The Forever Experiment

13. Easton

13

Easton

My cheeks ache from the weight of the grin I haven’t been able to let go of for the past twenty-four hours. Yesterday, after I handed in my letter of resignation, Maya and I got her added to my flight to LAX—along with a First Class upgrade she insisted on—and we landed in Los Angeles late last night.

Rather than having my sister pick me up from the airport as initially planned, Maya and I booked a hotel near Penelope’s apartment complex—another top floor suite—and made good use of those paneled windows too.

Now, my hand is splayed over my wife’s thigh, her small fingers wrapped in mine, the ring I bought her sparkling, and I have my own ring back too. As our ride pulls up in front of Muse, I watch Maya’s breath pick up before she turns to me. “I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be.” I raise her hand to my lips. “Penelope’s like a tabby cat. She’s only going to scratch you if it’s really warranted, and if anything, she’ll be more concerned for you being married to me than the other way around.”

She tilts her head at me. “Why do you do that? Think so lowly of yourself?”

“Self-deprecation is my sense of humor, I guess?” I flash her an unconvincing smile.

Her features are serious when she responds, “You are worthy of being my husband, Easton. It’s an insult to me to insinuate otherwise. I’m not an idiot, and I wouldn’t marry one either.”

I nod rapidly. “Sorry, baby. You’re right.”

I squeeze her hand before getting out of the car and rounding the other side to open her door. As she steps out, she brushes her hands down her jeans, straightening out her sweater and tugging on the bun atop her head. “Do I look okay?”

“You’re perfect.” I kiss her cheek before tugging her hand and leading her inside the art gallery Penelope and Carter own.

Muse is structured to feel breezy and freeing, decorated in shades of blue and beige with terracotta accents, a trickling waterfall in the corner of the entry, and soft instrumental music playing throughout the open space. One may mistake it for a day spa rather than an art gallery.

All the pieces feature local or up-and-coming artists, and everything is centered around nature and landscapes. Podiums are spread throughout the large main room with sculptures, and paintings are strung on the walls, with one corner of the gallery focused on photography.

The door chimes when it clicks shut behind us, and a soft voice calls, “I’ll be right with you!” from the office behind the reception desk. I recognize my sister’s musical tone immediately, smiling to myself as I walk Maya through the gallery while we wait.

Our hands are linked as we stroll through the space. She points out several paintings, and I’m fairly certain a number of them were done by my sister. Finally, I hear the stomping of feet making their way in our direction from behind me.

My sister has always been a stomper. As a kid, if she was up walking around in the middle of the night, the entire house was woken from it. That girl never got away with so much as sneaking a midnight snack from the kitchen because she’s unknowingly loud as fuck.

I spin around, and my little sister is throwing herself into my open arms. Her deep red hair sways against my hands as I wrap them around her, and she locks hers at my waist. “Hi, Pep.”

“Hi. I missed you,” she mumbles into my chest.

“I missed you too.” I squeeze her before letting go.

As she takes a step back, her massive green eyes finally fall on Maya. “Oh.” She blinks. “I’m so sorry. I had tunnel vision.” Penelope chuckles, holding out a hand. “Hi, I’m Penelope.”

Maya returns the gesture, shaking my sister’s hand. “Maya.”

“Pep, Maya is my wife,” I proclaim proudly.

“Oh.” My sister’s mouth drops open, and she freezes. Maya drops her arm, looking at me with an unsure expression as Penelope’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of us rapidly. “Sorry, did you say wife?”

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, I’m interrupted by a gruff, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Not a second later, my sister’s boyfriend appears beside her. Carter throws an arm over Penelope’s shoulder, and she finally unfreezes, body immediately relaxing.

“ You got married? Like actually?” he asks, hazel eyes narrowing on me.

I grin. “Beat you to it, motherfucker.” Holding up her hand, I showcase Maya’s sparkling ring.

Penelope’s jaw sets, and her eyes flutter with annoyance as she glares up at her boyfriend, shoving herself out of his arms. “Sorry, he is so incredibly rude.” My sister opens her arms, offering Maya a hug. “I’m so happy to meet you, and I’d love to know the entire story of how this could’ve possibly happened.”

Maya’s eyes flash to mine, shining happily as she returns my sister’s embrace. “I’m so happy to meet you too.”

As they separate, Carter holds out his hand to Maya. “I’m not actually rude, I promise. Your husband has been harassing me for twenty years because I’ve been begging his sister to marry me since I was nine. I’m sure you can understand my frustrations.” Maya’s features glitter with amusement as she takes his hand in hers. “Congratulations. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“You too.” She laughs before glancing at me. “Sounds like you’re the menace.”

I slip my arm around her waist, tugging her against me as my lips brush her forehead. “I’ve got nothing on you, Maya, baby.”

“It’s actually a family trait. Welcome.” Carter smiles.

Penelope scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I told him I’d marry him after I got my PhD. He’s just impatient.”

“Sounds like you're a girl after my own heart.” Maya laughs.

“Macie will be here in about fifteen minutes to watch the desk, and then we can go get lunch. You guys are more than welcome to take a look around in the meantime, or if you want to rest for a second, you can head to our apartment upstairs.”

Macie is Penelope’s best friend and the gallery’s event coordinator. She’ll sometimes manage operations when Carter is busy, and she’s currently about five months pregnant with her first child. It’ll be interesting to see what kind of kid she pops out, because if my sister is a tabby, Macie is a fucking bob cat, and her husband, Dominic, is just as wild as she is.

Maya crosses her arms, glancing around. “Are all the pieces here for sale? We actually just expanded some of the space in my office, and I’m still trying to decorate. I’ve been meaning to snag some pieces, and I love supporting local artists.”

“I can show you a couple of things.” Penelope smiles, taking my wife’s arm. “What do you do?”

“I own a law firm, Atler and Associates, in San Diego. We specialize in publishing and literary law. Working with authors, mostly.”

“That’s incredible.”

Their voices trail off as Penelope leads Maya through the rest of the gallery. I follow Carter over to the front desk, leaning my elbow against it as I watch them.

“She seems great, Easton. Congratulations,” Carter says, clapping a hand on my back.

“I know. She is.” I smile. “We got damn lucky.”

My eyes flick to him, watching his smolder like embers as he looks after my sister. “Yeah, we did.”