Page 88 of The Wife Situation

His arm brushes against me as he checks his watch. He closes his eyes again and leans his head back.

His lips turn up into a small smile. “Lexi, I canfeelyou staring.”

I can’t deny it. I focus my attention forward. It’s nothing but a two-lane highway and headlights guiding the way. We’re the only vehicle on the road.

Eventually, the car stops and Easton’s door opens. He walks to my side and holds out his hand. I take it as I admire the log cabinmansion.

“Uh …”

He smirks. “Come on.”

The driver follows behind us with our luggage, and Easton punches the code on the front door. It opens and he leads me inside.

A wooden chandelier with lights that flicker like candles hangs from the high ceiling, and I notice the gigantic vase of white roses under it on a center table. The door clicks closed and he stands beside me, crossing his arms over his chest.

“This is one of my favorite places to be,” he admits. “I can’t wait for you to see the view in the morning over coffee.”

He leads me into the living room, and an entire wall is windows. A stone fireplace starts at the floor and goes to the ceiling. I spot the bookshelf across the room. Behind me is a staircase that spirals to the top floor. It drips elegance and sophistication but still feels like home in a warm way.

“And where will I sleep tonight?”

“There are five bedrooms, and they’ve all been prepared for our arrival. It’s your choice.”

“How long are we staying?”

“Until Thursday, unless you’d like to stay longer,” he says.

He’s dressed in black from head to toe, staring at me like the devil he is.

“I can do basic math, Easton. We’ll leave here on day fourteen.”

“And your point?”

“What if, on dayfifteen, you realize this was a mistake?”

He narrows his eyes. “And what if, on day fifteen, I realize I want more than a year?”

“See, when you say things like that …” I nervously laugh.

He shrugs. “I can’t predict the future. Can you?”

“Well, no.”

“You’re dreading something that might not even happen,” he says, leading me to the second floor. He gives me a quick tour of the house. “You can back out, but I need to know now.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” I confirm. “At this point, I’m continuing through with this out of spite. To confirm I’m anti-love.”

“And what if you bust your myth?”

I press my lips together. “I guess I will win either way. But right now, I’m not convinced it’s possible.”

I say those words, but do I mean them?

“To be truthful, I’m not either,” he tells me.

Easton lets me choose where I’d like to stay, so I take the suite at the end of the hallway. It’s at the opposite end of the house from his dark gray room, which looks like the living quarters of the vampire, Lestat. It even comes with a wooden carved bed and a Gothic chandelier.

Easton sets my suitcase beside the oak dresser and leans against the doorframe. “Do you need anything else?”

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