Page 147 of The Wife Situation

“Youloveit,” I tell him, grabbing his hand and leading him down the stairs of the bed-and-breakfast so we can take the trail that leads to the barn.

When I look back at him, he lifts a brow. “No fucking lies detected.”

32

EASTON

Birthday countdown: 30 days

Since meeting her: 16 days

Company takeover: 37 days

We take the trail that leads from the house to the barn, so neither of us has to worry about driving. Lexi hooks her fingers with mine as we walk down the path.

“We should’ve pregamed,” she says.

“I only do that when I plan on fucking around and finding out,” I tell her with a smirk, and she laughs.

“Exactly,” she says.

I shake my head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Apparently, you’re gonna make me your wife,” she quips.

“Damn straight.”

“Sooner rather than later, okay?”

“I’d marry you tomorrow,” I admit, meaning every fucking word.

I think I hear her breath hitch.

“Soon, soon then.”

“Twenty-nine days. So, yeah.”

In the distance, the barn is lit bright and light leaks out from both sides. Chatter and laughter echo as we look up at the stars. Someone says something inaudible over a loudspeaker. Not long after, country music spills out into the pasture. Neither of us says a word as we move toward the party, but we don’t have to. There’s no other place I’d rather be right now.

“Ready?” she asks with a smile as I wrap my arm around her shoulders.

She fully interlocks her fingers with mine, and I’m so damn tempted to kiss her.

“As ever,” I say, and we walk in through the large entrance.

All heads turn in our direction. Lexi glances at me, leading us toward the birthday girl. Everyone returns to their red cups full of beer as country music blares through the sound system.

When we’re close, Lexi gives her a hug. “Happy birthday. I’m going to send you something when I get back to New York.”

“Don’t. You’re enough,” Remi says, nodding her head at me as I stand to the side.

My eyes wander around the room with all the smiling faces. Couples are dancing, friends are chatting, and everyone seems like they’re living life to the fullest.

Moments later, the lights are lowered and someone turns on a colored disco light to set the mood. It smells like leather and fresh hay. There’s a beer-pong table in the corner, and Lexi leads us over to it.

“We’re next,” she tells the table as the last ball sinks into the cup.

Beckett and Harrison give each other high fives.

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