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“It’s a little bit of a drive.”

“Well, we have time,” I remind him.

“All right then, it’s a plan.”

I use the drive to get acquainted with the person who’s probably closest to the man I haven’t been able to chase from my thoughts since the day we met. Long minutes into our drive, our polite chatter turns more personal in nature. So far, I’ve discovered Joel’s ex-Army and served four years before getting hired as Easton’s private driver and bodyguard.

“No wife or kids?”

“Not by choice. I’m ready for it, but I’m being patient. I haven’t found her yet. It will happen when it happens.”

“Do you think it’s the job?”

“No, I’ve had a few long-term relationships,” he shrugs, “they just didn’t work out. Mostly because the women I’m typically attracted to turn out to be bat shit.”

“Well, that’s dangerous.”

“Yeah, more so than this job.”

I run my fingers along the fabric of Easton’s jacket. “How will you know when you’ve found the right one?”

“When I miss her too much to go from one day to the next without her, only then will I consider putting the job last.”

“Not a bad way to gauge it,” I agree, glancing out the window at the trees blurring past us on either side of the road. Briefly, I wonder how good the fare is for what seems like a drive to nowhere. It’s when Joel begins to slow as we approach a deserted, small, dilapidated-looking, one-story building that I turn to him with drawn brows.

“What’s this?”

“A pit stop.”

Confused, I scan for clues until I catch a glimpse of the tailgate of Easton’s truck parked at the side of the isolated building. My heart leaps into a fast rhythm when Joel parks just in front of the entrance.

“You tricked me,” I scold.

“Yeah, you lookreallyunhappy about it,” he replies with a grin I know mirrors my own. “Go on, I’ll be here waiting for you,” he urges as I look back toward the building when Easton appears at the door, knocking the wind out of me.

His eyes sweep me as I exit the SUV in his jacket and prance toward him with a grin. “Hey,” I say, nearing him.

Easton replies with a soft “Hey,” before shifting his gaze to the SUV and lifting his chin to Joel in thanks. I duck under Easton’s arm as he holds the door open and come to a dead stop.

“Where exactly are we?” I ask as the door slams closed behind us, shrouding us in darkness. The only light comes from a dimly lit hallway several feet in front of us. Eyes adjusting to the lack of light, I make out a seating area full of worn leather couches on our left and a small kitchenette to the right.

Easton stands just behind me, his chest brushing my back. I sense some slight tension rolling through him as he speaks. “I wanted to show you something before you go.”

“Okay,” I acquiesce as he takes my hand, a balm to last night’s rushed goodbye.

Even though I know he withdrew for both our sakes, I can’t deny it was painful in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Butterflies swarm me as he gently nudges me forward to give him space before he takes the lead, guiding me down a short hallway. A single door is closed to our left before he stops at another closed door on the right. Opening it, he ushers me in, and I glance around.

“Oh,” I say, taking in our surroundings. Straight ahead is a large soundboard with two comfortable-looking chairs edging it.

A long, newer-looking leather couch takes up a good amount of the wall immediately to my right. Next to it is a glass door leading into a sound booth which sits opposite the board. The booth is so small, it’s got barely enough space to fit the instruments it currently houses. Though it seems equipped, it’s severely outdated. Even with all the necessities, the room looks to be something straight out of the ’70s era, the surrounding walls made up of paneled wood. I turn to Easton, confused.

“Thisis your studio?”

He chuckles at my obvious surprise. “Not impressed?”

“It looks like a ’70s porno set and smells like mothballs. Seriously, Easton, whyhere?”

“I’m here mostly because of this soundboard, and I told you, I earned every single dime to record myself. This is the only place I could afford.”

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