Page 27 of Strictly Pretend

Now he’s in bed by ten. And I’ve never seen him happier.

“I don’t exactly have the equipment to feed your kid,” I tell him. “But nice try.”

He rolls his eyes. “We’re weaning her. There’s food on her high chair.”

“Weaning? What the hell is that? Making her smaller, like a weenie?”

“Jesus Christ,” Linc mutters. “Just give her some damn carrots.”

Abigail looks up at me, a line of drool hanging out of her mouth. The end is attached to my suit jacket.

“Come on, kid,” I tell her. “Let’s go make you a weenie.”

“I heard that. My daughter is not a weenie.”

“Just like your dad,” I add.

A few minutes later, I’m sitting in front of my niece as she throws her food on the floor, laughing every time I reach down to pick it up. Because my brother’s a childcare genius he’s put her highchair on a clean mat, which means the five second rule absolutely applies here.

“So I went down to the bookshop to try to talk sense into the owners. And I ended up offering to take her to the wedding in Montana with me,” I say casually.

“Run that by me again,” Linc says, taking a pair of tiny white panties from the basket.

“Those yours?” I ask him.

“Funny. No.” He puts them to the side. “They’re ladies’ panties. Not that you’ve seen a pair in a long, long time.”

I roll my eyes at him. “I wasn’t planning on ever seeing Tessa’s.”

He blinks, then shoves her panties under the pile of clean laundry. “Stop looking at my wife’s lingerie.”

“Stop flaunting it at me.”

“I’m not…” He narrows his eyes. “Oh I know what you’re doing here. You’re trying to distract me. Stop me from asking about this date.”

“I’m the one who mentioned it in the first place,” I point out. “So no, I’m not.”

He looks torn between berating me some more for even daring to look at a clean pair of underwear and finding out the gossip.

Because if there’s one thing Linc loves, it’s gossip.

“Who’s the date?” he asks. “No, sweetie,” he takes a knife out of Rowan’s hand without stopping folding. He’s an excellent multitasker.

“The girl from the bookshop.”

“Okay, what? How? I thought she hated you.”

“She did. She does, I think. But we came to an agreement that can benefit us both.”

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to backtrack here. I’m completely confused.” Rowan is standing at his feet, holding his hands up, clearly wanting to be held. Linc lifts him up and settles him on his hip, using his free hand to continue folding.

Honestly, if he hadn’t been a confirmed bachelor for most of his life, I’d say my brother was born to be a househusband.

While he finishes the laundry, I quickly fill him in on my trip to Oak Hollow and coffee with Emma. Linc’s brows knit as I finish.

“So this is the girl from the wedding? The one you saved from her asshole boyfriend.”

“Yeah. What are the chances?” I say.

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