Page 48 of Strictly Pretend

“Real mature,” he says. But he’s smiling, anyway.

CHAPTER

TWELVE

BROOKS

A town car picks us up from the airport, courtesy of the bride’s father. He’s a huge deal around here. A local boy who moved to California, made billions in the tech industry, before selling off his multiple businesses and buying the biggest ranch in the state because he’d always dreamed of being a cowboy.

It’s clear to see why he left the rat race as I glance out of the window to the scenery beyond. It’s breathtaking. Green fields stretch out as far as the eye can see, peppered with glades of forests, the mountains on the distant horizon forming the perfect frame.

I glance at Emma, who was surprisingly quiet on the plane. I put it down to worry about her granddad, who we left happily cataloguing his new books. On our way out he shook my hand and whispered in my ear.

“Take care of my girl. She’s precious to me.”

I don’t know why it touched me, but it did. Maybe because I can’t imagine anybody ever saying that about me. Yes, my brothers and my parents love me. But there are so damn many of us I kind of disappear into the background.

Last year I went on a business trip for two weeks and not a one of them noticed I was gone.

My fake girlfriend is leaning her head against the window, but she’s not looking at the view. Instead, her lips are moving, as though she’s reciting a poem. I lean closer to hear what she’s saying.

“Myles, Liam, Eli, Linc. No, there’s Holden. Myles, Liam, Linc, dammit…”

“Are you reciting my brothers’ names?” I ask her. There’s a weird twist in my stomach.

“I can’t remember them all. I should have written it down,” she looks at me, her eyes wide. I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody with more honest eyes. It’s weird, but it’s true. They’re clear and pretty and I like the way she’s looking at me like I can save her.

“If you wrote it down and somebody saw it they’d know you’re cramming for a reason,” I point out. “And there’s only one good reason.”

“Myles, Liam, Holden… no. Eli,” she chants quietly. “Eli then Holden then… damn, which is the fifth?”

I lift her hand and put it to my lips, to calm her. She blinks and looks at my mouth.

“Everybody forgets my brothers’ names,” I tell her. “And if you like we can just blame it on concussion.”

Truth be told, I was worried I’d hurt her when I barged into her at the shop. If Holden, my doctor brother, had seen me pick her up from the ground without checking for a concussion or broken limbs he would’ve scolded me. But I’d lifted her by instinct. Whenever she’s around I feel this stupid urge to protect her.

And it is stupid, because if there’s any woman in the world that doesn’t need my protection, it’s Emma Robbins.

My lips twitch when I remember how angry she was in the restaurant the other week when she thought I was flirting with the woman asking about my tie. And how bossy she’s been every night when we talk and I admit I haven’t eaten.

I like that she’s worried about my nutrition. Even if it’s just a fake worry for a few weeks. When we’re back, nobody will care again.

That makes my chest feel tight. Because the last couple of weeks of nightly phone calls with this woman have been the highlight of my day.

“Tell me it’s going to be okay,” she says.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“Tell me like you mean it.”

I laugh. It feels natural to put my arm around her, to pull her against me. For a moment she’s as stiff as a board, but then she relaxes. “It’s going to be fine,” I tell her, kissing her brow. Her shampoo smells of some kind of flower. “And if the worst comes to worst, everybody knows I’m an asshole. You can just tell them you’ve finally seen me in my true light and have ended the relationship.”

She turns her head to look at me. “Why would I do that?”

I shrug. “Because that’s what happens to all relationships in the end.”

“All your relationships, maybe.”

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