Page 113 of Strictly Pretend

It’s a twenty minute drive to his father’s estate. Brooks is driving a sports car that belongs to his brother Liam, whoapparently needed some persuading before allowing Brooks to borrow it to pick me up.

“Are they all at the cabins?” I ask him. He’s explained that although his dad, stepmother, and his sister live in the main house, along with his mom and his other stepmom when they visit, the brothers each have a cabin. They got to design and build them when they were teens.

Apparently each one is different. Some of them have had additions built on since his brothers have started having kids.

“Speaking of which, I told them all,” he says. “About me not being able to have kids.”

“How did they take it?” I ask him, knowing he’d only confided in Linc before.

“Honestly? They were fine. Eli started telling me that adopting was the best thing he ever did. Myles explained that his wife was planning on doing IVF before they met. I had to make them all promise not to mention babies in front of you, because they’re so fucking over the top in their problem solving they’re gonna scare you off.”

“Areyouscared off?” I ask him.

His eyes catch mine as we drive through a huge pair of wrought iron gates. “Never. I told them it’s still early. We’ll decide whether we want kids in the future. Right now I just need to get you to agree to marry me again.”

“We never got married in the first place,” I point out.

“Yeah, but you agreed to it. That’s the again I’m talking about.”

I can’t hide the smile on my face as we round the corner and I get the first glimpse of the house. It’s huge, more of a mansion than a home, set on top of one of the tallest hills in the estate. There are trees and lakes everywhere.

“I can’t believe you’re this rich,” I tell him.

“I’m not. My father is.”

I bite down a smile, because I know this man is rich in his own right. I also know that I couldn’t give a damn about it.

We pull onto the sweeping driveway that curves around the front of the house. Spotting somebody on the front steps, Brooks deliberately locks the steering wheel to the left and does a handbrake turn to park the car, the wheels squealing against the blacktop.

“For God’s sake slow down,” the person on the steps shouts out.

“Is that Liam, by chance?” I ask.

Brooks grins. “He loves this car more than he loves life.”

“I’ll never understand the brotherly relationship.” I shake my head.

“Imagine Romulus and Remus fighting to the death,” Brooks says, turning the engine off and walking around to help me out. "Then times that by three. That’s pretty much our relationship.”

But as soon as we walk up the steps to the house I can tell that’s not true. We’re surrounded by a huge crowd of people. His brothers, their wives, and their children all run at us, hugging us both and saying their names – names I know I’ll never remember. In the doorway are three women and a man.

“Emma, this is my mom, Deandra,” Brooks says, pointing at the first woman, her blonde hair perfectly styled.

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” Deandra says, hugging me.

“And this is Linda, kind of my second mom.”

“I love your hair,” Linda says, kissing my cheek. “I used to dye my hair that red when I was younger.”

“And this is my dad, Rupert, and his wife, Julia.”

Julia kisses my other cheek, then the three women walk inside, leaving us alone with Rupert Salinger.

He’s as tall as Brooks, and although he has to be at least seventy, his grip is strong as he reaches out to shake my hand.The resemblance between him and his sons is striking, though his hair is mostly gray compared to their dark locks.

It’s like getting a glimpse of how Brooks will look in forty years.

Not bad at all.

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