Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
brOOKS
A town car picks us up from the airport, courtesy of the bride’s father. He’s a huge deal around here. A local boy who moved to California, made billions in the tech industry, before selling off his multiple businesses and buying the biggest ranch in the state because he’d always dreamed of being a cowboy.
It’s clear to see why he left the rat race as I glance out of the window to the scenery beyond. It’s breathtaking. Green fields stretch out as far as the eye can see, peppered with glades of forests, the mountains on the distant horizon forming the perfect frame.
I glance at Emma, who was surprisingly quiet on the plane. I put it down to worry about her granddad, who we left happily cataloguing his new books. On our way out he shook my hand and whispered in my ear.
“Take care of my girl. She’s precious to me.”
I don’t know why it touched me, but it did. Maybe because I can’t imagine anybody ever saying that about me. Yes, my brothers and my parents love me. But there are so damn many of us I kind of disappear into the background.
Last year I went on a business trip for two weeks and not a one of them noticed I was gone.
My fake girlfriend is leaning her head against the window, but she’s not looking at the view. Instead, her lips are moving, as though she’s reciting a poem. I lean closer to hear what she’s saying.
“Myles, Liam, Eli, Linc. No, there’s Holden. Myles, Liam, Linc, dammit…”
“Are you reciting my brothers’ names?” I ask her. There’s a weird twist in my stomach.
“I can’t remember them all. I should have written it down,” she looks at me, her eyes wide. I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody with more honest eyes. It’s weird, but it’s true. They’re clear and pretty and I like the way she’s looking at me like I can save her.
“If you wrote it down and somebody saw it they’d know you’re cramming for a reason,” I point out. “And there’s only one good reason.”
“Myles, Liam, Holden… no. Eli,” she chants quietly. “Eli then Holden then… damn, which is the fifth?”
I lift her hand and put it to my lips, to calm her. She blinks and looks at my mouth.
“Everybody forgets my brothers’ names,” I tell her. “And if you like we can just blame it on concussion.”
Truth be told, I was worried I’d hurt her when I barged into her at the shop. If Holden, my doctor brother, had seen me pick her up from the ground without checking for a concussion or broken limbs he would’ve scolded me. But I’d lifted her by instinct. Whenever she’s around I feel this stupid urge to protect her.
And it is stupid, because if there’s any woman in the world that doesn’t need my protection, it’s Emma Robbins.
My lips twitch when I remember how angry she was in the restaurant the other week when she thought I was flirting with the woman asking about my tie. And how bossy she’s been every night when we talk and I admit I haven’t eaten.
I like that she’s worried about my nutrition. Even if it’s just a fake worry for a few weeks. When we’re back, nobody will care again.
That makes my chest feel tight. Because the last couple of weeks of nightly phone calls with this woman have been the highlight of my day.
“Tell me it’s going to be okay,” she says.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“Tell me like you mean it.”
I laugh. It feels natural to put my arm around her, to pull her against me. For a moment she’s as stiff as a board, but then she relaxes. “It’s going to be fine,” I tell her, kissing her brow. Her shampoo smells of some kind of flower. “And if the worst comes to worst, everybody knows I’m an asshole. You can just tell them you’ve finally seen me in my true light and have ended the relationship.”
She turns her head to look at me. “Why would I do that?”
I shrug. “Because that’s what happens to all relationships in the end.”
“All your relationships, maybe.”
I lift a brow. “And this is one of my relationships.” Albeit fake.
“Well I’m not splitting up with you yet,” she says. “So we’d better go through your family again. Myles then Linc…”
“Liam,” I correct.
“Dammit, why couldn’t your dad have fewer children?” she says, looking annoyed with herself.
“A question I ask myself all the time.”
EMMA
“You’re here!” Cassie squeals out, running toward the black town car that picked us up from the airport. From the tarmac, no less. I felt like a princess walking down the airplane stairs and straight through the open car door the driver was holding while the airport staff moved our luggage over.
Cassie’s dad’s ranch doesn’t look like a ranch at all. Not the kind I’ve seen in my imagination, anyway. I was thinking of a white low building with picket fences and cattle grazing. Maybe a cowboy or two.
Instead, her home is an estate with rolling hills and a mountain in the distance. At the center of the land – which we’ve been driving through for at least twenty minutes, the house rises from the grass as though it’s organically grown. It’s set on top of a series of terraces, surrounded by trees. Built of yellow stone, with gray slate roofs – yes, roofs – there are two round towers at the center that make you feel like you’ve entered some kind of old world fairyland.
