Page 119 of The Wife Situation

I turn to look at Easton, and he shrugs, glancing around.

It’s eerily quiet inside.

A few seconds later, Remi comes from the kitchen, carrying a plate of cookies, and her eyes widen. “Oh my goodness! What’re you doin’ here?”

“Surprise!” I say, and she hugs me tight. “Happy early birthday!”

She laughs and takes a step back, noticing Easton. Her eyes wander from his shoes to his suit pants; stark white button-up shirt, rolled to his elbows; over his tattoos; and up to his blue eyes and messy hair.

“Damn, you’reintimidating,” she says. “Wow.”

I snicker because it’s true, especially when he shows all the beautiful tattoos on his forearms.

“I’ve been told that on more than one occasion. I’m Easton Calloway. And you are?”

“Remington Valentine.” She holds out her hand to give him a shake, and he takes it. She continues, “But call me Remi. Anyone who uses my full name gets punched in the dick.” She gives him a sweet smile but holds up her fist.

“Noted. Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Remi.” He chuckles. “We’d like to check in, please.”

She shakes her head; her ponytail swooshes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a reservation in either of your names and we’re currently booked until Sunday.”

“It should be under Andrew Callo. It’s an alias I use when I travel,” he explains.

I turn to him. I didn’t know he used aliases.

“Wow, you’re the guy who rented the entire B & B through the weekend?” she continues.

Easton nods. “I like my privacy.”

Remi lifts a brow, impressed. She moves behind the desk and types on the laptop. “I’ve got a note about that right here. No one will bother you, guaranteed. I’ll pretend like you don’t exist.”

“That’s appreciated,” he states.

I’m brought back to being at the W and how everyone on the property knew not to disturb Mr. Calloway while he was there. Some things don’t change.

Easton’s cell rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket. He looks down at it before meeting my eyes. “I need to take this.”

“Sure,” I say, and he strolls to the sitting area and answers. His voice is low, so I can’t hear what he’s saying.

Remi leans across the desk, wearing a grin. “He’s the one you texted me about, isn’t he?”

“Yep. That’s him, in the flesh.”

I glance over my shoulder at all six foot two of him. He checks his watch and meets my eyes, as if I summoned his attention. A smile meets his lips, and he nods but continues his conversation. Electricity streams between us.

I’m doomed.

“You didn’t say he looked likethat.My God. I’m moving to New York.”

“I know,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I’m so screwed.”

“I can tell.” She waggles her brows at me as Brody enters through the front door. “Oh, who’s he?”

“Brody, the bodyguard,” I tell her, and she snickers.

She turns and grabs every key from a locked cabinet. “He rented all the rooms. Do you need all of these?”

“How did he pull it off?” I ask, looking down at ten physical keys on the counter.

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