Chapter 25
As the plane touches down on the private runway, I feel sick.
“Are you okay?” Easton asks, interlocking his fingers with mine and kissing my knuckles.
“I’m nervous. It’s not something I experience often.”
“It’s home though. Your stomping grounds.”
“It is. But I left for a reason, and I had something to prove. Now, I’m back to flaunt my man?” I shake my head. “It seems ridiculous.”
“You’re not flaunting anything. I’m meeting your family before I propose. I’ll ask your mother and brothers for permission and get to know those closest to you.”
I search his face. “Do you have a death wish?”
“Some would say I do. But also, it’s Southern tradition, isn’t it?” He chuckles.
“Yes. Of course.”
“I want to give you a full ten out of five experience, considering you’re providing that for me.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling. I think about my dad, how he’d have adored Easton and his love for vintage cars. Dad probably would’ve threatened him to treat his little girl right. Not that Easton even needs the warning. He’s been the perfect gentleman—other than him getting me fired, but I’ve forgiven him for that.
“I just want people to like you. What if this makes things worse?”
“They’ll love me. Believe it or not, I can be charming. Together, we’re unstoppable, babe.” He laughs. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention that Weston has set up a private meeting with Mayor Martinez at the end of the week.”
“Why?” My mouth falls open.
“I’ve decided to make a generous donation to Valentine for you, my darling. We’re discussing where the funds will be assigned. I’d love for you to help with the decision-making, unless you’d prefer not to be involved.”
I blink at him in disbelief. “Easton, that’s amazing, but you don’t have to do that.”
“I know. However, it’s being done anonymously, so no unwanted attention is brought to us or you.”
“Right.” I chuckle. “They’ll know it was you after we visit.”
“Speculation.”
We deplane, and our luggage is loaded into the limo waiting for us.
I stop walking. “We’re showing up in that? Shall we call the chief of police to give us an escort into town?”
“Too much?” he asks, watching me.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’d like no attention. We’ll have enough to deal with already.”
The driver stares at us, holding the door open, waiting for me to climb inside.
Easton doesn’t move. Instead, he turns to the driver. “I’d like a different vehicle, please. No limo. Nothing extravagant.”
He snaps the professional on. “Yes, Mr. Calloway. I’ll send another driver. Will an SUV be sufficient, or would you prefer something else?”
Easton waits for me to speak, letting me answer.
“That would be great,” I say, smiling at the man.
He gives me a nod and unloads our luggage. Easton tips him, and the car drives away.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, knowing this will slow us down.
We’re led to the private hangar as the crew scrambles around us.
“I’ve inconvenienced everyone.”
“Please don’t apologize.” His voice is silky smooth. He places his strong hand on the small of my back and meets my eyes. “You are never an inconvenience, Lexi. I want you to be comfortable. Your boundaries, wants, and needs are important to me. At times, I’m out of touch. You bringing me back to reality is welcome and appreciated at any time of the day.”
His phone vibrates in his pocket, but he doesn’t answer. He’s focused on me and our conversation. I like being the center of his attention.
“I mean it.”
“Thank you,” I say, relaxing. “Thanks for caring and not being upset. Most men—”
“I’m not most men.” He tilts his head, giving me a half smile. “Also, I’d never be upset with you over something so … trivial. You being you is what I want and appreciate. Honesty is the best policy, consequences be damned. Speak up if it happens again, okay?”
I nod and wrap my arms around him. He pulls me into a hug, breathing in my hair as I inhale him. We stay like this for a few minutes, and I don’t want to let him go, not when it comes so easily. Many don’t make eye contact with us, but I know they’re watching, but I’m not doing it for them.
Fifteen minutes later, a dark SUV with blacked-out windows arrives.
Easton leans close. “Is this okay? If not, say the word. I can do this with you all night. No fucks given.”
“It’s perfect,” I say with a laugh, relaxing.
