Chapter 33

Easton carries our luggage down the stairs. Brody and Weston wait for us at the bottom, playing on their phones.

“The delivery company picked up your car, it should be in New York tomorrow,” Weston says, glancing at the ring on my finger. “I take it you two had fun last night?”

I glance over at Easton, a blush hitting my cheeks. “Tons.”

I hear footsteps from behind me, and at the top of the stairs, I see Remi.

“Hi, what are you …”

She smiles and walks over to me. “I heard the news. And on my birthday. I’ll never forget the day. I’m so happy for you,” she says, and I show her the ring.

“It’s perfectly you, Lexi.”

“Thank you.” I can’t stop smiling.

It feels too good to be true. It is.

This whole thing is fake, I remind myself.

Easton tucks his hands into his pockets. He knows Remi knows me better than Carlee. Her words hold weight.

“You two are fire.”

He smiles at her.

“I played matchmaker,” Weston says. “Kinda made this whole thing happen.”

Brody rolls his eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

I turn my attention back to Remi. “Why are you working the day after your birthday?”

She holds back a smile. “I’m not.”

I glance over my shoulder, up the stairs, where she came from. “Are you alone?”

Weston laughs, and Remi turns to him. “Shut up.”

“Feisty little Texas girls,” Weston states, lifting his leather duffel over his shoulder.

Brody does the same and they make their way toward the door.

“Don’t be a stranger, either of you,” she says to Easton and me. “But that one can stay in New York.”

Weston laughs as he grabs the knob. “Oh, come on. I didn’t give you that hard of a time.”

“Worse than my brothers,” she says.

“Damn,” I quip. “That’s pretty bad.”

Easton chuckles. “We should leave if we’re going to make dinner tonight.”

Remi moves to him. He holds out his hand to give her a handshake, and she pulls him into a hug.

“I’m sure it’s known, but if you hurt my friend, I will chop off your balls.”

“Great,” he tells her. “Her other friend has my cock. So, you two can have a party.”

I snort. “It was Carlee,” I say.

Remi nods. “I knew I liked her.”

When I glance toward the front door, I see the SUV waiting in the driveway. “I’ll see you soon.”

She pulls me into another hug and whispers, “He’s mad about you.”

All I can do is smile as I pass Easton. When we step off the porch, our suitcases are taken from his hand, and we climb into the vehicle. Brody sits in the front, and Weston is in the back. We take the middle row.

A few minutes later, we’re heading down the long, twisty road that leads to town, and then we’re passing through it. I look out the window at the park in the middle of the town square and smile when we pass the library.

Easton grabs my hand, butterflies dance, and endless possibilities of us and the future fill my mind. Nothing about the way I feel is fake, and the sooner I’m willing to admit that, the better. However, I have my doubts that I could ever be enough for the man who can have anything he wants.

“My mother texted me this morning and I promised that we’d come back and visit soon.”

“I’d like that a lot,” he says with a wink.

Two hours later, we arrive at the private hangar, and outside, the jet waits for us with the stairs down. I must’ve fallen asleep, but I dreamed about nothing.

My door opens and Easton greets me with a smile. “Sleeping Beauty is awake.”

“Did I snore?” I whisper, feeling exhaustion creep in.

“A little,” he whispers with a smirk. “Tomorrow, we’ll sleep in, I promise.”

He follows behind me as we board. When we walk inside, we’re greeted by the same flight attendant who’s accompanied us on each trip.

“We’d like to be left alone for the duration, please.” Easton’s polite but also stern as he places his hand on the small of my back, leading me to the back area.

“Yes, sir,” she says.

As I turn to look over my shoulder, I see Weston and Brody board, but they take the executive seats toward the front of the plane.

Easton slides the door closed, and I realize we’re in a small room with a couch, television, and an executive chair and table.

“My private estate room,” he says. “For long flights.”

I take a step forward. “You’re telling me you have a bedroom on your plane, and you’ve not christened it?”

His eyes flutter closed as I kiss him. It’s slow and intentional.

“That ends today. But first, we buckle until we’re at a safe altitude.”

“And then?”

“Let your imagination wander.”

