The Wife Situation: A Billionaire Age Gap Marriage of Convenience Romance (Billionaire Situation Book 1)

We ride across town in a limo and are let out in front of a small building with a faded burger on the sign hanging crooked from the brick. I think it says Frankie’s, but I’m unsure because the sign isn’t illuminated and the paint is faded. It has character. I like it.

I turn to him, and he smiles.

“We’re here.”

“Great. I’m starving,” I admit, walking to the door.

When I’m close, he opens it and follows behind me.

Inside, there’s only enough room for five two-person tables. It’s cramped, and the menu is handwritten in Sharpie on faded poster board, but I can still see the three combos they offer.

A tabletop fan blows toward the cash register, fluttering pink ribbons from the center. It reminds me of my childhood and growing up in the Texas heat.

“Easton,” an older man says from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel before coming up front.

He has a Buddy Holly vibe with dark-framed glasses and a clean-cut haircut, but his mustache sets him apart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s Easton’s age with a dash of salt and pepper in his hair.

“Hey, man, long time no see.”

Easton smiles, looking like a diamond in the rough, like he doesn’t belong. “Frankie. I want you to meet Lexi.”

He holds his hand out to me. “Hi, Lexi. Short for Alexis?”

“Actually, yes.” I take his firm grip. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Where ya from?” he asks, and I wonder how Easton knows him. “Catching a hint of Southern.”

“Texas,” I explain with a smile. “West Texas.”

“Ahh, yes. I can hear it now. So, what’re you two lovebirds having?”

Easton looks at me as I stare at the menu one last time before I order. “I’ll have a cheeseburger with onions, lettuce, and mayo. Seasoned fries. Bottled Coke.”

Frankie looks at Easton. “You told her your order?”

“No,” he says. “Pure coincidence.”

“Hope you enjoy your meals,” Frankie tells us, returning to the kitchen. “Two patties down,” he yells over his shoulder.

As soon as the hamburger meat hits the grill, I hear the sizzle.

Easton pays with a hundred and tells him to keep the change. We move to one of the small tables with mismatched chairs.

He pulls mine out for me and I sit. Afterward, he grabs our sodas and pops off the caps, using the bottle opener bolted to the counter’s edge, before joining me.

“Another place you frequented with your grandfather?” I ask as he hands me the icy-cold bottle.

He stops before placing the bottle to his perfect lips. “Not this place. Frankfort—or Frankie, as he likes to be called—and I attended Harvard together.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Some dream of being CEO; others dream of owning a hamburger stand. But the Italian place, yes, I frequented it with my grandfather. How’d you know?”

“The menu had a history section that mentioned what your family did to save their business.”

He grins. “Ahh, so you do pay attention.”

“More than you realize.”

“Well”—he takes his drink—“Frankie’s is one of my tests. I’ve brought every woman I’ve ever dated 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 her here.”

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 called How 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 just is.

“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.

Mom had true love with my father. I had some fucked-up version that I thought was real. Boy, was I fooled. My ex knew exactly what to say to me to appease me. I think that’s why I couldn’t believe he had a second life with someone else.

“I’ve been thinking about my past relationship and what I miss about it.”

“Yeah?” He listens intently as we eat.

“Companionship. The sex was never good, so it’s not even that. Years of bad sex—it sounds like a curse I got from a witch in the woods.”

Easton chuckles and nearly chokes. My eyes widen, and I’m two seconds away from doing the Heimlich, but he waves me away when I stand.

“Don’t go dying on me,” I whisper, sitting back down. “The rumors would be awful. Everyone would think I did it!”

He catches his breath. “So, you want companionship?”

“And amazing sex,” I whisper.

“That would complicate things.”

I take a sip of my drink. “Would it?”

“I wouldn’t want you falling in love with me, Lexi. And once that happened, you’d be a fiend, begging for more.” Easton picks up a napkin, trying to hide his smirk, that one that drives the tip of Cupid’s arrow straight into my heart.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He gives me a cocky-as-fuck shrug. “I’ve been told I’m addictive, like a drug.”

I chuckle. “And I’m sure you believe it.”

“Seeing is believing, darling.”

He finishes his fries, and when his phone buzzes, I take the opportunity to excuse myself.

