Page 114 of Strictly Pretend

“Emma,” Rupert says. “Thank you for coming. And before you come in, I’d like to apologize for all you and your grandfather have been put through.”

My throat tightens. “It’s okay,” I tell him. And weirdly enough, it is. I’ve already gotten over it. “My granddad says thank you for the fruit basket you sent.”

“He called me to thank me, too,” Rupert says. “He’s a good man.” He gives me another nod. “And very proud of you, as he should be.”

Brooks presses his hand against my back.

“I appreciate that,” I tell him. “That means a lot.”

“Now please come in. Are you hungry? There’s some food in the kitchen. Tonight we’ll all have dinner together. Get to know you.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Brooks kisses my brow. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”

“Are you going down to the cabin?” Rupert asks.

“Yeah,” Brooks says. “But I want to show something to Emma first.”

I look up at him, intrigued. “What do you want to show me?”

“You’ll see.” He takes my hand, a huge smile on his face, as he leads me into the house and down a hallway. At the end I can see the kitchen, stretching out across the back of the house. There has to be at least twenty people in there, but it’s still not full.

“In here,” he murmurs, opening a door.

And when I look inside my breath catches.

It’s a library. But not any old library. It’s huge. Bigger than the one in Cassie’s dad’s house. You could hold a dance in here ifyou wanted. But even better, it’s two stories, with a Beauty-and-the-Beast ladder on rails that covers all four walls.

With his hand still in mine, Brooks leads me to that ladder. “Climb up.”

“Is this some kind of kinky sex thing?” I ask. “Because I’ve always dreamed of library sex.”

He grins. “No. Though I like the way you think. But since my whole family is about twenty feet away, I think I’ll save that for another time.” He puts my hand on the rail and has me climb up so my feet are on the second rung, my body facing the ladder.

“You holding on?” he asks.

“Um, yes?”

And then he pulls the damn ladder along the rail like it’s a fairground attraction. I cling onto it, the air wooshing past my face as we move.

“Here,” he murmurs, stopping.

I look at the shelves of books in front of me. They’re all in pristine condition. Bound in a dark navy leather. God only knows how much the binding on all of them must have cost.

“Granddad would love this place,” I tell him.

I feel Brooks climb on behind me, his front pressing against my back. “Choose a book,” he says.

“Why?” I’m completely confused.

He kisses my neck. “Because I want you to.”

His breath against my skin makes me shiver. “You’re such a sweet talker. You know books are my love language.”

“They’re in alphabetical order,” he tells me. “We’re at the Rs.”

“I’m a huge fan of Christina Rosetti,” I say, reaching for the book.

---