Then, we force ourselves away from one another.
Easton walks to the door and opens it for me. When I’m settled, he joins me on the other side. Once I’m buckled, I reach for Easton’s hand, and he takes mine. I like how his thumb rubs across mine; it’s a simple reminder that he’s there and we’re doing this together.
The front passenger door opens and closes and my eyes widen when I see Brody in his typical garb.
“There you are.” I smile, leaning forward. “I kind of missed seeing you. What have you been up to over the past few days?”
Brody shakes his head but ignores me, per usual. It’s to be expected.
Easton clears his throat. “Are you two friends now?”
“Yeah, he hung out with Carlee and me in our apartment. Even offered him a beer while he was hanging out.” I smirk, knowing he made me lose a hundred bucks.
“Excuse me?” Easton’s brows furrow.
“Oh, yeah. He didn’t tell you?” I squeeze Easton’s hand. “I also learned he’s your cousin and a dickwad, like you.”
Laughter falls from Easton’s perfect lips and he grins. “And what else did he share with you?”
Brody chuckles, but doesn’t say anything.
“That was about it.”
I don’t mention anything else we discussed. It will be our secret.
The driver climbs in, and we exit the airport.
I glance at Easton as we leave.
“I still expect the answer to my question in two days. I haven’t forgotten, my little heartbreaker,” he says.
I’m brought back to being in the tent, when he asked me if I was genuinely anti-love.
Right now, I don’t know.
The answer should be yes, without hesitation.
However, this man has somehow burrowed himself under my skin and is swimming through my blood like poison, destroying all my opinions about love.
“Kinda feels like we’re counting down to the new year,” I say.
“In a way, we are.”
“So, today is your lucky number day?”
He nods. “Yep. Thirteen.”
“Should I expect a cheeseburger and a breakup text soon?”
Brody coughs to cover up his laughter.
Of course he knows.
He’s probably witnessed each time Easton ate alone at Frankie’s.
“Still to be determined,” Easton says, smirking.
I playfully roll my eyes.
We drive several hours to Valentine, and Easton is on his phone the entire time.
It’s late afternoon, and most shops on Main Street are still open. In the summer, they usually stay open later, thanks to the tourists who frequent Big Bend National Park and the observatory on Mount Locke. Things slow down in the winter, except in December, when the town transforms into a place one would find in a snow globe.
As we pass the bookstore, newspaper office, diner, and grocery store, heads turn. Maybe the SUV is too much.
“Fuck,” Easton whispers, focusing out the front windshield. “Paps are already here.”
Only then do I see them with the long-lens cameras, like they were waiting for us. I dip down in my seat, not allowing them to take a photo of me from the front windshield.
“I’m sorry,” Easton whispers.
“It comes with the territory,” I say, smiling. “No worries.”
He nods as we continue out of town and travel down the long, winding road, where most of the family ranches are in the area.
“Are we going to my parents’ place now?” I ask, unsure if I’m prepared to face my mother so soon.
I haven’t asked about our plans since it happened so fast, which might have been a mistake.
“We’re staying at the bed-and-breakfast at Horseshoe Creek Ranch. I booked it for four nights. We’ll fly back to New York on Sunday.”
My mouth falls open. “My best friend growing up works there.”
“Remi? Why are you making that face?”
It’s shock.
“Because she knows me better than Carlee.”
“This will be very interesting. I look forward to speaking with her.”
“I already told her about you.”
He smirks. “Even better.”
Remi is three years younger than me, but we became fast friends when we were kids, after I spilled purple juice on her favorite T-shirt. Bad first impressions have followed me since I was a kid. She was the valedictorian of her class, intelligent beyond her years, and loved to read too. Not to mention, her family founded the town, which is their namesake. Everyone knows the Valentine family. They’re small-town royalty.
I laugh. “Actually, I think she’s having a barn birthday party this weekend. It’s on the same property as the B & B.”
