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"Oh." I set down my toast, suddenly not hungry anymore. "Why didn't you mention it before?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with implications. Why had he insisted on staying at my cramped apartment when hehad his own house? Why had we slept in this small room at the clubhouse when there was another option?
"It didn't come up," Novo said, his voice tight. "And your apartment was closer to your work."
"Right." I nodded slowly, not believing him for a second. But it was none of my business. I was supposed to be paying for all our expenses.
Daisy cleared her throat. "I'll just... check on those prospects." She hurried out, leaving Novo and me in uncomfortable silence.
I stared at my plate, trying to process this new information. It shouldn't bother me—our marriage was a business arrangement, after all. But something about Novo deliberately keeping his house a secret stung in a way I wasn't prepared for.
"Matty—" Novo began, but I cut him off.
"It's fine," I said, forcing a smile that felt brittle on my face. "It makes sense. You barely know me. Why would you want me in your personal space?"
Novo's expression darkened. "That's not—"
"Really, it's fine," I insisted, standing up too quickly. The room swayed, and I gripped the edge of the table for support. "I should go check on my things. Make sure they got everything important."
I fled the kitchen before Novo could respond, following the sound of voices to the main room where the prospects were unloading boxes. My head throbbed with each step, Daisy's remedy only partially effective against the combination of hangover and emotional whiplash.
The prospects—two guys whose names I didn't know—had stacked several boxes and a duffel bag near the door. I spotted Patches sitting on top of one, and relief flooded through me at the sight of the stuffed dog.
"You must be Matty," one of the young men said straightening up when he saw me. "We got everything we could find. Clothes, toiletries, some books."
"Thank you," I said quietly, picking up Patches and hugging him to my chest. "I appreciate it."
"No problem," the other prospect, a skinny blond man, replied. "Bear's orders."
"Name's Tik Tac," the first one said seeming friendly.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Bear. Novo. My husband who had a house he hadn't told me about. Although why I was so upset I had no idea. He didn't owe me anything.
And he saved your life.
I felt the heat creep into my cheeks.
"Where should we put all this?" Tik Tac asked, gesturing to the boxes.
Before I could answer, Novo was behind me, his large hand settling on my lower back.
"Take them to my place," he said, his deep voice leaving no room for argument. "Put them in the spare bedroom."
"No, it's okay," I said. "I'm sure you have a garage or storage space. No point unpacking anything as I'm going to go back to my place soon anyway."
Novo's expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching as he stepped closer to me. "You're not going back to your apartment."
"I'll be fine," I insisted, hugging Patches tighter. "I can't impose on you forever."
"Impose?" Novo's voice dropped dangerously low. "Someone tried to kill you yesterday. This isn't about imposing."
The prospects exchanged uncomfortable glances before Novo jerked his head toward the door. "Out. Now."
They hurried away, leaving us alone with my meager possessions. Novo took a deep breath, visibly trying to control his temper.
"You're not going back there," he said, each word measured and deliberate. "It's not safe."
"I can take care of myself," I argued, even as a voice in my head screamed about how ridiculous that statement was given recent events.