Page 83 of The Wife Situation

“Well”—he takes his drink—“Frankie’s is one of my tests. I’ve broughteverywoman I’veeverdated here.”

I snort, glancing around, noticing the mousetrap in the corner. I’ve eaten at some sketchy-looking taco trucks, so I’m not concerned. However, this isn’t a date location for a Calloway. I don’t understand.

“Because the burgers are fab?”

“The burgers are good, but it’s mainly to watch how they react.”

My mouth falls open, then I burst into laughter. “That’s a dick move. I can imagine the entire scenario. She dresses in an expensive cocktail dress and Louboutins, expecting a Michelin-starred meal, but you take herhere.”

He shrugs, smirking. “I can’t be with someone who thinks they’re too good to eat with their hands at a friend’s restaurant, regardless of how it looks. I crave normalcy, Lexi. It’s not about extravagant shit. I don’t want to perform twenty-four/seven or have heads turn when I walk into a room. I want to eat a meal, maybe spill some ketchup on my shirt, and go home without fanfare.”

I search his face. “If you keep telling me your secrets, I’ll be able to make my next millions by writing a book calledHow to Snag Easton Calloway.”

“So damn glad you signed that NDA,” he says with a chuckle. “Guess you’ll have to keep it to yourself.”

“It’ll go with me to the grave.” And I mean that.

Easton needs someone who doesn’t mold herself to be his dream woman. He needs someone who justis.

“So, what would happen after you walked inside? Would you judge her on her burger order? She chooses pickles, and she’s out?”

He chuckles. “That’s a great idea. I fucking hate pickles. But the truth is, no one ever ordered, only me, and I’d sit here and eat a cheeseburger alone while they tried to make small talk. I’d say a few words, but was unamused and disappointed.”

My mouth slightly parts.

He nods. “We’d sit at this exact table on day fourteen.”

Our burgers and fries are slid in front of us.

“Wow, so this is the final test.”

“Yep. And everyone failed.” Easton grins. “Except you.”

“And that’s why I’m going to be your wife,” I say, meeting his eyes.

“You are,” he says, causing butterflies to haunt me.

We pick up our burgers at the same time.

“Cheers,” I tell him, moving mine forward, and we tap them together.

After one last glance, we take a bite simultaneously. Grease runs down our faces, and there’s mayo on his cheek. We laugh, reaching for napkins.

I swallow down my first bite. “Okay, you said they were good, but this is fucking amazing.”

“Right? The best I’ve ever had, but I like to downplay it in case you think it sucks,” he says, picking up a fry and putting it in his mouth. “Five out of five, and I’ve eaten a lot of cheeseburgers worldwide.”

“Humblebrag,” I say between bites. “But, yeah, same. My dad’s favorite meal was a cheeseburger with mustard and onions. I’d eat at questionable places with him over the years when we attended vintage car shows and auctions.”

His expression softens. “Do you miss your dad?”

“Yep. Every day. But you learn to live with it after a while. And sometimes, when I’m reminded that he’s not here anymore, it steals my breath. I tell myself he’s on a road trip around the US, driving in a hot rod with his hand hanging out the window, listening to old country music.” I smile and suck in a sharp breath. “At least it’s a nice thought because he was the world’s worst at answering his cell phone. So, in my mind, it’s almost believable.”

“I’m so sorry, Lexi.”

“Thanks.” I try to push the thoughts away. “Now, I only have to worry about my mom, but my two older brothers are around, helping her with the ranch. She dates random men, trying to find what she lost, but never commits.” I shake my head. “I think I just realized I’ve been acting like my mother. Wow.”

“Yikes,” he says, and I toss a fry at him, but he catches it and pops it into his mouth.

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