Page 79 of Blitzing Emily

She let out a groan. “No. I wanna sleep.” She pulled the pillow over her head. He took it away from her.

“If we go now, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“AaaaaAAAAGH.” This time, Emily pulled the blankets over her head. Her chances were better of escaping detection this way. Actually, it would be moments before Brandon tore off the blankets, too, but a girl could dream.

He let out a laugh. “We’re playing the pillow game today.”

“Why do you have to be so cheerful when you wake up?” she complained.

“Because you’re not.”

“Please tell me you have a hangover,” she moaned. His typically sunny outlook was adorable. Well, it was sweet after tenAM.The rest of the time, it was annoying.

“Hell, no. Don’t make me haul your pretty little ass out of bed.”

“Let’s snuggle for a while instead.”

He pushed her hair aside, and kissed the back of her neck. His lips lingered on one of the more sensitive spots of Emily’s body. “We can stay in bed all day if you’d like.”

“Mmm,” Emily purred. He pulled her closer. Finally they were alone, and they were about to get naked.

The bedroom door flew open, hitting the wall with a bang.

“Hey, McKenna. Top Pot says ‘hi.’” Greg shoved a paper tray with two cups of coffee and a box of doughnuts onto Brandon’s dresser. “Breakfast in bed, guy.” He nodded at Emily. “Hey, Em.”

“Hey,” she said weakly, and pulled the blankets up over her head again.

ICICLECREEK WASlocated ninety minutes east of Seattle, and just outside of Leavenworth, WA, a small town with Tyrolean flair. Brandon had promised Emily an “easy hike,” but his idea of an easy hike would probably incapacitate the average woman. They’d walked for a couple of hours already. Despite working out five days a week, Emily was getting tired. Her steps slowed. She pulled the water bottle off her belt, and took a swallow.

As they hiked, Brandon was still musing over the beatdown he was going to give Greg at his earliest convenience. He couldn’t actually hit him. Maybe he’d just get Greg in a headlock, or tell his girlfriend about last year’s road trip to Tampa Bay. Greg seemed unfamiliar with basic Man Code: Stay out of another guy’s room without knocking first.

Above all, his house wasn’t a frat.

If that wasn’t bad enough, Brandon was currently feeling the most intense sexual frustration he could remember since he was sixteen and got caught messing around with his junior prom date in the guys’ locker room. If he’d waited till later in the evening, things might have gone better for everyone concerned. Then again, he’d seen Missy at a few school reunions since. She didn’t seem mad about it.

The whole pretend engagement thing had him thinking; only an asshole would seduce a woman he didn’t really have a relationship with. When he and Emily first met, it was a business thing. Somewhere along the way, they’d abandoned “pretend” and went straight for “let’s give it a try.” Their relationship—and they sure as hell had one now—started slowly. The physical side took time, too. Emily’s ex had done such a number on her that at first she had jumped every time he touched her. In other words, he was all for casual sex, but this was something more. Plus, he really liked Emily. Nailing a woman for the sheer enjoyment of it was poor form. Well, unless she wanted him to. He was fairly positive she wanted him to, after last night’s fun in the shower.

If Greg hadn’t come busting into his bedroom right about the time Brandon felt Emily rubbing up against his junk this morning, it wouldn’t be an issue. They would have spent the day in bed, and his frustration would be gone.

He hadn’t spent time with anyone he was more interested in. If he was really honest with himself, he didn’t think he’d meet anyone he’d be more interested in again.

“Asshole,” he muttered to himself.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” He spotted a clearing off the path. “Hey, let’s rest for a minute.” He pulled a blanket from his backpack, spread it out, and dropped onto it. He pulled his smart phone out of his shorts pocket, noted he had coverage, and dashed off a text to Greg: YOU’RE AT YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S TONIGHT.

“Please tell me you’re tired.”

“Hell, no. I could go another five miles. It’s a gorgeous day and we’re out here all alone ...” His voice trailed off. It was one of those rarities in Washington—several days of over-seventy degree weather in May, and he could take advantage of the situation.

He turned to Emily, quirking a brow. “Ever been skinny dipping?” She looked alarmed, and he tried to smother his laughter.

She scooted away from him. “No. No, no, no. We have no towels,” she argued. “The water’s cold. I don’t think this is a good idea ...”

He reached over and untied her hiking boots. She half-heartedly pushed his hands away, which made him laugh even more. Emily pretended to be upset, but he saw the flush slowly climbing her cheeks. She was more shy than fearful.

“Are you scared, little diva?”

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