Chapter 23
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Landon protested from the couch.
“Then what did you mean?” Amelia yawned, already snug in bed. The leftover warmth from where he’d been lying, combined with his familiar scent, made it even cozier. She was ready to drift off any second.
“I meant we should share the bed,” Landon huffed. The couch was so uncomfortable that he didn’t want to spend another minute on it.
“No way. Last time, you accused me of trying to seduce you,” she teased, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. The thought of their past bed-sharing incidents made her cheeks flush. Back then, she’d been mortified. But now? She found it amusing, and maybe a little triumphant.
She thought, “I didn’t sleep with any guys in my last life, but in this life, I did. Not only that, I’ve touched his abs and even yanked down Landon’s pants once. That feels good.”
While Amelia enjoyed her victory snuggle in bed, Landon was having a miserable time. The couch was a torture device, and he was done pretending otherwise. “Amelia,” he growled, “put me back on the bed.”
“Just sleep. Stop making a fuss,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow.
“Amelia, are you rebelling against me?” Landon asked.
Amelia threatened, “If you keep bugging me, I won’t go to the office tomorrow.”
Landon was practically vibrating with frustration. He thought with fury, ‘She’s threatening me now? Good for her. But there’s nothing I can do yet!’
He silently vowed to make her pay for this once he was back on his feet.
Amelia slept soundly in the bed, while Landon stared at the ceiling in silent fury. The night dragged on for him, a blur of discomfort and exhaustion.
By the time sunlight filtered through the curtains, Amelia stretched and sighed in satisfaction, “Oh, nothing beats sleeping on a bed.”
Landon ignored her, though the temptation to lecture her was strong. He told himself that she was the only one who could communicate with him now.
If he stayed silent too long, she might think he was asleep and leave him alone for the entire day. Then he’d have to stay alone until she returned from work.
“Don’t be mad,” Amelia said with a grin. “Look, I’ve been on the couch for nights. How about we take turns to sleep in the bed? Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are yours; I take Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. As for Sundays, since you’re the patient, you get the bed.”
Amelia climbed out of bed and moved to drag him off the couch. If his mother saw him like this, she’d have her head on a platter.
She had to get him back in bed before Gloria showed up.
But Landon was heavy—ridiculously so. Pulling him off the bed last night had been easier than getting him back on.
With considerable effort, she got him to the edge of the bed and braced herself to lift him.
Just as she managed to hoist him up, a sudden sound startled her. She flinched, her strength giving out. Landon toppled forward, pinning her beneath him, and they both hit the floor with a thud.
“Amelia,” Landon groaned, sucking in a sharp breath. “Are you trying to kill your husband?”
“Are you hurt?” she stammered, panicked as she struggled beneath him, oblivious to how compromising their position was.
“You wrenched my back!” he gritted out.
“What should I do?” she asked, her voice small.
“Call Wesley,” he said, his tone strained.
“Okay, okay,” Amelia wriggled, trying to slide out from under him and grab her phone. But Landon’s weight was solid, and she couldn’t budge. After several failed attempts, she huffed, “Landon, you’re too heavy. I’m getting squished here.”
Landon didn’t respond, mostly because he was desperately trying to keep his composure. Her movements weren’t helping, and with no bra on and just her thin pajamas, he could fully feel her curves.
His body reacted before his brain could stop it, making the situation even more awkward.
“Landon, I can’t move. What now?” she asked in frustration.
“Roll me to the side,” he muttered, his voice thick. He knew she couldn’t support him up, and rolling him to the side might seem possible for her.
She hesitated, “But what if I hurt you again?”
Thinking of his waist, Landon inhaled deeply. “I’ve already resigned myself to it.”
“Oh, sorry,” Amelia whispered. His words only made her guilt skyrocket. She hesitated for a long while and finally said, “Landon, I–I’m scared…”
Just then, Gloria knocked on the door and asked, “Amy, are you awake?”
“Yeah, Gloria, come and help me,” Amelia called out, her embarrassment taking a backseat to her desperation.
Gloria’s heart skipped a beat as she asked urgently, “Is something wrong with Landon?”
When she opened the door and saw Landon lying on top of Amelia on the floor, her eyes widened in shock. “Oh, Amy, what on earth are you…”
Amelia’s face turned crimson as she stammered, “Uh, I was… um, giving Landon a sponge bath, and we accidentally fell off the bed.” She avoided Gloria’s gaze and couldn’t admit they’d fallen while trying to get him back into bed.
Gloria wasn’t convinced. She wondered, ‘That bed’s huge, and how do they even fall off of it?’
Her eyes flicked over their awkward position, and her cheeks reddened as a thought occurred to her. ‘Oh, my! That’s too fierce. But honestly, what if they get hurt playing around like this?’
Sensing Gloria’s skepticism, Amelia quickly added, “It really was an accident. I promise it won’t happen again.” She looked so guilty that she resembled a kid caught sneaking candy.
Gloria chuckled and helped lift Landon back onto the bed. As they settled him down, he let out a muffled groan. Amelia, afraid she’d hurt him, used the excuse of adjusting the blanket to sneak her hand underneath and check him.
Landon had just begun to relax. When her cold and soft hand brushed over his lower back, he felt a tingling jolt through his body. It was oddly pleasant that he almost didn’t want her to stop.
“What are you doing?” he grumbled, his voice low.
Amelia pulled her hand back as quickly as she could, and she sighed inwardly, ‘No fractures, thank goodness. He should be fine.’
Gloria spoke up, breaking the tension, “Amy, Aaron’s here to take you to the office. You’d better get ready.”
“Got it.” Amelia shot one last sheepish glance at Landon before grabbing her things and heading out. Once in the car, she called Wesley to check on Landon’s waist.
Hearing her words, Aaron couldn’t help but ask, “Mrs. Kingsley, what happened to Mr. Kingsley’s waist?”
“He might’ve sprained it,” Amelia replied casually.
Aaron frowned, puzzled, ‘He can’t even move, so how did he sprain his waist?’
By the time Amelia arrived at the office, word of her bet with Henry had already spread. The shareholders were livid and stormed to the CEO’s office to wait for Amelia.
One of the shareholders barked, “Amelia, what the hell were you thinking? You’ve barely set foot in this company and don’t even know how things work, and you’re out here making bets? Are you trying to cause us trouble?”
“Just because you’re the CEO’s wife doesn’t mean you can call all the shots without consulting us,” someone else snapped.
“You’re just a nobody. Don’t you know your place? Marrying Mr. Kingsley doesn’t qualify you to run Kingsley Group,” another shareholder said.
The angry shareholders weren’t alone. Those senior executives who had dropped off documents the day before but received no responses joined in the complaints.
“If you’re not capable, step aside and let someone else take charge,” one of them sneered.
“Maybe Henry was right,” another said with a scoff. “She’s not here to work. She’s here to steal company information.”
Aaron, who had been standing quietly by, finally couldn’t take it anymore. His face darkened as he defended Amelia. “Ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. Kingsley is more than capable of leading this company to greater success.”
“Are you kidding?” one shareholder scoffed. “She didn’t even sign a single document yesterday.”