Monthly Bonus Content #3—'This town and their warehouses...' (Morgan Valentine's Special) (Patreon)

I fuss with my clothing as I stand outside Gladbrick Real Estate Agency. Towering skyscrapers and concrete buildings loom down on us, casting thick shadows, their windows like a thousand eyes that accuse me of being an out-of-towner.

The stench of the polluted fog sticks to my skin, and I try keep my lips pressed firmly shut to avoid breathing in as a lorry thunders past belching out black exhaust fumes.

“So you know the plan?” I ask, twisting around to Morgan, who is leaning against a lamppost.

She, surprisingly, doesn’t look so out of place among the throng of the working crowd. Especially as the halo of smoke from her cigarette blends so well into the smog.

“Yeah, I got it,” she replies, throwing the cigarette onto the stained pavement and crushing it with the toe of her boot. “Get the realtor to talk. Find out what the asshole is really planning to buy.”

“Okay good.” My body turns back to the office, its crystal-clean windows and pristine white door stark against the dull grey concrete of the building surrounding it. From the looks of the gold-framed plaque beside the door, the real estate office occupies only the ground level, which should make things a lot less intimidating.

Tension cuts a path up my spine when an arm slinks around me, but I instantly relax when I feel the familiar press of Morgan’s body against my side.

“Getting a little cosy?” I ask, though regret the words instantly in case they drive her away.

A lazy smile seeps across her lips as she meets my eyes. “That’s not a surprise from someone you’re married to, is it?”

“Right,” I breathe out, remembering our cover story. “We’re married. Looking for a place to settle down.”

A wrinkle creases across her freckled nose.

“It’s only a cover story,” I remind her before frowning. “But seriously, the idea of being married to me offends you that much?”

Her shoulders droop. “You’re really going to ask me that right now?”

I fold my arms and slip out of her hold. “Is there a better time to ask?”

“Come on my sweetest newlywed, or we’ll never get this finished.” Sarcasm punches through every word of that sentence before she groans and pushes open the door to the office.

Disappointment and annoyance create a vacuum in my stomach that not even focusing on the mission ahead can fill…and I try not to linger too much on just why those feelings are leaving such a hole in the first place.

It’s just a cover story.

The reminder forces my feet on to follow after her.

--

Stepping inside the office of Gladbrick Real Estate is somewhat surreal. Outside is the relentless battering onslaught of noise and stench, but inside this space is serene with a slight waft of rose lingering in the air.

A man dressed in a tight suit moves towards us with a well-practiced smile. “Can I help you?”

“We have an appointment,” I state, stepping in front of Morgan a little.

“Ah, I see.” He whips out an electronic tablet from apparently thin air and begins scrolling the screen. “And your name please?”

My gaze wants to drift to Morgan’s so desperately, just to catch her reaction, but I force my eyes to stay on the tablet. “We’re the [Surname]s.” It’s the first time I’ve used my surname in a plural sense.

It’s just a cover story. I let out a breath.

There’s the faintest scoff from beside me…I don’t know what else I was expecting.

“There you are.” The man looks at us after checking us off the list, his mechanical smile still in place. “Come this way. You’re lucky—you’ll be meeting with our top realtor, Isadora Iglesias. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

He leads us to another room, which I assume is Ms. Iglesias’ office considering the sizeable shiny white desk in the center.

The door clicks shut.

Neither of us say anything.

The room is sparse but splattered with a few green plants to add some life to the barren space. There are no personal items or mementos, barely anything to make it look a little less—

“It’s a bit stark,” Morgan comments.

I release a breathy chuckle. “I didn’t think clutter was your thing.”

“No. But the less items there are in a room, the more obvious it is when people—like us—try snooping in it.”

“Oh.”

Just as the idea of snooping pops into our heads, the door opens once again, and a tall woman with a spectacular smile waltzes inside.

“I’m so glad you’re both here,” she says, moving around us while gesturing at a couple of seats. Morgan opts to remain standing to one side, so I take the chair. She expertly ignores Morgan’s hesitance with barely a shift of her professional mask before sitting behind her desk.

She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a pile of brochures. “I have some wonderful properties to show you.” Her gaze slides between us. “This will be your first house together?”

I nod. “Yes. We’re only just married. We were living in an apartment before this. Weren’t we, dear?” I half-turn my body in the chair to face Morgan with a challenging smirk.

She takes a long breath before forcing a smile. “You explain things so well, darling.”

Although the nickname is somewhat sniped in my direction, hearing it from her lips sends a surprising shiver across my skin.

I quickly swivel back around to the realtor. “We were actually hoping for somewhere outside of the city.”

“Mhmm,” she says, already filing through her brochures in search of something.

“A friend of ours recommended a place called…hm….” I place a finger to my lips and sweep my focus over my shoulder casually back to Morgan. “What was that sweet little town called that Redland recommended us?”

