-morning look.

I'd signed up for this arrangement with a focus on doing something good, finding and building comfort and security. I hadn't expected anything impressive in bed, but if Caelum's looks and the way he walked were any indications, he had to be an absolute sin in the sack.

All of a sudden, I very much wanted this to work for entirely base and selfish reasons.

He made it two more steps before he seemed to realize I was there. Then, when he did, he stopped abruptly.

“Good morning,” I offered cheerfully.

Caelum’s eyes slid over me from head to toe before flicking pointedly away. He cleared his throat. “Good morning.” His gaze alit on the pizza box as he headed for the coffee. “Did I finish the last of the cereal and forget?”

"Oh, I don't know." I swallowed the last bite of pizza and propped my arms on the counter, surreptitiously tracking his progress across the kitchen. I shamelessly appreciated the view as he retrieved a coffee mug and poured himself a cup. He took it black with one sugar, and I made a mental note. Knowing how people took their coffee was always an easy way to score points. "I didn't go looking. Ham and pineapple pizzas are one of my favorites."

He harrumphed. "Mine, too. That doesn't mean I should be eating it."

He took a swig of coffee and finally risked looking at me again. His gaze dipped and then jerked back up, and I bit back a grin. The tank top I slept in didn't have a low neckline, but it was a little snug. It was nice to know he found the view as appealing as I did him—even if he was clearly trying to be a gentleman.

“I need to get better about keeping the house stocked with food,” he said gruffly, leaning against the counter on the far side of the kitchen as if the physical distance might protect him from whatever irksome impulses having an unexpected woman around was creating. "The court's already sent social workers by twice to inspect the house, but I wouldn't put it past them to do it again. They're like bloodhounds—if I miss a single trick, they'll sniff it out." He scowled and took another sip. "But last time I tried the damn grocery delivery service app, I got six cabbages I didn't order, and the apples were half-rotten."

"Ouch," I sympathized. Then, eyeing Caelum speculatively, I asked, "is there a store nearby? Because if you tell me what you and your daughter like, I could shop."

His beautiful dark eyes narrowed as though looking for a trap.

I held up the hand that wasn't holding my coffee mug, palm out. "I'm not trying to steal your credit card number or anything," I promised. "But my work is flexible, and if I'm going to be sticking around for a while so we can sort out who borrowed your identity to set you up on MatchMeUp, I'd like to earn my room and board." I purposely did not suggest any of the more lascivious ways I’d be happy to make myself useful while I was here.

“And if you end up staying,” he said, something between humor and wariness in his tone, “we’d have to negotiate household duties and roles anyway.”

I nodded. “I like to think I’m a decent negotiator,” I confided, “but I should point out that MatchMeUp does have a bunch of resources available for how to get started with that, too, if you like structure.”

Caelum sighed. “I do like structure,” he agreed. “I don’t like being backed into corners.”

And, it went without saying, taking a wife he didn't want to get custody of his daughter was something he effectively felt backed into doing.

Before I could think of a suitable reply, he swung a glance at the clock.

“I also don’t like being late to work, which means I need to go finish getting ready.”

“Would you rather that I stayed here, so you know where I am, or that I find somewhere else to work today until after you get home?”

He looked surprised. Then his brow furrowed. “You’re extremely accommodating,” he observed. It didn’t sound like an accusation, but it clearly wasn’t a compliment, either.

“I told you about my mother,” I reminded him, suddenly feeling exposed. I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to push the feeling away, and shrugged one shoulder in a move that I knew didn’t come off as casually as I’d have wanted. “You learn to find other places to be and ways to convince other people to let you stay.”

His expression firmed. "Get dressed," he said shortly. "I'll take you into the office with me today. We can discuss alternatives for the rest of the week tonight."

Relief rushed through me, and I snapped off a quick, playful salute. Then, grabbing a quick refill of coffee, I hurried upstairs to take a quick shower and get myself together.