Lacey
“What are you doing?” Nicholas’s voice cut through the darkness, aghast.
Despite the awfulness of the situation, I noted with some humour that it was the first time I’d heard him speak with any real emotion.
But–
My husband.
Oh, god, there wasn’t any intruder. It was my husband. I lived with my husband now.
“I’m so sorry!” I apologized quickly. “Oh my goodness, I–see, I usually sleep pretty close to my sister, and I’m really protective over her, and it’s late and I forgot we’re living together now and I read your message and thought you weren't coming back tonight. I thought someone was coming to hurt her and I–” I cut myself off. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Nicholas frowned, expression still dark, but he seemed a bit less angry than perhaps he had before.
He’d responded to my attempted attack awful quickly, too. He was strong. With quick reflexes. I’d noticed it as he’d fought off Trevor before–he came across as incredibly smooth, polished, and professional, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew his way around a fight. What sort of man was my husband, truly? What sort of life did he lead?
At the very least, considering my family’s history, I was glad I had someone like Nicholas in my life willing to protect me now. And he seemed more than suited for the task.
He set the baseball bat down against the wall. “Where is your sister, anyways?”
“Oh–she’s staying with a friend of mine for now. Selena.” I smiled sheepishly. “I don’t suppose she could come live here with us?”
“I’m a very busy man,” Nicholas said. “I can’t have incidents like this–” he gestured at the baseball bat “–happening.”
I nodded. “O-of course. I understand.”
“Make sure nothing like this happens again.”
“Definitely.”
Nicholas pursed his lips, then offered me a faint half-smile. “And your sister is more than welcome to stay with us.”
I beamed. “Thank you so much! I’ll bring her over whenever you’re ready, she’s going to be so happy…” I trailed off. “Thanks. Really.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” Nicholas handed the baseball bat back to me, handle side first. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get ready for bed. Preferably without any more baseball bat attacks.”
I picked at the hem of my nightgown restlessly. “Again, I really am sorry about that.”
Nicholas shrugged, then vanished down the hallway towards his bedroom.
I looked around the empty foyer for a few moments. I felt wide awake–I doubted I’d be able to go back to sleep easily. And, I realized, I’d gone to bed so quickly I’d completely forgotten to make myself anything for dinner. I was hungry.
I set the baseball bat down and started down the hallway. Rummaging around the well-stocked and surprisingly clean kitchen, I found little in the way of actual ingredients, but there were plenty of pantry items I figured I could pull together to resemble a meal. A baguette in the bread box, brie, apples, and preserves in the fridge, farm-fresh honey in the cupboards, and a well-stocked spice cabinet were enough for me to assemble an impressive charcuterie spread. I sliced, buttered, and toasted the baguette to make an approximation of crostini, then carefully cut the apples into thin, petal-like slices. I spooned the preserves into artful swirls around the wheel of brie in the middle of the plate and drizzled the entire dish with honey, flaky sea salt, rosemary, and thyme. I hummed as I prepared the food, bare feet stepping on the tiled kitchen floor, hips swaying to a melody I’d conjured into the night air. There’s a solace to preparing food in one’s home when you’re no longer afraid of the people you’re living with.
My mouth started to water. Just as I reached for a piece of bread, I realized this might be a good opportunity to apologize to Nicholas about the baseball bat incident, as well as express my gratitude towards him for letting Tiff stay with us. And anyways, I’d made enough food for the both of us–with plenty left over, too, I’d guess. Maybe he’d appreciate the gesture, if nothing else.
I added a final drizzle of honey to properly tie the dish together, then wiped my hands on a tea towel. When I walked over to Nicholas’s bedroom, I found the door closed, but light still spilled out from underneath, so I figured he was still awake. I knocked softly on the door twice.
The door swung inwards, revealing a disheveled-looking Nicholas wearing only a pair of sweatpants.
His eyes widened in anger when he saw me, though I couldn’t understand why. Suddenly I didn’t know what I was doing at his door. How could I have been so reckless as to disturb him? I took a step backwards and wrapped my arms around myself defensively.
“Um, sorry to bother you,” I said quietly. “I was just making myself some food, and I was wondering if you’d maybe want a late-night snack…?” As soon as I said the words, I realized how ridiculous I sounded. I shook my head. “Um. Never mind. This is silly. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I hope you have a good sleep!”
I started to walk away, but his hand closed around my wrist.
I gasped, shuddering as Nicholas pulled me towards him.
“Wait.” His eyes flashed dangerously. “Don’t go. There’s something I need you to realize.”
I sucked in a nervous breath. “Okay.”
“I will not be joining you for a late-night snack.” His grip around my wrist tightened ever so slightly, but it wasn’t painful. “I never eat late at night.”
“O-okay. Um. Is that is, or…?”
“I married a wife, not a cook.”
I tugged myself free from his grasp and scowled up at him. “Right. Of course.”
“You don’t need to do such things to win my favour. There is nothing between us. This is an arrangement, nothing else.” Nicholas glared at me. “Do I make myself clear?”
My eyes widened in horror as I realized what he thought of me. “Nicholas, no, that’s not what I’m trying to do here–you don’t understand, I meant it as a thank you–”
His attention dragged along my frame. He cut me off sharply. “Never knock on my door dressing like that again. DON’T play it.”
“No, you don’t–”
Nicholas slammed the door in my face, leaving me standing alone in the hallway.
I stared dumbfounded at the door. After a few moments, the light went off.
Great way to spend my wedding night.
I walked back to the kitchen, doing my best to tamp down my anger at Nicholas’s arrogance. Just who did he think he was? I was no happier with the arrangement than he seemed to be, but at least I had the common decency not to take it out on him. I ate my meal alone in silence, kitchen light beaming down on me. What had I done wrong? Truly, what had I done wrong?
I found a few leftover containers in the cupboards and started packing the excess food away. Why was he so angry? My skirt swished around my legs as I crossed the kitchen to return the food to the fridge. Maybe Nicholas would want it tomorrow morning.
It was then that I realized.
I was still wearing my nightgown. A halter silk dress. Is that what he just meant?
"Hey! What do you mean by that?" I yelled out.
Did he think I was trying to seduce him or think I was some kind of woman who was particularly interested in a random man's bed?
It's simply an insult to a young, unmarri–ed lady... Oh, I am married.
To my surprise, the bedroom door suddenly opened. Nicholas stepped out and I saw his bulging muscles.
"Fine. Let me show you what will happen next if you insist on knocking on the door of a man’s room in the dead of night dressed like that."
He was getting closer to me, my back against the fridge. I bet a cauliflower tumbled to the floor. I felt icy cold, both from him and the fridge air.
I was frozen, and he lifted my hands over my head and secured them to the frame.
"Wha... what’s this for?"
I felt the hot breath of him spray over the crushed hair on my forehead. My heartbeat was deafening and my cheeks were burning.
With his body pressing in as well, I attempted to wrench my hand free from his grip. But as I did, the strap on one of my sides slipped down my arm.
He noticed! I felt his breath stop for a second.
Just as I was crumbling with shame and ready to explode into even greater strength to break free, he suddenly let go of me.
He walked back to the bedroom.
Before the loud slamming of the door, I heard– "If you don't mean it, then stop dressing like that in the house. Don't forget, we're married. Legally."
