Page 66 of Strictly Pretend

“That’s a good idea,” Cassie says. “We start early tomorrow. One last breakfast together and then the rituals begin.” She grins at me. “Are you going to be able to stay away from her for a whole day?”

“Probably not,” I say. But maybe it’ll be a good thing. I can’t think properly when she’s around. Or rather, I linger on all the wrong thoughts. Ones that make me feel like I need to carry her out of here to somewhere where she’ll be safe.

The only place she’ll be safe is far away from you.

Shifting Emma in my arms, I stand up and lift her body against mine. Her eyelids flutter open and her gaze catches mine.

“Go back to sleep,” I murmur. “Everything’s fine.”

To my amazement she does. It doesn’t escape me that the only time Emma Robbins actually listens to me is when she’s unconscious.

“Goodnight,” I whisper to Mia and Cassie, all too aware of Will’s scrutiny as I carry Emma out of the firepit area and into the woods. It’s a short walk to our yurt, thank god, but I’m still covered in sweat by the time we get there.

“Brooks?” she mumbles against my chest as I put her down to find the key, one arm still around her, holding her against me.

“I’m here. Everything’s fine. Let’s just get you to bed.”

“Usto bed,” she mutters. “There’s only one.”

Yeah, there is. But damned if I’m sharing it with her. I’m already at the front of the line for Asshole of the Year. I’m hoping not to make it Asshole of the Century.

EMMA

Light is streaming through the white canvas when I wake up the next morning. Letting out a groan – because my mouth feels drier than the desert – I roll over on the mattress and squeeze my eyes shut again, because this mattress really is quite comfortable and I don’t want to move.

“Good morning.”

When I look up, Brooks is standing by the side of the bed, a glass of water in one hand. The other is palm-up, with two little pills at the center.

“Arsenic?” I ask him, looking at them carefully.

“Close.” His lips twitch. “Swallow them down and I promise all the pain will go away.”

I take them, although there’s only a hint of a headache at my temple. Because today is going to be nonstop and I don’t need any hangover from last night to slow me down. It’s my own stupid fault. I so rarely drink, and those wine glasses were huge.

Ugh, last night. It all comes flooding back to me. Cassie’s arrival at the firepit, her knowing Brooks and I got engaged. And then…

“Wait,” I say, holding my hand up to him. “How did I get to bed?”

He quirks a brow. “You don’t remember falling asleep on me around the fire?”

I shake my head.

“Or you begging me to take you to bed.”

“I don’t beg. And I didn’t.”

He grins. “No you didn’t. I carried you back. You slept through the whole ordeal.”

That explains the dry-as-a-desert mouth. I obviously didn’t brush my teeth. That fact irks me. I’m super fastidious about dental hygiene. And then I realize something else. I’m not wearing the dress I put on for the barbecue last night.

Slowly, I lift the covers and peek underneath. My bra and panties are still on my body. I’m not sure whether or not to be relieved.

“Tell me I undressed myself in my sleep,” I say.

“You undressed yourself in your sleep.” I swear he’s enjoying this.

“Liar.”

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