When the plane is soaring in the air, Easton unbuckles himself, then me. I turn to face him, our mouths desperate and hands needy.

“Did you wear this tiny fucking skirt for me?”

“Yes,” I admit, aching for this man so damn much that it hurts.

He lays me back and his hands graze over my hard nipples. He whispers, “We’ll have to be quiet.”

“I’ll try,” I say breathlessly.

I tuck my lips into my mouth when his hand gently slides between my thighs. I inch the material upward, showing him the black silk panties I wore.

He adds more pressure to my clit on top of the material. My eyes slam closed; the sensation of him is almost too much.

“Mmm. You’re already so wet for me,” he growls into my ear.

“I can’t help it,” I admit as he slides the material from my body, tucking it into his pocket. “A souvenir?”

“You fucking know it.”

My head is spinning.

Earlier, I was on a plane, biting my fist as I came, and now, I’m wearing a designer dress and Jimmy Choos, carrying a purse that fits nothing more than my phone. I was sent for a massage, a blowout, and makeup done by a celebrity artist. How is this my life?

Easton opens the door to the limo, and we’re parked in front of a contemporary Italian restaurant. It screams elegance, and a person obviously doesn’t enter without a reservation.

As soon as we step out of the car, the shutters of the cameras snap. I cover my face with my left hand. The beautiful ring Easton designed for me is on full display. I want the world to know this man is mine—even if it’s only for a year.

Easton wraps his arm around me, dressed in a black suit tailored for his muscular body. His red tie matches my dress. He leans in and whispers, “If you see a celebrity or someone you might recognize, pretend they don’t exist.”

“Easy,” I tell him. “My eyes will be locked on you all night.”

“Mmm,” he says with approval as two men in suits open the door for us.

As soon as Easton enters the dimly lit room, the woman at the door leads us into the dining area with crisp tablecloths and long, lit candles. I keep my eyes forward as Easton glides across the room like he owns the place.

He glances over at me and smiles, and I return the gesture. We’re led to a table where his family is sitting. Weston stands when he sees me, giving me a smile and a bow.

“Lexi,” he says, taking my hand and kissing it. “So lovely to see you again.”

I hold back a laugh because I saw him eight hours ago, when we landed.

Easton pulls out my chair, and once I’m settled, he sits beside me. His strong hand is on my thigh, and I enjoy the dominance of it.

A waiter immediately steps forward, filling our glasses with water and pouring a quarter of a glass of white wine.

“Hello all,” Easton says. “Thank you for joining me tonight.”

“You’re late,” his mother interrupts, giving me Meryl Streep vibes. But she’s gorgeous, with white-blonde hair.

Every person sitting at this table is beautiful. Easton and Weston are the perfect combination of their parents.

I glance at Easton and he smirks. “I got tied up,” he says.

The reality is, he bent me over the bed before we left the diamond in the sky. I had no idea we were late, and he didn’t mention it.

“Anyway, I’m thrilled to introduce you to Lexi Matthews, my fiancée, the love of my life,” he announces, then goes around the table, giving me introductions.

I smile and nod.

“This is my mother and her husband, Ralph.”

Weston snickers.

“Actually, I’m Scott,” he says.

Easton’s lips slightly part, but he quickly recovers. “Scott, yes. Apologies. This is my father, Frederick, and his wife, Katrina.”

“Hi,” I say.

“And, of course, you know Billie. And Weston.”

His sister leans forward and gives me a wink. “Great to see you again, Alexis ‘Lexi’ Matthews.”

“You too,” I tell her with a smile.

“And what day are we on?” she asks.

“Seventeen,” I whisper, glancing at Easton.

His mouth quirks upward, but he tries to keep his badass public persona in check. I know better though. The man is a softy—at least when it comes to me.

“I hope he gave you a trophy,” she whispers.

“He did,” I say, showing her the ring.

A grin spreads into a wide smile. “Grandmother’s diamond?”

The table grows quiet.

“Yes,” Easton says. “You all seem surprised.”

“I’m not,” Weston quips with a chuckle, sipping his wine. “You always said when you found the one, you’d propose with Grandmother’s stone. I expected it. Everyone else should have as well.”

I swallow hard, feeling blindsided by this revelation. “Easton.”