“I need to go to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”

He laughs. “Good luck in there.”

I turn to him. “I’ll be okay.”

I move my chair under the table before walking around the corner and down the long hallway. The restroom is at the end, and when I enter, I take a deep breath and close my eyes tight.

Needing confirmation, I pull my phone from my back pocket and text one of my best friends from home, the only one who can give logical advice without emotions or matchmaking. She’s a computer genius, the most intelligent person I’ve ever met. We’ve been best friends since we were kids.

LEXI

How do I tell if I’m falling in love?

Her text bubble immediately pops up.

REMI

If you could invite anyone to hop in your dad’s hot rod and go on a road trip with you … who’d that be?

LEXI

Fuck.

REMI

Falling in love is the easy part. Keeping it is when it gets complicated.

LEXI

Smart woman. Thank you.

REMI

I hope to see you soon!

LEXI

We’ll see. I might have someone I want y’all to meet.

REMI

Girl, don’t get my hopes up! I’ll stick my boot up your ass.

I tuck my phone in my pocket and move to the mirror. I feel like I’m floating, but that happens anytime I’m around him for too long.

I will keep my end of the bargain.

I have to.

After I feel a bit calmer, I return to Easton.

“You okay?”

“Great,” I say, smiling.

Easton carries our baskets to the front counter.

Frankie waves at us. “Bye! Hope to see you again, Lexi!”

“You will,” I tell him.

We leave, the bell on the door clanging our departure before we get in the car that waited for us.

“My father called. I took two weeks off to be with you, Lexi,” he says as we zoom off. “Ready for an adventure?”

“I’ll go anywhere with you.”

This pleases him, but he turns away so I can’t see his reaction. However, I can see him holding back a grin in the window’s reflection.

I glance at the sunroof and open it, then stand to take in the city. I wave Easton up with me, and we stand beside each other, smiling.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asks.

“No,” I admit. “I saw it in a movie once.”

He studies my lips, touching my cheek, and I melt into him. I swallow, noticing our breaths growing more ragged.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

“No,” he says in a low voice. “Not this time.”

I smile. “Too bad. Might’ve been magical.”

My hair whips around in the wind, and when we pick up speed, Easton pulls me down with him.

Twenty minutes later, the car comes to a stop. When the door opens, I see we’re at an airport, and there’s a private jet waiting on the tarmac with the stairs down.

“Easton,” I whisper.

He places his hand on my back and leads me to the stairs. At the top, a beautiful flight attendant eagerly awaits.

I look over my shoulder as the driver unloads suitcases from the trunk, knowing Easton had this planned. Then, I move my attention to him, and he catches me staring. I find the strength to turn away and continue up the stairs.

“Hi, Ms. Matthews. Welcome aboard,” the blonde tells me.

I step inside and it’s like nothing I’ve ever imagined—a leather sitting area, a bar, and several luxury seats. There’s a door in the back, which is probably another room.

“Hi,” Easton says to the flight attendant behind me.

When his hand finds its home on my back, I relax. I sit, and he takes the one next to me.

“This is too much,” I tell him.

“For you, there isn’t a limit.”

I laugh. “You’re being ridiculous. Things that impress me, money can’t buy.”

“That’s something we can agree on,” he says matter-of-factly.

Not too long later, the private jet lifts off, and I watch Manhattan’s skyline fade through the large circular window.

The flight attendant brings us booze in glasses with ball-shaped ice.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?” I ask, taking a sip of the smooth drink.

“Hell no,” he says, checking his watch. “I’m not letting you ruin this.”

I should’ve expected that answer. As I watch the skyline disappear, I close the window shade and turn to him.

“I want to get to know you, the real you. Away from it all. Just me and you.”

“Why?” I drown in his blue eyes.

“I’m marrying you. I want to know my wife.” His voice drops.

My eyes slide down to his mouth, and that smirk might do me in this time. I follow the buttons down his shirt, which is rolled at the elbows, showing his tattoos.

“Can I ask you anything while we’re together?”

“No limits. I have nothing to hide from you.”

I tilt my head. “You might regret saying that.”

“Try me.” It sounds like a dare.

The cabin lights lower and I pull my gaze away from Easton’s perfect mouth, one that’s assuredly broken many hearts.

