Chapter 15

Easton shrugs off his suit jacket and sets it on a coat hook on the wall. My eyes glide down his body as he rolls up his sleeves, revealing those delicious tattoos. I’m staring, and when he notices, those beautiful lips tilt upward. I don’t glance away, regardless of how intense it is to be in his presence sometimes. This man is the king of intimidation, and I understand why people say what they do about him, even if I don’t believe most of it.

I reach for the bottle, needing another drink.

“Did I pass your test?” he questions.

“Was that a date? Because they usually end with an attempted kiss.” I smirk, meeting his blue eyes.

“Really?” he mutters, stepping forward. His fingertips trail up my shoulder, causing goosebumps to form, before his fingers gently thread through my windblown hair.

I search his eyes, not sure what I’ll find. Easton leans down until his mouth is dangerously close to mine.

My lips part in anticipation of tasting him. The temptation has me in a choke hold as we’re suspended in time, neither of us making the next move. But my eyes flutter closed as need and want and deeply rooted desire take over. I feel as if I’m holding my breath, desperately waiting for him to kiss me, knowing no one else I’ve dated has made it this far. No, just him.

Easton whispers across my mouth, “Consider this an attempt, Alexis.”

The overwhelming need to move forward half an inch nearly takes control, but I don’t. It’s sweet, agonizing torture, and when I think I might be able to feel his lips against mine again, he pulls away.

I swallow hard, wishing my body weren’t on fire, feeling the deep ache between my thighs.

Easton Calloway will destroy me. I know this to be true.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” I finally ask, my heart still thumping, the butterflies fluttering as the rejection onsets.

“Because I can’t,” he admits.

It’s a power move.

The control this man exudes is impressive.

My brows furrow and he notices my frustration.

He releases a breath, his jaw clenching as he tucks hair behind my ear. It’s gentle. “You’re emotionally unavailable, and after tonight, this isn’t a game to me.”

“Okay,” I whisper, knowing he’s right. He’s always right.

Easton gives me a sweet smile; his gaze lingers a few seconds longer. “I want to take you somewhere.”

I nod, needing and wanting the distraction to pull me away from the realization that I wanted him to kiss me.

“I’ll be right back.” He turns and climbs the stairs.

Being alone gives me time to think. I drink more whiskey, my cheeks tingling with each sip. However, I’m not sure if it’s the booze or Easton’s lingering touch.

The boat glides forward as I give myself a tour of the bottom floor. A long, leather couch fills a wall, and all the light fixtures look as if they’re coated in gold.

I follow a hallway to the other side and find a mini library. I scan all of the books on the shelves. There are some about sailing and boating, several thrillers, and business books. At the end are the sleeping quarters, with lamps hanging over the bed. It’s easy to imagine him in here, reading by the soft light, hiding on the waterfront, away from it all. A bathroom connects to his bedroom, and I’m actually surprised by how large it is—it has an actual tub.

I pass a kitchen that’s larger than the one in Carlee’s apartment and a dining room area too. It would be easy to live here, comfortable even.

Once I’m back in the living area, which also has a minibar, I grab the bottle of whiskey and step outside for some fresh air. I walk the perimeter of the deck as the boat soars across glassy, smooth water. At the front of the boat, there’s a leather couch, and I sit, looking out at the moon casting reflections on the water’s surface.

I close my eyes, leaning my head against the cushion as I replay tonight. I had a great time. The pendant still hangs around my neck as I sit on a yacht in a $12,000 dress. All of this is unbelievable, and I’m waiting for the bottom to fall from the paper bag. It will, won’t it?

It always does.

The engines stop, and we slow to a halt. I open my eyes to see the glittering skyline shining bright in front of me. I sit up straighter, taking it in, never once seeing it from this vantage point. I’ve experienced the city so differently since I met Easton.

The door opens and closes, and I focus on the view as he joins me, leaving plenty of space between us.

“This is beautiful,” I admit, taking a drink and handing him the bottle, but he declines.

“So, now that my friends are fully on board, what have you decided? Are we moving forward?”

I turn to him. “I think we should flip a coin to determine the outcome.”

“Ah, so not only are you reckless and sign documents without reading them, but you also aren’t afraid to gamble away life-changing decisions.” He shakes his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Do you have any pocket change?”

“No.” He gives me a look, tilting his head. “I might have something, but if I don’t, then what?”

“We’ll play Rock, Paper, Scissors.”

A roar of laughter escapes him. “You’re unbelievable. But I’ll go with it.”

Easton walks inside, and five minutes later, he returns. He drops a golden coin into my hand. There’s an eagle on one side and a woman on the other. I’ve never seen anything like it.

“What is this?”

“It’s a Saint-Gaudens gold coin. It belonged to my grandfather. It’s named after its designer, the sculptor Augustus Saint-Gaudens. It’s often considered to be one of the most beautiful coins in the history of the United States.”

I hand it back to him. “Nope, I’m not flipping that into the water. This is all on you. I can’t be responsible for that.”

He chuckles. “You call it.”

“I’m choosing the woman. If it lands on her, it’s a yes.”

With a flick of his wrist, the golden coin flips and twirls in the air. Easton catches it and holds it in his palm before flipping it onto the back of his hand. He scoots closer to me, close enough that his arm brushes against mine.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

I wait with bated breath as he removes his hand, revealing the side I chose. I think I hear him sigh in relief.

“It’s a done deal,” I say.

I love seeing him on edge over this. I’d have moved forward regardless of what that damn coin showed, but I won’t tell him that.

A smile plays on Easton’s lips, and it almost feels like this is meant to be.

The two of us fall into silence, both zeroed in on the skyscape.

“Now I need to think about what book I want you to read,” I mutter. “Maybe an alien romance.”

