Chapter 162
"Back to the room—"
My protest was swallowed whole by Adam's lips. The kiss was deep, demanding, and effectively silenced any argument I had left. By the time he pulled back, I was breathless, my skin slick with a fine sheen of sweat, my legs trembling so badly I doubted they could hold my weight.
Adam seemed to know it, too. With a satisfied smirk, he scooped me up into his arms and carried me back to the master bedroom.
The next morning, the townhouse on Marlborough Street was quiet. Adam was already in the study, handling business. I stood in the doorway, gripping the frame, refusing to take a single step inside.
"Adam," I called out. "Bring me my laptop."
He looked up from his desk, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Come and get it yourself."
I glared at him. I didn't want to go in there. The leather chair, the mahogany desk, even the couch in the corner—everything in that room felt contaminated. Just looking at the rug brought flashes of last night’s activities to my mind. My face heated up.
"I told you to bring it out," I said, crossing my arms. "Are you deaf, or just disobeying me?"
Adam sighed dramatically, but the smile didn't leave his face. He stood up, grabbed my laptop from the edge of the desk, and walked over to the door.
"Here," he said, handing it to me. "You’re very bossy today."
I snatched the computer and turned on my heel, marching straight back to the bedroom. Behind me, I heard his low, helpless chuckle.
I spent the next two hours staring at my resume.
Needing a break from the screen, I went downstairs to the small courtyard garden. The soil was cold, but the afternoon sun was warm. I grabbed a trowel and started turning the earth in the planter boxes.
"Honey?"
I paused and looked up. Adam was leaning out of the second-floor window, watching me.
"What are you doing?" he asked. "Digging a tunnel to escape?"
"I'm turning the soil," I called back, stabbing the dirt. "Once it gets a little warmer, I’m going to plant vegetables. Tomatoes, peppers. Maybe some basil."
The thought of Adam and Amy eating a salad I grew myself made me smile.
Adam grinned. "Do you need help?"
"No. You have a company to run. Go back to work."
"Alright," he laughed. "Good luck, babe. I’m rooting for you."
I looked up at him, shielding my eyes from the sun. "You too, honey. Stop slacking off."
By evening, my optimism had vanished. I sat on the edge of the bed, phone pressed to my ear, venting to Chloe.
"Not a single email," I groaned. "I sent out twelve applications, Chloe. Nothing. It’s been radio silence. I’m starting to panic."
Chloe’s voice was dry on the other end. "Maya, think about it. You aren't just Maya Bennett anymore. You’re Adam Sterling’s wife. Even if you haven't had the wedding, the marriage license is public record. The whole Boston business world knows."
I frowned. "So? What does that verify? That I’m married?"
"It makes you a liability," Chloe said bluntly. "Think about it. Who is going to hire Mrs. Sterling as an assistant? They can't yell at you. They can't overwork you. They can't ask you to fetch coffee without worrying that your husband might destroy their company in retaliation. Hiring you is like hiring an ancestor they have to worship."
I fell silent. "I didn't think of that."
"It’s the trophy wife trap," Chloe said. "Why hire you when you don't need the money?"
"So, I’m unemployable?" I asked, feeling a headache coming on. "Is that what you're saying?"
"It’s going to be tough," she admitted. "Just keep trying. Maybe someone won’t care."
"I refuse to believe Adam Sterling has that much influence," I muttered, clenching my fist. "I will find a job. I am not going to sit around this house all day."
"Your husband scares people, Maya," Chloe laughed. "Deal with it."
"It's so annoying! I knew I shouldn't have rushed the marriage paperwork. I should have found a job first."
The bedroom door opened, and Adam walked in. I sat up straight.
"Gotta go," I whispered quickly. "Bye."
I hung up and looked at him. "Finished working?"
"Yes," he said, walking over to the bed. "I came back to sleep with you."
I pulled the duvet up to my chin. "I don't need a sleeping companion."
Adam ignored me. He lifted the blanket and slid in beside me, wrapping a heavy arm around my waist and pulling me against his chest. "But I sleep better when I’m holding you."
"Well" I grumbled. "Every time you 'accompany' me, I wake up with back pain and exhaustion. My sleep quality is terrible."
"Tonight will be better," he murmured into my hair. "I promise."
"You're annoying."
"Say it again."
"What?"
"Annoying."
I rolled my eyes. "Adam, you have weird tastes."
"Just say it."
"Get out!"
"Even that sounds good coming from you," he chuckled. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. "God, you smell good."
"We use the same body wash, Adam."
"Then why do you smell so much better?" He kissed the sensitive spot below my ear. "Let me have a taste."
"No," I laughed, trying to squirm away. "that tickles."
He didn't stop. His hand moved down, landing a sharp, playful swat on my bottom. "Be good. Stop moving."
I gasped. Without thinking, I turned my head and sank my teeth into the side of his neck. I bit down—hard enough to leave a mark.
Adam froze. His eyes darkened instantly.
"Maya," he warned, his voice rough. "You’re going to be punished for that."
"I hate you," I whispered, but my heart was already racing.
Predictably, I did not wake up when the alarm went off.
When I finally dragged myself out of bed, the house was empty. Adam had taken Amy to breakfast and dropped her off at daycare. I spent the day anxiously refreshing my email, but my inbox remained empty. Chloe was right. I was radioactive.
In the afternoon, I drove to the Sunny Days center to pick up Amy. She came running out the moment she saw me, her golden curls bouncing.
"Mommy!" she shouted. But instead of hugging me, she looked up with a very serious expression.
"What is it, baby?" I asked, opening the car door for her.
"We need to call Daddy," Amy said urgently. "Daddy got hurt."
My heart skipped a beat. "What? Is he okay?"
Amy climbed into her booster seat, nodding solemnly. "This morning, I saw a big red mark on his neck. It looked really bad."
My face instantly flooded with heat. I froze, my hand on the seatbelt buckle.
"Oh?" I managed to squeak. "Did he... say what happened?"
"He said a cat bit him," Amy said, her eyes wide with concern. "A bad cat. I told him he needs to go to the hospital to get a shot because cat bites have germs. But he just laughed! Mommy, you have to call him and make sure he got his shot."
I stared at my daughter, praying the ground would open up and swallow me whole.
A cat. The cat was me.
"Okay," I said, my voice strangled. "I'll... I'll ask him when we get home."