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“No, but it’s just better to be prepared in case someone comes by and questions this. The only people that know the truth about everything are Elodie and Owen, right?”

“And Nora,” I add.

“Right. So, your parents and the rest of our friends and everyone around town are going to be watching us. And what if they stop by unannounced?”

“Oh shit.” I slap my hand to my head. “Ginny knows about the baby and that we got married too, and she heard it from her cousin who works at the courthouse.”

“See? It’s only a matter of time before the whole town is buzzing with the news.” He walks over to the bed. “The right side is mine, so…”

“Good. I like the left.”

“Looks like we were meant to be, huh, wifey?” He grimaces as if he just caught himself off guard with his comment.

I bite my bottom lip because hearing Easton refer to me as his wife sounds so strange—but also, I don’t hate it.

I never considered myself a traditional woman in the sense that marriage and kids were something I had to have. I figured if life handed me those lemons, I’d make lemonade when the time fit and be all in.

But now, it feels like I’m making lemonade out of thin air, married and having a baby, and this transition in my life is so far removed from how I imagined it going that I feel like I’m still warming up to the idea of what this all means.

Easton walks over to two doors on the far wall, pointing to each. “That’s the master bathroom, and that’s the walk-in closet.” He opens the right one and flicks a light on. “As you can see, clothes aren’t my thing, so there’s plenty of room for yours.”

“Damn. Your next wife is gonna be tickled pink with the size of this closet.”

“Ha. Yeah.” Easton casts his gaze away from me and walks back out of the small room. I turn the lights out as I follow him, regretting trying to crack a joke about his next marriage because the tension wafting off of him is palpable.

Luckily, he lets it slide as he leads me back out to the main part of the house. Fanning his hand out to the right, he says, “Kitchen and dining room, obviously. Living room to the left. Garage is through the door ahead…”

“Your house is really nice, Easton.”

“Thank you. It’s still a work in progress.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been dying to repaint and redo the floors. I’d also like to start the deck and porch on the back of the house that I envisioned the second I bought the place.” He motions for me to follow him outside to stand on the grass right outside the door. “I want the deck to extend the entire length of the house. And then I want to add a covered patio for shade.”

My eyes go wide. “Do you plan to do that by yourself?”

“Most of it. Owen will probably help me when he has time, but I know my way around power tools.”

“You need rocking chairs then.”

“Why?”

“For the baby,” I say without thinking. “I mean…”

If I could physically stick my foot in my mouth right now, I would. I can’t believe I just insinuated that this man has to do anything for me and my child.

Easton rests his hand on my forearm, calming me. “No. Go on. Why for the baby?”

“It’s silly.”

“I doubt it.”

I look anywhere but at him as I explain myself. “My mom got rocking chairs on our porch when I was a kid, and I remember her taking Nora outside to rock her because it was one of the only ways she could get her to stop crying at night.”

“She didn’t have a rocking chair inside?”

“She did, but Nora hated it. She loved being outside. I remember my father bringing a blanket out and putting it over the two of them, even sleeping next to them for a while in the other rocking chair until they woke up.”