“Lexi.” He smiles at me, and my heart nearly bursts out of my chest.

It’s more than just a ring for him; it’s the ring. I’m not sure I can accept something so precious and meaningful; however, if he’s always said that, then he was forced to continue with the plan. Any cracks, and it could shatter.

The moment passes quickly, but we will discuss it.

We glance at the menus that are bound in soft leather. Everything is foreign to me—from the amount of silverware on the table to the names of dishes printed on the vellum paper.

“What are you having?” he asks as he leans in, and his eyes pierce through me.

“What you’re having,” I say with a nervous smile. I’m too in my head.

“Good choice.” He orders for us both.

As our wine is refilled, Billie talks about her fashion line and how far ahead they are on designs and production. She’s beautiful and elegant, and she has an air of don’t fuck with me that surrounds her. Actually, all of the Calloways do.

“So, Lexi,” his mother says. “Do you two plan on having children?”

It’s not a question that should make my anxiety spike, but it does. I place my hand on top of Easton’s, which hasn’t left my thigh since we sat.

“Maybe one day,” I explain. “Who knows what the future holds?”

“Well, I’d love grandchildren before my kids are given another brother or sister.”

His mother is ruthless.

“You sound like my mama,” I admit. “In the South, popping babies out right after a wedding is almost like a custom. But after meeting Connor and seeing how great Easton was with him …” I meet Easton’s gaze, and for a moment, it’s me and him, lost in one another. “He’ll make an incredible dad.”

She gives me the hint of a smile. It’s good enough for me.

“Well, you two can borrow him when you’d like. He’s a little terror and he drives his nanny wild. The kid is thirty months old, and I’ve already gone through three different people. The Calloway tantrums are awful,” Katrina says, sipping her wine. “Actually, he’s been screaming Lexi since he visited Easton. I suppose you’re the reason why.”

“Aww,” I say, but the smile that was on Easton’s mother’s face transforms into a scowl.

Billie snickers.

“And, Weston, how’s the divorce?” his mother asks.

“I’m having the best time, Mother. You know how that is. Marrying and divorcing, then doing it all over again,” he says with the utmost disrespect in his tone.

Easton sucks in a deep breath. “Don’t,” he tells Weston between gritted teeth.

I don’t feel bad about how dysfunctional my family was. Actually, the Calloways are pretty normal with all their inner drama.

His father speaks up. “I heard you’re into the theater, Lexi. Easton told me you act and sing.”

I smile. “I do. I graduated from NYU years ago. My dream was to perform on Broadway.”

“Easton’s invested in one of the theaters. I’m sure he could make some phone calls.”

“I’m sure he could, but I prefer to earn it and not have it handed to me. Lately, I’ve been thinking about writing a screenplay. A love story,” I say.

“You should,” his father says.

Billie nods, and Easton glances at me.

“Really?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” I admit. It’s not something I’ve shared with anyone other than Carlee, but it was originally a tragedy.

Another bottle of wine is being opened and poured, and Easton excuses himself.

“I’ll be right back,” he mutters into my ear.

I nod, bringing my attention back to his mom, who’s sitting directly across from me.

Billie asks a few questions, and I watch Easton cross the dark room. Before he turns down a hallway, he’s stopped by a woman in a black dress that hugs her slim body. He takes a step back, his hand touching her elbow as she smiles. The woman leans in and whispers something in his ear, her hand on his chest.

I suck in a ragged breath and Weston glances at me. I grab my glass of wine and take a gulp as he excuses himself.

“Where’s everyone going?” his mother asks, searching around.

I give her a smile and shrug, hating watching Easton with someone else. Weston interrupts the conversation, stealing the attention. Easton looks in my direction, then disappears down the hallway.

Five minutes later, Easton returns to me just as our first course is being served. I follow his lead, choosing the utensils he uses. And for the rest of the night, I float through the conversations as a well-rehearsed actress.

When it’s time to leave, we say our goodbyes with loose hugs and kisses on each cheek. The limo arrives, and we’re rushed outside, avoiding the cameras as we climb in.

Easton turns to me, his mouth positioned in that devilish smirk that I both love and hate. And right now, I’m not sure what he’s going to say.