Page 6 of Easton’s Claim

She hadn’t anticipated him reacting like this. It was nice to know he cared so much and was going to miss her, though. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

He stared at her, and there was something in his eyes she couldn’t define. Regret? “Yeah, me too.”

God, her stomach was in knots. She didn’t want to spend what was likely going to be one of her last visits with him arguing. She reached for a cookie and held it up as a peace offering. “Want one? Still warm from the oven.”

“No thanks,” he said, his gaze lingering on hers, and for some reason it felt like he was rejecting her rather than the cookie. A sharp pain lanced her chest at the thought.

Keeping her expression neutral to hide the hurt, she set the cookie back on the rack and wiped her hands on the kitchen towel, hating this entire conversation. In hindsight she wished she’d just told him about her plans when she’d first applied for the job.

“How long do you think it’ll take to sell your place?” he asked after a minute.

She shrugged. “In this market, who knows. Could be a few weeks, could take a few months.”

“So, not long.”

“No, not long.” A wave of sadness hit her at the defeat in his tone. Couldn’t he see there was no other way?

As hard as the prospect of leaving everyone and everything familiar behind was, it was for the best. If she stayed she’d never move forward. Not the way she longed to, and this job was something she’d always dreamed of.

“I’ll hate like hell to lose you,” he said quietly.

His wording threw her. Lose her? She snorted in annoyance. “I’ll still stay in touch. It’s not like I’m gonna move away and then cut you guys out of my life, for crying out loud.”

“I wouldn’t let you anyway.”

“Well, don’t worry.” For her, this was about survival. And this new, unsettling attraction toward him was simply one more reason for her to go. He’d never change. His job was demanding and dangerous, requiring him to be gone a lot, for months at a time, and he lived for that adrenaline rush.

That wasn’t what she wanted. After the disaster with Greg she wanted stability, someone solid and committed to making and sharing a life with her. She wanted to know what real love felt like, and she wanted to have a family someday. She wasn’t going to find any of that here.

Exasperated, she sighed and shook her head. “I need to get my life together again.”

He scoffed. “Please, you’re the most together person I know.” He waved a hand to indicate the house. “Look at this place. Spotless. I bet I could eat off the floor if I felt like it. You’re the master of organization. You juggle everything going on in your life while rebuilding yourself after a shitty marriage, and you made starting a brand new career in real estate look easy. God, you even volunteer your time to teach yoga classes three days a week on top of everything else,” he added, pointing to her yoga bag sitting on a bench by the back door.

Her laugh held an ironic edge, because it was all so sad. Couldn’t he see how superficial all this was? “The house is staged, Easton. I made it look this way so I could sell it faster.”

Oh yeah, she was a certified expert at making her life and surroundings look good. At projecting an image to the world that said she had her shit together, when in reality she was scrambling to pull herself out of the pit of debt and depression her ex had left her in. She’d had to master that in a hurry.

She tossed the kitchen towel aside. “And you know what else? I hate yoga. I only teach it because I have to do something to keep from climbing the walls at night when I’m here all alone, and because I like to stuff my face with my baking, so I have to do some form of exercise if I want to fit into my clothes.”

His gaze slid over her from head to toe, making her go still inside. “Well whatever you’re doing, it’s working for you.”

Heat bloomed throughout her body and she chastised herself. Easton had always teased her like this.He doesn’t mean anything by it, idiot.

She cleared her throat and fought the warmth creeping into her cheeks. “Whatever.” Scowling at him, she bit into a cookie, barely tasting it as she chewed. God, the man drove her crazy, though she’d be damned if she let him know it.

He uncrossed his arms and set his palms on the countertop, making all the muscles in his arms stand out. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

She dragged her gaze to his face, belatedly realized the cookie was poised partway to her mouth. “What?”

“You know, dinner? The thing people eat at the end of the day?”

Why would he want to take her to dinner? He’d never asked her to dinner in the almost twenty years she’d known him. Did he feel sorry for her or something because she’d just admitted to being lonely? If that was the case, she’d feel even crappier.

“I can’t, I’m showing some clients a few properties,” she said.

“What about tomorrow?”

She had a showing scheduled for her house tomorrow evening, so that could work. “Why do you want to go to dinner with me all of a sudden?”

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