Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Realtor?” Naomi asks.
“Easton is buying a place here to be close to the baby.”
“And you,” he says. “This isn’t just about the baby.” He kisses me firmly on the lips.
My neck and cheeks warm up, knowing Naomi is watching. Thankfully she doesn’t comment on it. But when I glance over, I notice she and Easton are sharing some kind of look. “What?”
“Nothing,” they both say in unison. Okay…
“Where’s Kendall? Sleeping?” Naomi asks.
“Yeah. I’ll wake her up so we can go.”
“Or she can stay with me. I’m home the rest of the day. You two can go look at places and grab something to eat—kid-less.”
“You sure?” Kendall will no doubt be bored looking at homes.
“Yep. Go on. Get out of here.”
“All right, thanks.” I stand. “Maybe while we’re out, I can see what apartments are out there and available.”
After I finish getting ready, we head out. Easton is driving his own vehicle today. He tells me it’s his dad’s, since his are all still in California, so it’s easy to get from place to place. He’s gotten it approved by the realtor to get the codes from each home, so we can look at them without her—the perks of being rich and famous, I guess.
We stop at a deli he likes and grab a late lunch. I’m worried about being seen, but it seems he’s off the radar here. While we’re eating, he hands me his phone with all the listings pulled up. The realtor has sent him over a dozen that meet his criteria.
“We should probably narrow them down. They’re spread out all over New York. Where’s your studio located?”
“Off Madison, near Bryant Park.”
“Okay, so let’s look at the homes in that area first.”
“Where are you planning to look for places?” he asks, popping a chip into his mouth. “I want to be near you.”
I laugh. “Your budget is a little different than mine. Plus, I’m hoping to stay in my area. Kendall loves her school and if I move out of that zone, she’ll have to switch schools.”
Easton nods.
We go through his criteria and narrow it down to five places to look at. The first two are nice—not my taste, far too much white—but he says they’re not what he’s looking for. The third place is gorgeous, but it’s four floors like his parents’ place, and when I point out that will be a lot of up and down with a baby, he agrees.
We walk into the fourth place and it’s beautiful. Three stories—living room, dining room, kitchen, and full bath on the first, three bedrooms and two bathrooms on the second, and the master bedroom, en suite bathroom, and an office on the third. Everything is dark wood and stainless steel.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I think if I were rich, I would buy this place,” I say in awe. “It’s even in Kendall’s school district,” I joke.
He smiles warmly. “Yeah, it’s nice.”
“Nice?” I splutter. “It’s gorgeous. Did you see the breakfast nook in the kitchen? And the walk-in closets? If you don’t buy it, I just might have to.”
Easton laughs. “This place is definitely a possibility, so don’t go trying to outbid me yet. Where to next?”
We look at the last place, and like all the others, it’s beautiful. But my favorite is still house number four.
“What do you think? There are more places we can look at.” I’m exhausted, my feet hurt, and I’m ready for bed, but I don’t tell him that.
“I think we’ve looked at enough places today,” he says, as if reading my mind. “It’s late. Let’s get something to eat for dinner and then go home.”
“That sounds perfect.”
When we get back to my place, it’s already after eight. Kendall is fast asleep and Naomi is in her room. I knock to let her know we’re here, and then Easton drags me into my room, closing the door behind us.
While I’m getting changed into something more comfortable, his realtor calls to see how it all went. I overhear him talking to her, and since I’m only hearing one side, I don’t know all that’s being said, but when he mentions the price of the place, my heart stops. It’s so easy to forget that Easton is rich when he’s hanging out at my house and playing karaoke or watching movies. But the fact is we’re way different—and I’m not only talking about our tax brackets.
“She’s going to place an offer on the house in Lennox,” he says, hanging up.
“Are you sure that’s necessary?”
He shoots me a confused look.
“I just mean, from what I overheard, it’s expensive, and you mentioned you own a home in California… and I imagine you’ll eventually go back.”
His brown eyes harden slightly. “I do have a home in California, but you said your home is here, so that means mine is too.”