I want to know him, all of his secrets, and I’ll keep them until the end of time. I want to know what makes him tick, what he dreams about, and what makes him happy. Everything. Because right now, this man is an enigma.

“You should get comfortable,” he tells me, lifting the armrest between us.

When he opens his arms, I hesitate.

“You think sleeping on stone is comfy?”

His laugh floats through the air, and it’s contagious.

He leans in and whispers in my ear, “The flight attendant hasn’t stopped watching us together.”

I understand. We’re not alone. The show must go on.

I slide my arms around him and rest my head on his chest. His heartbeat rapidly thumps; it’s faster than average.

I pull away to meet his eyes and don’t realize how close I am, but I can’t find the strength to create space. He doesn’t either.

“You good?” I whisper, searching his eyes.

He tucks loose hair behind my ear. “Better than ever.”

“Your heart is racing.”

“I have a secret,” he says. “I hate flying.”

For a brief second, I see a sliver of this man’s vulnerable side.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you,” I whisper, moving back into position.

Easton places his arms around me, holding me tighter against him. The smell of him nearly tugs me under—mahogany with a hint of mint.

He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger as I listen to him inhale and exhale slowly. The real him, the man he hides under designer suits, hates crowds and flying and frequently does both. I don’t envy the money and what he sacrifices by having it.

“You smell good,” I whisper, smiling. He encapsulates me.

“You do too,” he says back.

His heart rate eventually slows, and when I nuzzle into his chest, he relaxes. I’m lost in my thoughts, thinking about what Remi said. I think about my dad and if he’d have liked Easton or what he’d have said after meeting him. He always told me to find a man who appreciated vintage cars because they were the ones who still opened doors for ladies.

He was right.

My eyes grow heavy, and it doesn’t take long before I drift off as we soar through the sky like a bullet.

“Lexi,” I hear Easton say, lightly brushing his fingertips against the outside of my arm.

“Mmm?” For a moment, I’m not sure where I am.

“We’re about to land,” he mutters in a gruff tone.

I sit up, rolling my neck on my shoulders, feeling stiff.

Easton yawns and I lift the window shade. It’s still dark outside, and my mouth falls open as we descend.

The moonlight illuminates the snowcaps at the top of the tall peaks.

“Are those mountains?”

“I love seeing your excitement,” he says as we touch down into a valley.

We taxi to a private hangar, the flight attendant helps us deboard, and a blacked-out car waits. It’s the middle of June, but there’s briskness in the air.

Our suitcases are loaded into the back of the car, and then we leave. The windows are dark, so I can’t see through them, and I wonder if that’s by design. Maybe I won’t be able to ruin his surprise.

Easton leans his head against the seat and closes his eyes. I take the opportunity to study how fucking beautiful he is.

His eyes flutter open, meeting mine, and I feel like I’m locked in place, frozen in time, knowing he caught me. Neither of us says a word as we hold a silent conversation, and I’m glad he can’t hear my heartbeat right now.

“We’re almost there,” he says.

His arm brushes against me as he checks his watch. He closes his eyes again and leans his head back.

His lips turn up into a small smile. “Lexi, I can feel you staring.”

I can’t deny it. I focus my attention forward. It’s nothing but a two-lane highway and headlights guiding the way. We’re the only vehicle on the road.

Eventually, the car stops and Easton’s door opens. He walks to my side and holds out his hand. I take it as I admire the log cabin mansion.

“Uh …”

He smirks. “Come on.”

The driver follows behind us with our luggage, and Easton punches the code on the front door. It opens and he leads me inside.

A wooden chandelier with lights that flicker like candles hangs from the high ceiling, and I notice the gigantic vase of white roses under it on a center table. The door clicks closed and he stands beside me, crossing his arms over his chest.

“This is one of my favorite places to be,” he admits. “I can’t wait for you to see the view in the morning over coffee.”

He leads me into the living room, and an entire wall is windows. A stone fireplace starts at the floor and goes to the ceiling. I spot the bookshelf across the room. Behind me is a staircase that spirals to the top floor. It drips elegance and sophistication but still feels like home in a warm way.

“And where will I sleep tonight?”

“There are five bedrooms, and they’ve all been prepared for our arrival. It’s your choice.”

“How long are we staying?”

