Method for Matrimony – Jupiter Tides Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Anne Malcom Advertisement

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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.

Though he wasn’t showing off being practiced at being a good husband. He seemed practiced at being a guilty one.

Guilty for having a mother who loved him, smiled often, and seemed generally excited about life in general.

Very interesting.

Not my business.

“Now that’s sorted, I need to go to sleep,” I said. “I may not be getting up at an ungodly hour tomorrow on account of Nora giving me the day off without notice—yay for being besties with the boss!” I grinned at him. “But I am tired, and I don’t want to go through any more with you. I need to go do my skincare routine, which isn’t a routine so much as haphazardly trying to get makeup off my face and maybe slathering on some oil.” I pointed at Kip. “Don’t tell Nora that. She’s serious about skincare routines. Anyway, we have to sleep together tonight, but I don’t have to talk to you. And I swear to fuck, if you try to touch me in your sleep or I so much as sense a boner, I’m making myself a pair of ball sac earrings,” I promised.

Then I stomped into the bathroom. I took much longer than usual and pointedly ignored Kip when he passed me for his turn. Then I shed my clothes quickly, donning an oversized tee and flannel pajama bottoms, and curled up in bed, pretending I was asleep when he emerged from the bathroom.

Pretty damn cowardly.

But it served me well when the bed depressed and Kip’s scent attached itself to my sheets.

I liked it. A little too much.

I half expected him to push his luck and try to get close to me. But he didn’t. He kept the distance between us.

And that was good.

I wasn’t disappointed.

kip

Getting out of bed without waking Fiona turned out to be easy. In fact, both her alarm and mine had gone off rather loudly without her even moving. I’d had to half climb over her in order to silence her phone.

Nothing.

She slept like the fucking dead.

Which made it all the more fucking creepy that I was half on top of her and hard once I looked down at her sleeping form and saw the tee she was wearing had slipped off her shoulder, exposing the smooth, tanned skin.

I was getting hard over her shoulder.

And her face. It was scrunched in sleep, not peaceful. It seemed like she was arguing with someone even though she was unconscious.

That made me smile. And I had the utterly fucked-up urge to brush away the hair obscuring her face.

I shook myself out of that.

Jesus, sleeping with her had really shaken me up. That and my fucking mother’s presence.

I forced myself out of bed and into a cold shower, shunning all thoughts of Fiona and her fucking shoulder from my mind.

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