She closes the gap between us in a few paces, placing her hands on my shoulders. “I think it was Wayhaven, wasn’t it?”

“Oh yes! Of course,” I reply with a nod. If only my old drama teacher could see me now…there’s no B- performances today!

Ms. Iglesias’ fingers instantly draw to a stop. She flicks her head up, her short black waves of hair jumping around her face with the quick motion.

“Redland? You mean, Mr. Redland Topher?” she asks.

We both smile in unison.

“Yes. He’s an old friend of my wife’s,” I explain, placing my hand over Morgan’s on my shoulder. So far, I’ve kept a pretty good game face, but my superb acting cracks when she entwines her fingers gently into mine. “I, uh….” I clear my throat to get my focus back. “He said he was buying property there himself.”

She practically throws away the pile of brochures she had previously and scoots closer. “Ah, I didn’t realise. Well in that case, you’ll probably be wanting to look at our more select houses.” A small knot develops between her thick brows. “I’m afraid we don’t have any residential properties available in Wayhaven—"

"Right,” Morgan interrupts. “He’s buying a warehouse, isn’t he?”

Her eyes lose some of the professional warmth as they narrow. “If that’s what he told you.”

A shiver of tension vibrates across the office, and I get a feeling we’re starting to lose her.

I lean forward, letting my hand slip from Morgan’s and placing it on the desk. “Not that it matters, obviously. We’re here to buy for ourselves, not Redland.” My laugh echoes through the room, sounding very much like someone else.

She relaxes a little and leans back. “Of course. If you’ll just excuse me, I’ll be right back with some properties I’m sure you’ll absolutely fall in love with.”

Her chair barely makes a squeak across the rug as she gets up and leaves.

As soon as she’s gone, I let out the breath I’d been holding and fall against the desk.

“You did good,” Morgan comments. “Her heartbeat spiked the second she started getting suspicious, but you calmed her down.”

I stand from the chair and pace slightly. “You pushed it a bit, didn’t you?”

She shrugs. “How else were we supposed to get the information?”

I sigh and throw her a pointed look. “You came specifically because you have the ability to make her talk.”

“I won’t use that when you’re here,” she states, marching to the other side of the realtor’s desk.

I trail behind her with my teeth clenched. “But wasn’t that the whole point of you coming?”

“I came to back you up,” she corrects, leaning over the desk and clicking some buttons on the keyboard.

“But I thought….” I shake my head. “I don’t get it. This could have been over already if you just used your pheromones. Why does my being here make a difference? It’s not like it’s going to work on me.”

She straightens herself back up and looks me in the eye. No, she gazesat me in a way that causes an eruption of heat to trickle through me.

Worry makes the grey of her eyes swirl as her brows dip to shadow them.

“It won’t work on you, but it could hurt you.” She bites at her lip as her hand lifts. “You think I’d do something like that?”

I hold my breath as she lets her fingers hover near my jawline, her thumb so close to my lips I ache for the touch of it, even after feeling it so many times before.

Weirdly, she lets it drop away before it touches.

She swings back around to face the screen. “Anyway, I didn’t need to use it. She left her computer unlocked. His details are right here.”

The whirr of the nearby printer makes me flinch. A page whizzes out of the machine, and I just about get my brain to work enough to grab it and shove it into my pocket.

Morgan’s gaze flashes up. “She’s coming back.”

“Shit, get back around the desk—” My words are halted as Morgan draws me close, her lips hovering near mine, the longing ache setting off in me for the second time in the space of a couple of minutes. She presses against me so I have to back into the desk behind.

“Just go with it, darling.” A smirk lines her lips so close to mine.

I hold her gaze, resting my hand on her neck and feeling the slightly frantic pace of her heartbeat against my fingers. “Whatever you say, dear.”

Her warm breath washes over me as her body weight sinks further against mine. I angle my head closer and capture her lips, able to ignore the smokey taste as her hands begin exploring beneath the bottom of my shirt.

The door opens.

“Here you go, I hope—oh!” The realtor almost trips over her own expensive high heels.

I twist around in Morgan’s grasp and give as best a sheepish smile as I can, snapping my shirt back down even as Morgan seems eager to continue. “I’m so sorry. We’re still in the honeymoon phase.”

She tries to clear her throat but instead hacks out a cough and glances away. “I, uh…understand. Why don’t you take these and have a look through before getting back to me?” The brochures are waved somewhat in our direction as she keeps her gaze averted.

I hold back a chuckle, untangling myself from Morgan, whose grasp tightens a little before hesitantly letting go.

“Thank you so much. We’ll definitely give you a call when we’ve found something,” I mumble, taking the brochures and speeding out of the room with a grinning Morgan behind me.