Page 67 of Strictly Pretend

He holds his hands up as though in surrender. “I’m just telling you what you asked me to. And try not to get too worked up. We’re engaged, remember? I’m allowed to undress you.” He emphasizes the last part, and I wince, because of course we’re supposed to be acting like we’re stupidly in love.

I sigh and reach for my phone, which is plugged into its charger. God, this man can be perfect when he’s not being annoying. Bringing up our chat, I type out a message to him.

Thank you for taking care of me. – Emma

A smile ghosts his lips as he reads it. He must have already showered. His hair is damp and I can smell the woody notes of his shower gel.

You’re welcome. We have about half an hour before we’re due up to the house. You ready for it? – Brooks

Truthfully? Not really.

Can’t wait. Can I ask you something? Did you sleep with me last night? – Emma

He frowns as he reads this last message, and I decide I much prefer his smile.

Sleep with you as in sex? Or sleep with you as in close my eyes and lay next to you? – Brooks

My cheeks flush as I read. I look at him. His expression is unreadable.

I meant did we share a bed? – Emma.

No. We didn’t sleep together in any way, shape or form. You did, however, drool on me all night by the fireplace. Those are the only fluids we exchanged. – Brooks

It’s my turn to frown.

I don’t drool! – Emma

My shirt says you do. – Brooks

How mortifying. But now he’s smiling again and damn, I like that too much. I’m stupidly grateful to him, not only for being so sweet yesterday, but for reassuring me.

“Take a shower,” Brooks tells me out loud, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “I’m going to head out and hunt us down some coffee.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best fiancé ever?” Because coffee sounds like the most perfect thing in my life right now.

“No, but feel free to say it again,” he tells me, walking to the door of the yurt and pulling it open.

“You’re the best!” I shout at his departing form. And though he doesn’t turn around before he closes the door behind him, I swear I see his shoulders shake with a chuckle.

Everybody has gathered in front of the ranch house by the time we arrive. There are three executive coaches lined up in the drive, as well as some white vans with ‘So Sweet Spas’ writtenacross their sides in pink cursive. Brooks is holding my hand as we approach our friends. Weirdly, he’s been holding it since we left the yurt.

Maybe he’s worried I’m going to run back there and hide.

The spa is for the bachelorettes. Cassie’s dad has a swimming pool on the property, and the pool house – which is bigger than most people’s primary residences – has been converted into a treatment room for the day.

The guys are heading off to a vineyard for some wine tasting, followed by an afternoon at the casino. Brooks looks as excited for that as I feel about lying by the pool and gossiping all day.

From the corner of my eye I see Will standing with a group of friends. There’s no sign of Jemima. Maybe she’s stayed in bed. That would be nice.

“You going to be okay without me?” Brooks asks, his voice low.

“I’m not sure,” I tease. “Getting a back and neck massage will be a struggle. Pray for me.”

He looks over at Will, who’s still glaring in our direction. Then back at me again. Before I can say anything more, he cups my face with his warm palms and angles his head down until his lips are a breath away from mine.

I run my tongue along my bottom lip, because I’m almost certain he’s going to kiss me again and despite brushing my teeth for what felt like half an hour after my shower I’m still not certain I’m kissable. He lifts a brow, as though asking me if this is okay, which is weird, because yesterday we did more than kiss.

Still, I nod and he closes the gap between our mouths, the pressure of his lips soft against mine. He slides his fingers into my hair, angling my face to his, his tongue dancing at the seam of my lips until I open them and he slides it against mine.

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