Page 95 of Strictly Pretend

“Excellent,” I tell her, grinning. “Because all this whiskey drinking is exhausting.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

EMMA

The driver lifts my case out of the trunk and wheels it over to me. “Where would you like me to put this?” he asks, eyeing the bookshop. It’s closed, which isn’t a surprise because it’s Sunday afternoon and we don’t open on Sundays. But I know for a fact that Granddad is inside and I want to see him.

“It’s okay, I’ve got it.” I pause a moment. Am I supposed to tip him? I know I can’t pay him because Brooks made it very clear that I can’t pay for anything. “Thank you.”

He gives me a nod. “You’re very welcome. Have a pleasant day, Miss Robbins.” He turns and walks back to the car – a black sedan with funky tinted windows. I felt like a superstar sitting in the back.

Or as much of a superstar as you can feel when your heart is kind of aching because you’ve just spent the most glorious few days with somebody who feels like they could be your future.

“It’s only me,” I call out as I let myself into the shop. Taking a deep breath in, I inhale the mustiness, the aroma of old paper. The feeling of home. “Are you at the back?”

Granddad appears at the doorway to the storage area. He looks tired. And small, which is silly because he didn’t get shorter in the last few days.

“Emma,” he says, holding his arms out. I run into them and he hugs me tight and for a minute I’m thirteen again.

“How are you?” I ask him. “You’ve been taking it easy, right?”

“Didn’t have a choice,” he mutters. “You did all the work before you left.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out to see Brooks’ name on the screen.

Tell me again why you’re not with me? I miss you. – B

A smile pulls at my lips. He moaned the entire flight back about how he had to go straight to Virginia and I had to come here. I kind of liked it. Because I felt the same way.

Because we’re grown ups and we have work to do. I’ll see you on Wednesday. – E

He’s already told me he’s coming to stay with me on Wednesday night. Even though my apartment is tiny and from looking at the photographs of his place it’s huge. Apparently, his Manhattan apartment belongs to his family’s real estate business. His brother, Linc, used to live there, but he moved out after he and his wife had their second child and they needed somewhere bigger – so they bought a new house together. And Brooks moved into the apartment.

“Did you have a nice time?” Granddad asks. “How was the yurt?”

“Very nice.” A memory of Brooks in the yurt last night flashes through my mind. As soon as we walked through the door he dropped to his knees and pushed my dress up around my hips, tearing my panties off before eating me like he was the hungriest man on earth.

My cheeks pink up at the thought of it. I’m pretty sure that’s not what Granddad means when he asks if I had a nice time.

It was,verynice though.

“You seem different,” Granddad says.

“Do I?” I look away, because now I’m thinking about how Brooks bent me over in the shower this morning. Is this what it’s like to be a man? Having inappropriate thoughts left, right, and center?

I never thought I’d feel sorry for them.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Granddad’s voice is suddenly deep.

Dear God, does he want me to go through every move Brooks made on me?

“Um, no?” I say, though it comes out as a question. Granddad grabs my hand – my left hand – and holds it up.

And then I realize I’m still wearing the ring. I’d forgotten it was there.

“What’s this?” he asks.

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