“A barn party?” He’s confused.
“It’s better than a pasture party, especially if it starts raining. That way, there’s shelter.” I try to hide laughter because he has no idea what I’m talking about.
“You’re bluffing,” he states.
“I’m not. We should attend though. Her brothers, Beckett and Harrison, always host unforgettable parties. You might get the full Southern experience while you’re here. By the end, maybe you’ll be wearing Wranglers and saying y’all and yeehaw.”
“And maybe you’ll be saying I do.”
“Still waiting for that ring,” I say, shooting him a wink as my heart beats harder when he tries to hold back a smile.
Eventually, the SUV slows and turns into Horseshoe Creek Ranch’s long rock driveway.
The farmhouse sits in the distance against the backsplash of the fading sun on hundreds of acres of land. Summer Jones and Beckett Valentine renovated the house last year and transformed it into a bed-and-breakfast. Summer is my age and Beckett is a few years older. They fell madly in love after nearly fist fighting one another for this property. In the end, they both won, because they fell in love, are engaged, and now share the ranch.
It’s still light enough outside to see all the new structures on the ranch, mainly Valentine Veterinary Clinic and the stables and the horse training facility that’s set far behind the house.
When the SUV parks in front of the house, I become more nervous than I was when we landed.
I didn’t tell anyone I was visiting Valentine, not even my family. I’m working on my surprise skills, but considering I’m here to prove my temporary marriage is legitimate, this could be a mistake.
Easton opens my door and holds out his hand for me. We walk up the wide steps together, and my eyes wander over the flowers. I’m impressed.
Summer, the owner of the B & B and a friend, must’ve hired someone to keep them alive in this heat. It’s known around town that she has a brown thumb and can’t keep a plant alive to save her life. Seeing the purple and pink wildflowers makes me happy.
Easton opens the screen door and steps aside, allowing me to enter first. It smells like homemade chocolate chip cookies and freshly brewed coffee. We move through the common area toward the front desk that’s set off to the side.
The last time I was inside was during the grand opening almost a year ago. The place is typically booked, especially during this time, so I’m curious how Easton pulled it off. I guess money talks.
I move toward the registration counter and don’t see anyone around, so I ring the bell. I’m not sure if it will be Summer here or Remi.
DING. The noise is piercing.
I turn to look at Easton, and he shrugs, glancing around.
It’s eerily quiet inside.
A few seconds later, Remi comes from the kitchen, carrying a plate of cookies, and her eyes widen. “Oh my goodness! What’re you doin’ here?”
“Surprise!” I say, and she hugs me tight. “Happy early birthday!”
She laughs and takes a step back, noticing Easton. Her eyes wander from his shoes to his suit pants; stark white button-up shirt, rolled to his elbows; over his tattoos; and up to his blue eyes and messy hair.
“Damn, you’re intimidating,” she says. “Wow.”
I snicker because it’s true, especially when he shows all the beautiful tattoos on his forearms.
“I’ve been told that on more than one occasion. I’m Easton Calloway. And you are?”
“Remington Valentine.” She holds out her hand to give him a shake, and he takes it. She continues, “But call me Remi. Anyone who uses my full name gets punched in the dick.” She gives him a sweet smile but holds up her fist.
“Noted. Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Remi.” He chuckles. “We’d like to check in, please.”
She shakes her head; her ponytail swooshes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a reservation in either of your names and we’re currently booked until Sunday.”
“It should be under Andrew Callo. It’s an alias I use when I travel,” he explains.
I turn to him. I didn’t know he used aliases.
“Wow, you’re the guy who rented the entire B & B through the weekend?” she continues.
Easton nods. “I like my privacy.”
Remi lifts a brow, impressed. She moves behind the desk and types on the laptop. “I’ve got a note about that right here. No one will bother you, guaranteed. I’ll pretend like you don’t exist.”
“That’s appreciated,” he states.