“Until Thursday, unless you’d like to stay longer,” he says.

He’s dressed in black from head to toe, staring at me like the devil he is.

“I can do basic math, Easton. We’ll leave here on day fourteen.”

“And your point?”

“What if, on day fifteen, you realize this was a mistake?”

He narrows his eyes. “And what if, on day fifteen, I realize I want more than a year?”

“See, when you say things like that …” I nervously laugh.

He shrugs. “I can’t predict the future. Can you?”

“Well, no.”

“You’re dreading something that might not even happen,” he says, leading me to the second floor. He gives me a quick tour of the house. “You can back out, but I need to know now.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” I confirm. “At this point, I’m continuing through with this out of spite. To confirm I’m anti-love.”

“And what if you bust your myth?”

I press my lips together. “I guess I will win either way. But right now, I’m not convinced it’s possible.”

I say those words, but do I mean them?

“To be truthful, I’m not either,” he tells me.

Easton lets me choose where I’d like to stay, so I take the suite at the end of the hallway. It’s at the opposite end of the house from his dark gray room, which looks like the living quarters of the vampire, Lestat. It even comes with a wooden carved bed and a Gothic chandelier.

Easton sets my suitcase beside the oak dresser and leans against the doorframe. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you,” I say, kicking off my shoes.

Then, I open my suitcase and pull out something to sleep in.

“I can feel you staring,” I say with my back toward him.

I know he’s watching me. He always is.

“The difference between me and you is, I’m not ashamed.”

I glance at him over my shoulder, meeting his eyes.

Fuck. I cannot handle him looking at me like that.

“Good night, Easton.”

“Good night, Lexi.”

He lifts a brow, as if waiting for me to say something, but no words come. I turn away from him, not daring to get captured in his delicious web.

When the door closes behind him, I wiggle out of my pants and thin sweater, sliding on an old, faded T-shirt I’ve had for years.

I turn off the light and slip between the silk sheets, staring at the vaulted ceiling in a house tucked into the mountains. Everything about Easton fills my thoughts, and I squeeze my thighs together as my body begs for a release.

I haven’t touched myself in months, but right now, as I envision his blue eyes watching me and his mouth on me, I slide my fingers between my legs. My pussy is slick, and I slam my eyes shut as I rub gently against my clit.

A whimper escapes me as I imagine him hovering above me. My heart races, and I’m already so worked up that if I don’t pull away, I’ll come. And I want to come. I need to come.

I think about him in the other room, grabbing his thick cock and stroking it to the thought of me, and I dip one finger inside my pussy. I’m wet, and I need more, so I give myself a second finger.

“Easton,” I whisper. His name falls from my lips like a prayer.

My body tenses, and as I’m about to spill over the edge, I hear a knock on the door.

“Lexi?” Easton asks from the other side.

I try to suck in air to speak, but my breathing is so ragged that I’m nearly gasping out.

“Mmhmm?” I urge, then cover my mouth.

Every rustle of the sheet as my hand moves is enhanced, so I slow my pace. I’m about to explode, but I hold off.

“I thought I heard something. Do you need any help?”

Fuck, if he only knew what he could help me with right now, in this very moment.

The thoughts of him turning the knob and climbing into bed with me are almost too much. I want his lips and tongue and eyes on me. The fantasy could be a reality.

“No,” I pant out, slowly returning to my cunt, knowing he’s on the other side of that door as I teeter on the edge to thoughts of him.

“Are you sure?” I hear something in his voice. Desire.

My hand falls back to my clit, rubbing torturous circles as my body begs for release. And then it happens; the orgasm takes hold, and I come so fucking hard that my vision blurs. My pussy pulses and it nearly rips me to shreds.

“Yes,” I say breathlessly.

“Mmm. Good night, darling,” he growls.

And I realize what he’s doing to me—getting under my skin.

I fold my arm over my eyes and lick my lips, knowing I’ve never experienced anything quite like that.

And it’s all Easton.

He’s right; he is a goddamn drug. Even in my fantasies, he has me begging for more.

I roll over, feeling the exhaustion take over. And as I fall asleep, I think getting away will be good for us.

By the end of his two-week vacation, I’ll know this man better than anyone else.

Hell, that might go both ways.