Page 128 of The Wife Situation

“Yeah. I was thinking about my dad. He’d have loved this car. Though I think he would’ve wanted to drive it.”

“I’d have let him.”

The thought warms my heart, considering I know how protective he is of his vehicles. Easton’s eyes scan over the mountains. They’re not as big and impressive as Grand Teton, but they are still beautiful. I steal glances as he removes his jacket and tosses it in the back seat.

“That should be illegal.”

“Hmm?”

“You, dressed like that. No wonder you have a fan club.”

He shakes his head.

“To think, until two weeks ago, I didn’t know or care whoEaston Callowaywas.”

“And now?”

I lick my lips. “I kinda don’t want to share you with the world anymore.”

He gives me a sly grin. “Relatable.”

When we roll into town, people stare.

I park at the grocery store and glance at him. “You coming?”

“Sure,” he tells me, and we get out. “What do you need?”

“It’s not whatIneed; it’s whatweneed,” I whisper, walking to the pharmacy section in the back. I stand in front of the limited choices of condoms with my arms crossed. “What size?”

Easton’s glasses cover his eyes, but I notice the ghost of a smile on his lips.

This amuses him.

“What would you guess?” He stands confidently.

I grab the extra-large ones, ribbed forherpleasure.

“Megapack,” I say. “Think we can blow through thirty?”

“In a night?” he quips with a half grin.

We walk to the front. His hand rests on my hip as we wait at the end of the line.

“Self-checkout isn’t an option?” he whispers.

“No one would be in your business if it were,” I tell him over my shoulder as I set the box on the conveyor belt.

“Well, hello, Alexis,” Mrs. Ballard, the clerk, says. Then, she glances down at the massive box of condoms and scans them. Her brows lift. “This all?”

“Oh, one more thing,” I say, grabbing a few candy bars. “In case I get hungry.”

When she gives the total, Easton steps forward, sliding his card. He gives her a smile and a nod, and I think I see her have heart palpitations. As I look around the small space, I realizealleyes are on us. We are center stage right now.

“We don’t need a bag,” I say, and she hands me my goods and the receipt.

“Have aniceday,” she offers.

“Thanks. I think I might,” I tell her with a wink, tossing the box in the air as Easton follows me to the car.

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