Page 66 of The Cuddle Clause


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Seraphina laughed. “Maggie,” she said, too brightly. “Don’t be naïve. Roman’s not justanyone. He’s the future of this pack. You think this is some fairytale? You think he’schoosingyou because of love?”

My jaw locked.

“Maggie doesn’t need to explain herself to you,” I said, sharp enough to slice clean through the noise.

Seraphina’s head snapped toward me. Her fake-smile slipped.

“She doesn’t need to explainanything,” I continued, sliding into the seat beside Maggie. “But since you’re all so invested in my love life, let me clear things up.”

Maggie’s hand was in her lap. I found it under the table and laced our fingers together. Her pulse jumped.

“I’m not using her,” I said, staring Seraphina down. “Not for politics. Not for appearances. Not for anything other than the fact that she’s the love of my life.”

A few gasps. One quiet scoff. Seraphina looked like I’d slapped her.

Maggie stiffened, but I kept my hand over hers, stroking the back of her knuckles with my thumb.

“She’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me,” I said, and it wasn’t just for show. Every word was true. “So if anyone here has a problem with that, I suggest you figure out how to keep it to your fucking self.”

Callie opened her mouth. I didn’t let her speak.

“If anyonequestionsMaggie again,” I said, voice dropping to a quiet threat, “they can challenge me formally.”

That shut everyone up.

I turned toward Maggie. She looked stunned. Lips slightly parted, eyes wide. She was gripping my hand like I was the only steady thing in the room.

I tucked her hair behind her ear and murmured, “Come with me.”

I stood and pulled her with me, threading through the crowd until we found a quiet alcove tucked behind one of the curved staircases. The house was loud, but here, the world slowed just for us.

She still hadn’t said a word.

I tilted her chin up gently. Her eyes met mine—bright, unreadable, maybe still trying to catch up.

“You okay?” I asked softly.

She nodded a little too quickly. I could feel her pulse where I was touching her.

“Thank you,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “For enduring all of that. For me.”

Her brows furrowed slightly, like she didn’t understand why I was thanking her.

“Thank you. For defending me.” And then her lips were on mine.

It wasn’t practiced or perfect. It wasn’t for show. Gravity dragged us together. Maggie curled her fingers into my shirt like she needed something to hold on to. I pressed my palm to the small of her back and pulled her closer.

The kiss shifted—slow to aching, tentative to hungry. Her mouth opened for me, and I was gone. Every time she made that soft sound in the back of her throat, it took every ounce of control not to lift her up right there and?—

Her shoulder blades met the wood paneling beside a guest room door. Keeping my mouth on hers, I fumbled behind her for the door knob and pushed the door open. We stumbled inside.

She was breathless. Hair a mess. Eyes wide and wanting.

I kissed her again, and this time, she kissed me back like we’d been waiting for this all our lives.

Chapter 17

Maggie