Page 8 of Meant for Them
She clearly thinks they're having a nice dinner together, but he's under a completely different impression, I see.
“I only made enough for two.” Rayna goes right back to eating, and I swear to you this man is half a second away from taking her plate away so I can have it.
Desperate to break the tension, I try to get out of this. “Wouldn't be the first time I've missed dinner. Promise I'll be fine.”
Alex is looking at me very seriously, and I know it must be killing him to not start lecturing me about something, but instead, he pushes his plate to me, and then calmly gets up and goes to the kitchen. The fridge opens and closes, so does the cabinet, and then he's pouring himself a bowl of cereal at the dinner table next to us.
“Alex, you're being ridiculous. I made you a wonderful meal, you cannot tell me you'd rather eat cereal,” Rayna says with pure venom. Aimed at me, obviously. Why blame the man?
“Morgan is a part of this household now. I pay you to cook for me, do I not? Would it have killed you to make enough for three people? I paid for the ingredients. I'm paying for your time. I'm paying for your boarding here. Is making one more plate too much of an ask?” Alex asks very calmly but sternly. And then he glares at me, not moving, breathing, or blinking until I take a bite of his food.
So maybe it's the best roasted chicken I've ever had, but I will never admit that out loud. When I give in and have a mini ‘gasm in my mouth, forcibly shutting my eyes, he nods and goes back to his cereal.
“She's just a maid. Last I heard, they don't eat with us.”
“Did you forget you’re the help as well? Please go finish your meal in the kitchen. Your sour attitude is affecting the taste of my cereal.”
I'm immensely enjoying this, but I dare not show it on my face.
Rayna’s mouth drops open. “You cannot be serious. What's so special about her? None of the other maids have ever eaten at the table with us.”
He sets down his spoon, wipes the corner of his mouth off with a napkin and puts his shoulders back. “And none of my other cooks have eaten dinner with me and my companion. I don't wish to give you any more warnings. If you cannot follow instructions, I will find somebody who can.”
Rayna scoots her chair back incredibly noisily, visibly shaking with anger as she grabs her glass of wine and carries it to the kitchen. Stomps, actually. Cute.
Once she's gone, I feel comfortable enough to speak again. “You don’t have to go through so much trouble for me.”
“Morgan, I do not do things that I do not wish to do. I know you must be in some sort of shock because you just met me, but I can only be patient for so long. I suggest you figure out quickly what it is you want from me. If you do not wish to be mated to me, if you'd rather just live here as nothing but the help, that is up to you. But do not mistake my thoughtfulness, as weakness. I have not informed Rayna of what we are to each other, because you haven't given me any hint that that's what you want. So for now, I can hold off.”
My stomach is all twisty now, making it hard to want to eat any more. “And what if I'm not good enough for you? Rayna thinks it. I feel like your sister thinks it. I'm pretty sure you would, too if you looked deep enough. Thank you for dinner, but I'd best begoing to bed. I want to be well rested for my first day of work tomorrow. Have a good evening.”
I don't feel great walking away from him after that conversation and my wolf is beating at me to go back and accept him and work our frustrations out on him. I have to be smarter than that, though. The second I give myself over to him, I'm trapped. I don't know what kind of man he is, and I intend to find out before I do something that can't be taken back.
Still think he’s a creep for offering me this job, fated mate or not.
four
Morgan
Unsurprisingly, I wake up tense. The scent of green apple lingers in my room, telling me I probably had a nighttime visitor. Either that, or the tufts of wolf fur dancing along the baseboards were there when I moved in and I didn't notice them before.
It feels bizarre to shower and not put a top on, but I have to admit standing there in heels with a garter and stockings on in the pink satin bra I finished last night makes me feel gorgeous.
Originally, I was going to wear something cottony and not as pretty, but he is paying me way too much to clean his house that's already way too clean anyway, so the least I can do is put in a little effort into looking good while I do it.
My goal is to avoid Rayna at all costs today, so even though I'm dying for coffee, I pretend like the kitchen doesn't actually exist. Until I know she's gone, anyway.
Alex gave me a general outline of what rooms he wanted cleaned when, and of course he wants me to start on his bedroom first.
His house is large but not quite stupidly so, and I only turn down one wrong hallway before I find his room. I don't know where he's at right now, but I know he could appear at any second, so I have to stay on guard.
I start by stripping his duvet off and pulling all the bed sheets and pillowcases off, then I carry those to the laundry and get the cycle running before returning to his room to gather the rest of his dirty laundry. I really don't know what he wants me to do in here other than a little bit of laundry, because he’s a very neat person. I'm pretty good at finding things when I have the time though, so I grab the cart full of cleaning supplies he pointed out briefly last night and wheel it in.
I'm on my hands and knees, reaching with a dry mop under his bed to collect any dust bunnies, when his soft footsteps enter the room. He would wait until I'm in this position to come find me.
“Fuck, Morgan. You look so good down there, baby.”
I freeze for a minute, feeling my cheeks heat. “I bet you say that to all the topless maids you bring in here.”
