Page 50 of The Wife Situation

“Great.Now, about tonight … can we show up thirty minutes after it begins?” I ask, following him through the rest of the second floor, knowing if I looked up the wordpunctualin the dictionary, I’d see a picture of his nerdy but sexy ass.

“I’m never late,” he restates, opening the door to his home office that overlooks the park.

I remember, and I’ll never forget the conversations we’ve had.

I can tell the idea makes him sweat, almost as if it’s too much. Maybe it is.

As I glance around the gigantic space, it’s easy to imagine him sitting behind that desk, staring outside as he works. His desk faces the view, not the door.

“You always arriving early is the reason we should be late.Everyonewill notice us entering after they assumed you weren’t attending. It would be out of character for you, but so is getting married. That’s the point. If you want to properly fool them into believing you’ve found thelove of your life, do it right. Don’t be cheap.”

He studies me, contemplates it, and calculates the outcome. I can literally see the cogs spinning behind his gorgeous eyes.

“Okay. Fine. We’ll do it your way. However, I’ll warn you … when you ask for attention in the public eye, you always receive it, especially when attached to me.”

“Babe, I was made under pressure.”

“Just like a diamond,” he says with a smirk, leading me to the second flight of stairs that leads to the third floor.

I move in front of him and climb them. After I push open the door, a hushed gasp releases from my lips.

“So, this is where the magic happens,” I say, studying his gigantic four-poster bed with the fluffy comforter on top. It looks comfortable, like I’d float away in it because it’s made of literal clouds.

“No one sleeps in here but me.”

The silence draws on.

“Ever?”

“You’re the only woman who’s visited the diamond in the sky.Ever.”

My heart rate increases, but I don’t dare meet his gaze, so I turn my attention to the three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the city. This room’s vantage point is better than the balcony overlook, especially in the late afternoon.

I walk the perimeter of the space, taking it all in. “People dream about this.”

“They do,” he says.

When I turn to face him, his focus is on me. I enjoy how he looks at me, like he’s trying to solve an equation he can’t figure out. At least I’ll keep him on his toes.

This would be much easier for me if he didn’t have that perfect scruff on his chiseled jaw or a tattooed body that looks like it’s chiseled from stone. It would almost be easy to fall in love with this man. Thankfully, he’s incapable, and I’m unwilling. We’re the perfect combination of fucked up. He can’t, and I won’t.

He breaks eye contact and walks to his closet that’s the size of Carlee’s apartment. A minute later, he returns with a black suit and tie in one hand and a garment bag in the other. “This is for you.”

“How do you know my size?” I ask, taking it from him.

He places his clothes on the bed, then shrugs his rider jacket off. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that hugs him in all the right places and motorcycle pants that squeeze against his quads. It’s impossible not to stare.

“I wish I could say I guessed, but I asked your roommate,” he admits. “I handpicked it though.”

“Hopefully, you’re not dressing me like a hooker.” I suck in a breath. “Wait.You spoke to Carlee?” I think my voice goes up an entire octave.

“Iconvenientlyran into her this morning and had her sign an NDA before I asked her several questions about you, actually,” he says nonchalantly.

This is why she was acting so strange earlier. She’d just spoken tohim.

“You’reridiculous.”

“I think you meant to saycunning. I wanted to surprise you. I think I accomplished that.” He’s close enough to me that I can smell his sweat, mixed with cologne. It’s all man, all Easton, entirely intoxicating.

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