Page 66 of The Wife Situation

“Now I need to think about what book I want you to read,” I mutter. “Maybe an alien romance.”

He glares at me. “That would be a first, but I’ll keep my word. Also, I have a contract prepared.”

“Of course you do.” The whiskey courses through my body. “But I’m not reading it.”

“You will,” he says.

“Can you give me the TL;DR version? Because I wouldn’t be surprised if it was five hundred pages long.”

“It’s three hundred, to be exact.”

“I only read smut,” I tell him, grinning.

Easton gets up and returns with a manifesto and a black ink pen.

I set the stack of papers on my lap, flipping through it. “You killed an entire tree for this.”

“I’d suggest you read it to understand the expectations.”

“What price did you decide on?” I ask. “Probably should’ve negotiated that before the coin flip.”

He grins. “What you requested.”

“Twelve million,” I whisper, then laugh. “Unreal.”

“But I’d have paid double,” he mutters. “A steal.”

“Asshole.” I shake my head and he chuckles.

Without reading a word, I flip to the back page and sign it. I know how to be the perfect wife and will follow my end of the bargain. After a year, we’ll say our goodbyes, and I’ll have enough money to do whatever I want.

“You have no idea what you agreed to. And now, you’re contractually obligated.” He sounds displeased.

“Sometimes, the risk is worth the reward.”

Easton shakes his head at me like a parent. I smirk, close my eyes, and enjoy the wind against my skin. I hope this is the right decision. It feels like it is.

“I hope, at the end of this, we can be friends,” I tell him.

“I want that,” he says.

“Maybe best friends,” I say. “A year is a lot of time together.”

“Who knows what will happen?” he says. “But I can guarantee Carlee won’t like being replaced.”

“She’d track you down and kick your ass,” I tell him and he chuckles.

The amber lights reflect on top of the water in ripples and a playful smirk graces his lips as his arm rests on the back of the couch. I scoot closer to him, leaning against the curve of his body, and I don’t move until he relaxes against me.

“You smell good,” I whisper.

“You do too,” he says.

“I’m gonna have a good time getting to know you, Easton.”

“I look forward to it,” he says, glancing down at me. “What time will you be moving in tomorrow? Also, we have to get married within the next thirty-seven days.”

“What?” I turn toward him.

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