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“Yeah, but I married her son without her knowing, and it’s been almost two months since the wedding and we’re just now visiting.”

“She and Owen have been just as busy as we have.” He lifts my hand from the seat and kisses the back of it as if it is the most natural thing in the world.

He’s been doing that more lately—little touches here and there like a real couple would share. But he’s not just doing them out in public where there are eyes. He’s doing them when we’re alone, too.

And it’s making me wonder if the shift between us isn’t something only I’m noticing.

I finally admitted the truth to myself the other night as I masturbated in bed, yet again, before Easton got home from work—I’m attracted to my best-friend-turned-husband.

But I also know that crossing the line would be idiotic.

It would negate everything we agreed to. It would jeopardize the friendship we’ve finally rekindled.

And it would make our situation even more complicated.

Then why can’t you stop thinking about what crossing the line would feel like, Lennon?

And why are you nervous as you meet his mom for the first time as his wife?

Easton shifts his truck into park as we arrive at the house. Valerie is already on the porch, waving at us eagerly. “See? She’s the opposite of mad.”

Sighing, I move to open my door, but before I can step down, Easton is beside me, offering me his hand to steady me.

Damn him.

It’s so much easier to keep him at arm’s length when he isn’t constantly trying to take care of me, even if it’s a simple thing like helping me down from the truck.

Or bringing me a cushion for my tailbone.

Or nightly foot rubs.

Or giving me a pregnancy pillow that’s supposed to help me sleep better as my stomach grows.

Yeah, that was his move this week, and I’ll be the first to say it was the best night of sleep I’ve had in weeks.

But it’s gestures like those that make me want the things I shouldn’t even more.

When we were sitting on the couch the other night, talking and laughing together, it felt so natural. So real.

But all I could think about was Easton calling me sexy a few weeks ago—and the hard evidence of his attraction pressing against his jeans while he sat beside me.

So does that mean he might be open to helping me with the little problem I’m facing currently? The one where the need I might want him to fulfill is the one of the down-right dirty sex variety?

“Lennon Riley!” Valerie exclaims as she sashays down the steps of the porch and over to us, wearing dark blue denim and a light blue blouse. She grabs my hand and instantly pulls me in for a hug. “God, you look just like you did back in high school.” When she leans back and our eyes meet, she adds, “And trust me, that’s a compliment.”

“Thank you, Valerie. You look the same too, if that’s possible.”

She waves a hand at me. “Oh, trust me, honey. Age is keeping up with me. There’s plenty more gray hair and wrinkles on this head.”

Valerie Buckley has always had a soft, feminine look to her with long dark hair and naturally beautiful features. In fact, I think I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen this woman wear makeup. Her smile is so bright that she doesn’t need anything else to highlight her face, and those green eyes of hers that both of her boys inherited are shining with happiness, framed by delicate wrinkles as she looks at me.

I smile back. “Well, I certainly haven’t noticed. I just can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”

Valerie glances at Easton. “Well, let’s just blame that on Easton, shall we?”

Easton rolls his eyes. “Sure. Let’s start the blame game early so hopefully it ends sooner, please.”

I place a hand on my hip. “Hey. You and my mom have decided to gang up on me. I think it’s only right that your mom and I gang up on you.”