Page 130 of The Wife Situation

I nod. “Actually, yes. I want to browse the romance books.”

“Lead the way,” he says, following me across the store, carrying all three sex books in his hands.

When I was younger, I’d save my allowance to buy books I probably shouldn’t have read. I always found Kinsley in here too.

Easton gives me space, watching me as my eyes scan the bright-colored covers that draw attention. I pull a few from the shelves, read each back cover, and slide them back in place.

Easton pulls the ones I picked up and adds them to the stack in his arms. “Any others?”

“What if I wanted them all?” I say, my hand running from the top of the shelf to the bottom.

“Done,” he says.

“No, no, I’m kidding, Easton. You’ll never see me again if you buy these books. Seriously.”

I pluck a few others and add them to the growing stack he’s holding in his arms. “Anything you want?”

“Just you,” he mutters.

“You’ve got me,” I tell him.

“For one year,” he whispers.

When our eyes meet, I can almost imagine the life we could share. I try to push the thoughts away, but they take hold, digging roots deep into my soul. My dad always told me when I found the man I was supposed to be with, I’d know. I thought that man was Beau. But as I look at Easton, the feeling is different. It’s intense, beautiful, dangerous, overwhelming … and I want to be irrational with him.

I swallow down the lump in my throat and take a mental snapshot of him like that—tattoos on display, holding a stack of sex and romance books. I understand why so many have turned him into a thirst trap. It’s too easy.

I smile, hoping I never forget this image of him, exactly like this, with the sunlight shining through the store’s front windows, his eyes softly watching me.

“What?” he asks.

“About the year thing? That’s still to be determined.”

He reaches forward and places the back of his hand on my head. “No fever. Sure you’re not sick?”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll take it back then.”

He wraps his free arm around me. “We’ll see what happens.”

After Easton pays, we make it to the car. He carries my bag of books with one hand and slides his other in the pocket of my jeans, holding me against him. I can’t help but glance at him.

“The eye-fucking,Alexis,” he says, but it comes out like a low growl.

He’s the master at keeping his head on straight. But I can see behind his glasses that he’s side-eyeing me.

I burst into laughter, tucking my hand into his back pocket. “For show.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters, smirking, pressing his fingertips into my ass, and those butterflies tingle. “I know better now.”

I can’t hold back my smile as we walk the few blocks to the car.

Easton sets the books in the back seat and opens the passenger door for me. “I’m driving now.”

I hand him the keys with a laugh and get inside. “Only because I want you to have the experience.”

He grabs my hand and places a kiss on the knuckles. “I’m in charge here.”

“That’s what you think.” I give him a wink and grab the door handle, closing it.

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