He glares at me. “That would be a first, but I’ll keep my word. Also, I have a contract prepared.”

“Of course you do.” The whiskey courses through my body. “But I’m not reading it.”

“You will,” he says.

“Can you give me the TL;DR version? Because I wouldn’t be surprised if it was five hundred pages long.”

“It’s three hundred, to be exact.”

“I only read smut,” I tell him, grinning.

Easton gets up and returns with a manifesto and a black ink pen.

I set the stack of papers on my lap, flipping through it. “You killed an entire tree for this.”

“I’d suggest you read it to understand the expectations.”

“What price did you decide on?” I ask. “Probably should’ve negotiated that before the coin flip.”

He grins. “What you requested.”

“Twelve million,” I whisper, then laugh. “Unreal.”

“But I’d have paid double,” he mutters. “A steal.”

“Asshole.” I shake my head and he chuckles.

Without reading a word, I flip to the back page and sign it. I know how to be the perfect wife and will follow my end of the bargain. After a year, we’ll say our goodbyes, and I’ll have enough money to do whatever I want.

“You have no idea what you agreed to. And now, you’re contractually obligated.” He sounds displeased.

“Sometimes, the risk is worth the reward.”

Easton shakes his head at me like a parent. I smirk, close my eyes, and enjoy the wind against my skin. I hope this is the right decision. It feels like it is.

“I hope, at the end of this, we can be friends,” I tell him.

“I want that,” he says.

“Maybe best friends,” I say. “A year is a lot of time together.”

“Who knows what will happen?” he says. “But I can guarantee Carlee won’t like being replaced.”

“She’d track you down and kick your ass,” I tell him and he chuckles.

The amber lights reflect on top of the water in ripples and a playful smirk graces his lips as his arm rests on the back of the couch. I scoot closer to him, leaning against the curve of his body, and I don’t move until he relaxes against me.

“You smell good,” I whisper.

“You do too,” he says.

“I’m gonna have a good time getting to know you, Easton.”

“I look forward to it,” he says, glancing down at me. “What time will you be moving in tomorrow? Also, we have to get married within the next thirty-seven days.”

“What?” I turn toward him.

“You really should’ve read the contract, darling,” he quips.

I’m second-guessing myself for not doing so. “Was sex mentioned?”

“Your body isn’t up for negotiation, Alexis, just your time.” His words are dominant in all the right ways.

The silence takes over.

“I don’t want a shitty courthouse wedding,” I say. “I’d like it to be somewhat special, even if it’s not legitimate.”

His lip quirks up. “Whatever you want, darling. We’ll make it an adventure.”

Excitement soars through me. “And we’ll write our vows.”

He gives me all of his attention. “With truths.”

“With truths,” I repeat back to him.

His phone vibrates and he pulls it from his pocket, glancing at the screen. “I have to take this.”

I nod before I’m left to myself again, but he’s not gone for quite as long as before.

When he returns, his hair is a mess, like he ran his fingers through it a few times, and he looks tired. I can’t imagine the pressure he’s under with this. His family, the business, the public, and then I’m mixed in somehow. It’s a lot. All I have to do is look pretty as he deals with the consequences of our actions.

“We should probably go,” he says, his voice gruff.

“Sure.” I grab the booze and follow him inside and up the stairs, where the steering wheel is.

As he navigates us back to the marina, I sit beside him, lost in my thoughts.

Sometimes, when I’m with him, neither of us says anything. We don’t need to because the silence isn’t always awkward. Words don’t always have to fill the space. If being with him has taught me anything thus far, it’s that.

After killing the engine, he turns off the lights and locks everything. Before we leave the cabin, Easton stops me.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice smooth like chocolate. “I know you’re stopping your life for this.”

“For you,” I correct, searching his eyes. “You have a good heart, Easton. That means something.”

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a hug. I hold him for a few seconds before we break apart. With his hand on my shoulder, he guides me outside.

As soon as he steps foot on his private pier, he holds his hand out for me. I grab it, but my heel gets stuck in a crevice in the wood and I fall toward him, crashing into his body.

“You’ve got a knack for that,” he whispers, catching me.

We’re standing too close.

“I know. And you keep saving me,” I say, noticing how he’s looking at me.

My world shifts—or maybe that’s the alcohol taking over.

Our fingers interlock as we walk back to the Charger. Holding his hand comes naturally.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks as he opens my door.

“What the internet will say tomorrow.”

My door closes and I lean my head against the seat as he joins me.

“I can predict what they’ll say. Our story will be the love story of the decade.”

I chuckle. “The irony.”

Easton drives across the city, and thirty minutes later, he’s slowing in front of my apartment. I glance up at Carlee’s room, noticing the colorful shadows from the TV dancing against the wall. She’s still awake.

He parks and kills the engine.

I turn to him. “When I left Texas, I told myself I’d take more risks and try to live instead of coasting through life and wasting time. For years, when I was teaching high school kids, I wasn’t living. There was no adventure. I was a shell of a person who’d talked herself into believing fairy tales were possible with a man who was never capable of loving me. I don’t believe in fate or any of that, but something is going on beyond me or you. This feels right, doesn’t it?”

Easton is patient; he listens and doesn’t interrupt me as I find my words. “Yes, I can’t deny that either.”

I glance up at Carlee’s room again and see the curtain move. I shake my head, knowing she’s probably spying. Hell, I’d do the same thing.

“You have to promise me something.”

“Anything.” His voice is gravelly and low, and as he studies me, my body buzzes under his gaze.

“Promise that we’ll get to know one other sooner rather than later. I don’t want to be strangers.”

The street light illuminates his sculpted face and I watch his mouth turn upward.

“I’d like that.”