Page 120 of The Wife Situation

She tilts her head. “He made an offer Summer couldn’t refuse.”

I shake my head. “I bet he did.”

“But now that she and Beckett are expecting?—”

“What? I didn’t know. I bet she’s so happy.” Summer has always wanted a family. “Oh goodness, that means you’re going to be an aunt. Congrats!”

She smiles. “Thanks. I’m excited about it, but Kinsley has already claimed the favorite aunt title.”

It doesn’t surprise me. Kinsley—Remi’s older sister—is best friends with Summer.

She stops typing and her smile falters. “There are other things that have been going on though. Recently, I’ve noticed a lot of outsiders visiting.”

“It’s my fault,” I whisper.

“I know. They offered me a hundred bucks to talk about you. I told them to get fucked though. So did Kinsley. Pretty much everyone has.”

“Beau didn’t,” I admit.

Her eyes narrow. “What the fuck?”

Before I can say anything else, Easton and Brody join us.

I turn to him. “Here are our keys.”

“Which goes to the suite?” Easton asks.

Remi sorts through them and holds the key up. “This one.”

“And which room is farthest away from that one?” He meets her eyes and takes it.

She offers it to him, and Easton hands it to Brody, who places it in his pocket.

“Thank you. We don’t need any others.”

Remi chuckles. “I already like you.”

This makes me beam. If Easton is Remi-approved, this will be easy.

In a way, she’s a lot like Easton—introverted, very private, intelligent, and zero bullshit.

“And do we contact you if we need anything else?”

“I’ll be here during the night shift today, tomorrow, and Friday. Summer will arrive in the morning around seven, and breakfast will be served at eight. She loves to make pancakes. Just eat them, okay? She’s pregnant, and she’ll cry at the drop of a hat if you refuse.”

“I don’t like pancakes,” Easton states, and I elbow him in the stomach. “I’ll learn to love them. Thank you, Remi.” Then, he turns to me. “Ready to go to our room, darling?”

“Yes,” I say and grab his hand.

“Thank you,” I whisper to her over my shoulder.

She gives me a thumbs-up as we make our way to the narrow staircase, and he goes first.

The house is over a hundred years old, and some stairs squeak as we take them. Easton glances at me over his shoulder and grins. It’s then I wish I could draw this moment.

As soon as we’re on the top floor, he leads us to the room at the end of the hallway and unlocks the door. Easton steps inside and pulls me with him. Within one step, my back presses against the cool wood as he stands close.

One of his palms rests flat against the door, and his other lifts my chin, and I meet his eyes.

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