I’m brought back to being at the W and how everyone on the property knew not to disturb Mr. Calloway while he was there. Some things don’t change.
Easton’s cell rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket. He looks down at it before meeting my eyes. “I need to take this.”
“Sure,” I say, and he strolls to the sitting area and answers. His voice is low, so I can’t hear what he’s saying.
Remi leans across the desk, wearing a grin. “He’s the one you texted me about, isn’t he?”
“Yep. That’s him, in the flesh.”
I glance over my shoulder at all six foot two of him. He checks his watch and meets my eyes, as if I summoned his attention. A smile meets his lips, and he nods but continues his conversation. Electricity streams between us.
I’m doomed.
“You didn’t say he looked like that. My God. I’m moving to New York.”
“I know,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I’m so screwed.”
“I can tell.” She waggles her brows at me as Brody enters through the front door. “Oh, who’s he?”
“Brody, the bodyguard,” I tell her, and she snickers.
She turns and grabs every key from a locked cabinet. “He rented all the rooms. Do you need all of these?”
“How did he pull it off?” I ask, looking down at ten physical keys on the counter.
She tilts her head. “He made an offer Summer couldn’t refuse.”
I shake my head. “I bet he did.”
“But now that she and Beckett are expecting—”
“What? I didn’t know. I bet she’s so happy.” Summer has always wanted a family. “Oh goodness, that means you’re going to be an aunt. Congrats!”
She smiles. “Thanks. I’m excited about it, but Kinsley has already claimed the favorite aunt title.”
It doesn’t surprise me. Kinsley—Remi’s older sister—is best friends with Summer.
She stops typing and her smile falters. “There are other things that have been going on though. Recently, I’ve noticed a lot of outsiders visiting.”
“It’s my fault,” I whisper.
“I know. They offered me a hundred bucks to talk about you. I told them to get fucked though. So did Kinsley. Pretty much everyone has.”
“Beau didn’t,” I admit.
Her eyes narrow. “What the fuck?”
Before I can say anything else, Easton and Brody join us.
I turn to him. “Here are our keys.”
“Which goes to the suite?” Easton asks.
Remi sorts through them and holds the key up. “This one.”
“And which room is farthest away from that one?” He meets her eyes and takes it.
She offers it to him, and Easton hands it to Brody, who places it in his pocket.
“Thank you. We don’t need any others.”
Remi chuckles. “I already like you.”
This makes me beam. If Easton is Remi-approved, this will be easy.
In a way, she’s a lot like Easton—introverted, very private, intelligent, and zero bullshit.
“And do we contact you if we need anything else?”
“I’ll be here during the night shift today, tomorrow, and Friday. Summer will arrive in the morning around seven, and breakfast will be served at eight. She loves to make pancakes. Just eat them, okay? She’s pregnant, and she’ll cry at the drop of a hat if you refuse.”
“I don’t like pancakes,” Easton states, and I elbow him in the stomach. “I’ll learn to love them. Thank you, Remi.” Then, he turns to me. “Ready to go to our room, darling?”
“Yes,” I say and grab his hand.
“Thank you,” I whisper to her over my shoulder.
She gives me a thumbs-up as we make our way to the narrow staircase, and he goes first.
The house is over a hundred years old, and some stairs squeak as we take them. Easton glances at me over his shoulder and grins. It’s then I wish I could draw this moment.
As soon as we’re on the top floor, he leads us to the room at the end of the hallway and unlocks the door. Easton steps inside and pulls me with him. Within one step, my back presses against the cool wood as he stands close.
One of his palms rests flat against the door, and his other lifts my chin, and I meet his eyes.
“So, was all the eye-fucking you did today real or fake?”
I smirk and lift my brows. “What do you think?”
He bends his head down closer to my ear. “I don’t think I could handle it if I was wrong.”
My breath hitches, and I grab his shirt, tugging him closer to me.
Mere inches from his mouth, I whisper, “Real.”