Page 48 of Tangled Vows

“Where are we going to put everybody?” she asked, and I reigned in those naughty thoughts.

“What do you mean where—” I began, but then it dawned on me. She’d taken over the guest bedroom when she’d moved in. All her stuff was in there. Max had his own room, and the third bedroom was finally finished, but I couldn’t expect my sister and grandpa to share it. Plus, it would look suspicious if my wife was sleeping in the guest room and not my bed.

“Shit,” I cursed under my breath.

“Shit is right,” she confirmed, wide eyed.

“How quickly can you get your things out of the guest room and move them to mine?”

She stared at me with a look of horror, her mouth agape.

“I’m not moving into your room,” she declared, crossing her arms over her chest. All that did was draw my attention to where her robe had come open revealing the swells of her breasts. I’d never wanted to taste something so bad as when I saw those perky nipples poking through the silky material of her sleep top. She clearly wasn’t wearing a bra, and her body’s reaction belied her arousal. We needed to revisit that later. For now, I had to convince her that sleeping in my bed was our best course of action.

“Well then, what do you propose we do?” I asked, mirroring her stance.

“I-I don’t know, but I’m not staying in your room,” she said, but her resolve wavered, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t.”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have a choice. My grandpa thinks this is real. Do you really want to be responsible for breaking an old man’s heart?” She glared at me, but she knew I was right.

“Fine,” she huffed and uncrossed her arms, planting her hands on her hips. “You keep them occupied, and I’ll clear out my stuff. There are a few boxes I haven’t unpacked in the closet, but we can say I’m just storing them up there. I’ll change the sheets and straighten up the bathroom so there won’t be any signs I’ve been living up there.”

“Good girl,” I said, and she inhaled sharply, her pupils dilating. Then she narrowed that piercing gaze on me and gritted her teeth.

“I’ll make everyone breakfast,” I offered, smiling like a loon. I just realized my wife might have a praise kink. I wanted to explore that further, but this wasn’t the time. “That should give you enough time to get everything done.”

“You’re going to make breakfast?” she asked skeptically.

“Have you no faith in your husband?” Her eyes fell closed, and she shuddered. Hmm, maybe calling myself her husbandwas the key to winning her over. “I’ve been practicing, and I’ve learned a lot from you.” The skepticism fell from her expression, and she nodded.

“Okay, I’ll get started.”

I followed her out of the pantry and watched her retreating form as she excused herself to get ready for work. Roni’s scrutinizing gaze landed on me, and she tilted her head to the side, studying me. I mouthed “later,” and she nodded. Aside from Shayla’s closest friends, she was the only person who knew what was really going on between Shayla and me. Hell, I wasn’t sureIeven knew what was really going on between us. Maybe my sister could enlighten me.

36

SHAYLA

My pulse raced as I rushed around my room and gathered all my belongings. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot to move into Easton’s room. Everything I needed to take downstairs fit into a couple laundry baskets. It was apparent I never planned on staying forever when I saw all the items I’d actually bothered to put away piled atop the bed. It was laughable how little I’d unpacked. Everything else was stowed in the closet or the garage.

I dusted off the dresser and spritzed the room with some fabric spray to freshen up the space. Luckily I ran the vacuum yesterday so the floors were in pretty good shape. With clean sheets in place, I made the bed, situating the pillows neatly to give it a welcoming look. When all was said and done, you couldn’t tell I’d been living up here the past several weeks.

With my bag slung over my shoulder and my arms loaded down, I crept downstairs, careful to stay out of sight. Voices floated from the kitchen as Easton caught up with his family. I hated lying to them, but I was getting used to the guilt. The ends were definitely worth the means. I’d already paid off Mom’s existing medical bills and had a nice little nest egg forwhen the new ones rolled in. Easton’s reputation was on the mend. Hockey fans loved seeing him settle down, and aside from the miserable assholes who liked to comment on my body and speculate that I was pregnant, most people were supportive of our union. He'd just signed a lucrative endorsement and had more offers from major brands on the table. We were both getting what we wanted. All the lies and deception were worth it. They had to be.

Once my things were put away, I finally allowed myself to take in the space I would now be sharing with Easton. It was modern and masculine with clean lines and dark wood. It smelled vaguely of cedar and sandalwood, a combination I associated with my husband. It was heady and intoxicating. I wasn’t sure how I’d survive being surrounded by his scent all the time. It would drive me wild.

I checked the time and realized I needed to leave for work soon. With the unexpected turn of events this morning, I didn’t have time to work out. All I would be able to manage was a quick shower and minimal makeup. I could twist my hair into a chignon and still look professional without fussing over it too much.

I hopped into Easton’s shower and instantly realized my mistake. His scent enveloped me like a hug, clinging to every inch of my skin. My imagination ran wild as I pictured him in here, naked and lathering his decadent smelling body wash over his sculpted muscles and down to his throbbing?—

Nope. No, no, no. Not going there. I couldn’t think about my fake husband like that. If I did, I would need to take care of the ache growing more insistent between my legs, and I didnothave time for that.

I sped through the rest of my routine and rushed downstairs. Easton and his family were still gathered around the kitchen island, the remnants of their breakfast spread in front of them.

“Hey, I’m sorry I have to rush off. I have to head into work,” I said regretfully as I grabbed a yogurt from the fridge.

“It’s okay. We understand,” Roni replied.

“I already have breakfast ready for you, and I made it to go,” Easton said, plucking the yogurt from my hands and placing it back on the shelf. Reaching behind me, he grabbed a plastic container from the counter and handed it to me. It contained homemade quiche cups, my favorite. I lifted my appreciative gaze to his soft hazel eyes that crinkled at the corners with his megawatt smile.

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