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“Well…” She smiles, placing her now empty glass on the table. “Where do I sign?”
I direct her toward my home office, following behind her with my hand on her lower back as I guide her, my eyes drifting down her body to her ass that bounces slightly with each step.
“Stop looking at my ass, Atlas. I’m not your wife yet.” She turns her head slightly, her peripheral catching me. The urge to pull her back against me and run my tongue up her neck burns in my chest. Instead, I let her feel that she’s still in control… for the moment.
Once we enter my office, I reach into a drawer, producing the contract and a pen. I place it on my desk, letting my hand linger on it briefly. “Stella,” I say softly, her eyes drifting around the room before locking on mine. “The last thing I will say about this is, you will be required to sign an NDA along with this contract.”
“NDA?” Her head tilts to the side.
“Nondisclosure agreement, meaning you cannot tell anyone about this arrangement between us. It has to seem legit.”
“Oh.” Her face falters a bit.
“Which means that Matilda needs to believe that this is real, that you and I are in love.” She lets out a shaky breath. “Want to think it over further?”
She chews her lip, crossing her arms over her chest, then uncrossing them. I think for a second she’s going to say she can’t do it but she almost half lunges at the desk, grabbing the pen and signing her name to both the contract and the NDA.
“I guess there’s no going back now.” She tosses the pen back down like it burned her and laughs nervously.
“I guess not.” I pick up the papers, placing them back in my desk drawer. “My lawyer will send you a notarized copy of the documents and as far as the payment and your room, I’ll ha?—”
“Can we just stop for a second?” she interrupts, taking both of my hands in hers and stepping toward me. “And take this in? I just signed a contract to be your wife.” Her eyes are big and round as she says the word wife, making me laugh. “I feel like we should dance or something.” She shrugs nervously.
I drop her hands slowly, walking over to my record player and carefully selecting one of my favorites, “My One and Only Thrill” by Melody Gardot. One that I happen to know is a favorite of Stella’s to sing at Freddy’s. She was singing one of her songs the first night I saw her.
“You know Melody Gardot? I love her lyrics; it’s so amazing the way she tells a story.”
“I agree, she’s fantastic.”
“Relax,” I whisper, my fingers lacing with hers as I slowly sway our bodies to the music. “It’s a celebration, right?” I turn my face to look at her, our lips so close. Her smoky voice fills the room and I wrap my arm around Stella’s waist, pulling her warm body against mine. A soft puff of air hits my cheek when she makes contact with my chest.
“Yes, a celebration.” She smiles, her eyes dropping down to my lips, then darting back up. “You just got yourself a pretty kick-ass wife.” She tosses her head back and giggles. “Or soon-to-be wife I should say. Not yours yet.” She winks and playfully jabs a finger against my chest. I still our movements. I tighten my grasp of her waist, pulling her closer against me as a surge of possessiveness rushes through me.
“You signed the contract, Stella.” My hand slides up her arm and into her hair as I grit the words out slowly, making sure she knows damn well whom she belongs to because this isn’t a game to me.
“You. Are. Mine.”
Chapter 7
Stella
“Look.” Matilda stops wiping down the counter to turn and look at me, one hand resting on her hip. “I know I said I’d give you time or space or whatever about this date with Atlas, but I am dying to know the status of things between you two. Did you say yes yet?”
I smile nervously, a giant knot of guilt forming in my stomach at the thought of lying to my best friend for the next year of my life.
“I did say yes.” I barely finish the sentence before her mouth is hanging open. I rush the next part, hoping to tell her not to make a scene or freak out, but the look on her face tells me there’s no point. “And I had dinner at his house so technically we’ve already had a date, but please do?—”
“Oh my God!” She tosses the rag in the air and walks away from it. “How am I just now finding out?” Before I can answer, she’s peppering me with more questions. “How was it? Is he big? What’s his house look like? Oh my God, tell me everything!”
The knot of guilt only tightens. I swallow hard.
“Okay, one thing at a time.” I lean against the counter, the afternoon lull setting in which means very few, if any, customers. “I got thinking about it and thinking about what you said, and I just figured, I might as well go for it, ya know? I was at Freddy’s and I—” My words catch in my throat when I realize I haven’t told Matilda about getting fired.
“And?” she says, staring at me in confusion.
“Sorry.” I laugh, hoping it’s not obvious I’m internally panicking and only adding to my growing list of things I’m hiding from Matilda. “Anyway, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, so I decided to tell him yes, and next thing I know, I’m at his place for dinner last night.”
“Last night?” she squeals. “So how was it?” She gives me a cheeky grin, lowering her voice.
