Page 54 of Strictly Pretend

Oh. He was looking for bugs. Not the insect ones, the hearing ones. What kind of security operation does he think Cassie’s dad is running? They can’t listen in on everybody. It would take an army of spies.

I open my mouth to point that out to him, but this man can already read me like a book. He lets out an annoyed grunt and before I can utter a word he puts his mouth against mine.

If his embrace was awkward, his mouth is pure heaven. So soft, yet firm. Demanding, yet giving. He deepens the kiss and I pretty much melt against him as his hand slides down my back and into the dip between my spine and my ass.

When we part, I’m dizzy and I can’t remember at all what I was supposed to be saying.

And of course, his smirk is about a mile wide. It annoys me.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he says. “I couldn’t help myself. You’re beautiful.”

I roll my eyes at him. And then I take out my phone and pull up my notes app, because there’s no point in sending a text to him. I jab my finger on the screen to write out the message and pass it over to him.

There’s no way anybody is listening. There are a hundred tents here. Plus all the guests staying at themain ranch and in the barns. Cassie’s dad would need about five hundred spies to listen in on everybody.

Brooks looks at my screen and sighs. I swear the man sighs more than anybody I’ve ever met.

He doesn’t need an army. They’ll use AI to do the initial screening, and only the ones that seem abnormal will be escalated. You know, like people conspiring to lie.

He hands the phone back to me. I read it, my jaw tight.

Isn’t it illegal to record us without our consent?I tap out.

He takes my phone again.Did you sign the waiver that got sent out with the invitation?

I blink.I’m not sure.

He lifts a brow.Well I did, and I’m pretty sure I gave my consent to audio recording. And since this is a one-party state, that consent covers both of us when we’re talking.

So they could record us having sex and that would be okay?I tap out. I’m feeling annoyed.

Isn’t that a moot point?He types out.

Well yes. But they don’t know that.I lift my eyes to his before typing again.And at least then somebody would find out what you sound like when you come.

His gaze lingers on my phone screen before he hands it back to me, no reply written. He lifts his eyes to mine and grins. I roll my eyes back at him. Not being able to speak to him – at least about the most important thing going on in my life right now – is excruciating.

I never realized how much I used conversation to work out my emotions.

“Who were you talking to on the phone earlier?” I ask, just because the silence is getting to me. Anyway, if somebody islistening in, it would be normal to have a conversation about that.

“My brother.”

“Which one?” I ask, walking over to the bed and pushing down on it, because I want to test out just how firm the mattress is.

“Myles. The oldest. He wanted to discuss a business transaction,” he tells me, walking over and standing next to me. He runs his hand along my side, and it sends a shiver down my spine before I realize he’s looking for my phone again.

He slides it out from the little pocket in my yoga pants and holds it out for me to unlock it with my face before he opens the notes app again.

“Is he the handsome one?” I ask, mostly because I want to see his reaction. One night when we were exchanging details of our lives he sent me a photo of him with his five brothers. They’re all stupidly handsome, but I’m enjoying riling him.

“If you like that kind of thing.”

“Well, he looks like you, so of course I like that kind of thing,” I say, my voice flirty. Brooks blinks, but doesn’t reply. Instead, he holds out my phone screen.

Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the floor.

“I can’t wait to curl up with you in this bed,” I say, my voice husky. “Oh, the things I plan to do with you.”

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