His Contract Wife

Are you short?

The air grew charged, and the caterers worked faster. She muttered her thanks when a server dropped a bottle of wine on her table.

Faint voices snapped her to the present, and she turned to the entrance. The song changed as the bride and groom danced in. The man smiled at his wife, and she grinned back. Leila didn’t know them. They were Freya’s friends. More people trickled into the garden, filling up the space fast.

Her fingers brushed the wallet in her bag. It would be a miracle if she found the owner. Feeling those curious eyes on her again, she grabbed the glass and poured some wine into it. Not in the mood to drink, she held the glass to her lips, peering at him from above the rim.

Thick brows. Full lips. Chiseled jaw. Delicate nose. High cheekbones. His hair was gelled back, giving her the perfect look at his features.

The MC said something Leila didn’t hear because she was focused on this man, but it made some guests snicker. His lips quirked, like he knew the effect he had on her.

Heat warmed her cheeks, and she returned to Tinder, determined not to give the handsome stranger the satisfaction of meeting his gaze again. But the second she saw the notification on her screen, her brows furrowed. She had been paired with someone. A Kelvin. That was odd. It usually took a while for her to get paired, thanks to her bland profile. Carlson had been a lucky match.

The guy’s profile was almost the same as hers. Short and uninteresting. His display picture didn’t show his face, but a toned body and the mouth-watering six-packs made her hesitate.

What if the body belonged to Kelvin’s cousin?

One more Tinder date, and she was done. She’d stayed off men for a while, it was time for her to resume dating. Throwing caution to the wind, she hit the accept button, and a message popped in immediately.

KELVIN:

Hi.

Leila was tempted to reply immediately, but she opened the Candy Crush app instead. She didn’t want to give off the impression of being desperate.

Someone laughed in the crowd, bringing her attention back to the event. They were raising a toast to the latest couple. Leila reached for the glass of wine on her table and cheered to the air.

Where was Freya? Nearly everyone in this garden was paired except her. One more reason she hated attending weddings.

Another message came in from this Kelvin guy, and she wasted no time in replying to him.

KELVIN:

Are you busy?

LEILA:

Kind of. I’m at this wedding my best friend forced me to attend.

Force might not be the best word to describe the true story. But Leila could bet her left ankle Freya would have dragged her out of her room if she had gone there instead of coming here.

KELVIN:

Same. In my case, I lost a bet so I had to come. I’m bored out of my mind. Weddings are not my thing but a single man has no say in such matters.

KELVIN:

My sister is trying to hook me up since I won’t date her best friend.

KELVIN:

By the way, I didn’t lose the bet to my best friend. I lost it to my sister. I’m here on her behalf.

She laughed. He was rambling, but she liked it.

LEILA:

I’m bored too.

LEILA:

Oh my God. You get it. I didn’t have a choice either and now my best friend is nowhere to be found. Yay me!!!!! The perks of being single.

LEILA:

I really wish I could leave.

KELVIN:

Me too. I could be your ticket to leaving boredom land. What do you say?

Rolling her lip between her teeth, Leila nodded like he could see her. Kelvin didn’t have a face on his profile, so she had no expectations, but she couldn’t help typing another reply to him.

LEILA:

Are you short?

KELVIN:

What?

Maybe she was more traumatized than she realized.

LEILA:

Forget I asked. Count me in. I’m in Total Gardens on Corey Street. The sad lady in a black dress, red lips, little makeup, hair down, waiting for her sexy prince charming to show up. Lol. You can easily hear the music playing down the street but if you don’t, hit me up for directions. Here’s my number. Call, don’t text.

Giddy with excitement, Leila texted him her number. At least Freya would get off her back for a minute, even if this date didn’t work out. Speaking of best friends, hers was taking too long. She sent a text and groaned at the reply.

FREYA:

Something came up. Will be back in a jiffy.

All the more reasons for her to leave this place.

The chair Freya once occupied squeaked, and she looked up to see the hot stranger with a hand on it.

“Leilani,” he said. Her jaw dropped. How did he know her name? He waved his phone, and she saw his Tinder profile. Kelvin? He was her Tinder match. “Sad lady waiting for her prince charming, remember? Well, I’m here now. Be sad no more.”

Leila laughed. That line sounded so much better on text.

“Red looks really great on you, Leilani,” he added. “Is this seat taken?”

He sat before she replied, and she stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Up close, she could see his eyes were grey, the same shade as the cloud after a thunderstorm, and his lips poutier than they looked from afar.

“By the way, I’m 6’2.”

Oh. That was far from short, but she couldn’t process that because something felt… odd?

“I feel like I should know you,” she said.

Wait, she did. He quirked a brow, and she scoured her bag until she found the wallet and dropped it beside his phone.

“Looks familiar?” He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it. In a voice that barely resembled his, she muttered, “Step aside, lady. I don’t have time for this.”

Kelvin snorted. “That was you?” She nodded, and his head fell back with laughter. Her lips twitched from fighting off a smile. “I’m so sorry. My sister was ripping my head off for not being here early. Thought you were one of…”

“One of what?” she asked, clearly interested in what he didn’t say.

“Never mind, Leilani,” he said. Her brows lifted. Oh, she minded. A lot. Her curiosity was piqued, but the young man said nothing. He pointed at his wallet on the table. “Can I have this back?”

“Of course you can. It’s yours.”

They had only spoken for a few minutes, but he seemed to be a better company than Carlson. Maybe Freya was right. Carlson was just one guy. A liar. It didn’t mean all men on Tinder were liars. He tucked the wallet into his pocket.

“Thanks.”

Without meaning to, her eyes trailed to the abs hidden under his suit. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure,” he replied.

He noted every move she made, and she was acutely aware of how handsome he was. But she had to ask. She opened the Tinder app and tapped on his profile picture.

“Is this your cousin?”

His brows wrinkled. “I don’t understand.”

“Is this you or your cousin?” she mumbled. His frown deepened, and she lost her train of thought. While his profile picture didn’t have a face, it had the body of a man who took care of himself. “I mean, this is not your cousin. It’s your body, right?”