She yanks open the door and pulls me out, enveloping me in her arms. “I’m so happy you came.”
Brooks walks toward us, carrying my purse. I’m still getting used to him being nice to me. I’m actually enjoying it, even if it is all pretend.
“We’ve got a lot to catch up on,” she whispers in my ear.
“Hi Brooks,” she says, holding her hand out to him. He shakes it and then she turns her attention back to me. “So, most of our guests are already here. They’ve gone out on a cattle drive today. Which gives me a chance to show you around before we all have to meet for dinner. Are you hungry? I can get some food for you if you’d like?”
“No, I’m fine.” I smile at her, because somehow she’s making everything so much easier. “How about you?” I ask Brooks.
He gives Cassie the sweetest smile. “I’m good, too.” He slides his arm around my waist and it makes me jump. Cassie looks from him to me with a quizzical expression on her face.
“Okay then,” she says, still taking us in. “Are you okay?” she asks Brooks. “You seem… different.” And we both know she means he isn’t being his usual brooding self.
“Ignore him,” I tell her. “He smashed his head on a table when we went through some turbulence. It put him in a good mood.” I turn and kiss his cheek. “You can be yourself,” I whisper in his ear. It feels good to be the one who isn’t messing things up for once.
“This is me being myself.”
We follow Cassie through the archway to the double oversized front doors, which actually have studs on them like they belong on a medieval castle. Without her saying anything, or pushing anything, they open, and it’s only when we walk inside that I see a man standing behind them.
“Thanks, Sam,” she says, and she takes my hand and squeezes it. Brooks’ phone rings and he mutters a low oath.
“Sorry, I need to take this,” he tells me. “I’ll just go outside.”
“It’s hot out there,” Cassie tells him, as though we both didn’t already feel the blast of sun as we walked from the car to the house. “Sam, can you show Brooks to the library? He can take the call there.”
“Of course.”
I watch as the two men disappear, then Cassie slides her arm through mine. “Oh, my God. Brooks Salinger?” she says, her eyes widening. “And he’s smiling. How did that happen?”
My heart races. This is it. I haven’t had to lie to a friend before. “We met at Mia’s wedding. And then his company bought the building that we lease to run my granddad’s shop. It’s a long story, but… here we are.” I force a smile on my face, trying to look in love, but I think I just look weird because Cassie’s brows knit together.
“Tell me,” she says, leading me into a huge living room complete with overstuffed leather sofas, a fireplace that a family of four could comfortably live inside, and chandeliers – in the plural – made from what look like deer antlers, “how did you get him to smile? Is it the sex? Did you do it on the airplane?”
Here we go. I can’t wait to tell Brooks I’m already getting asked about sex with him. This is the reason I needed to know all his gory preferences. “No,” I say as she points out a couple of paintings by artists I probably should have heard of, plus a Georgia O’Keefe I definitely have heard of. “He slept most of the way.” It turns out he went to the office before coming to pick me up, hence the suit. Some kind of meeting with a company in Europe. I hate to think about what time he got up this morning.
“He’s so handsome,” she says. “And smart.” She pulls me against her. “And I can’t begin to tell you how angry Will looked when I mentioned you two would be coming to the wedding together.”
“He’s here?” I ask. Funny thing is, I’d almost forgotten about him. In the past few weeks of getting to know Brooks and worrying about the shop, he’s become unimportant in my mind.
Truth is, I’d forgotten why we were pretending at all. Maybe I’d even forgotten we were pretending.
But it’s all flooding back now. The memory of the last wedding, the phone call I had with Jemima. I let out a long breath.
“Don’t worry, I gave him and Jemima the worst room,” she tells me. “I wouldn’t have invited him at all, but his dad and mine go way back.” She wrinkles her nose and squeezes my arm again. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.”
The next room is the dining room, which is connected to the living room by an ornamental arch. I try to count the chairs around the table but give up at twenty. At the end of the room is an ancient-looking door, and when she opens it there are stairs. “My dad’s wine collection is down there,” she tells me. “Minus the bottles we’ll be using for the wedding.”
She takes me on a whirlwind tour of the place, and although we miss out on the entire upper floor where the family and their relations will stay, it still takes almost an hour before we’re walking outside. At the back of the building are a series of landscaped waterfalls. The sound of the water hitting the surface of each pool is strangely relaxing.
“Okay, and the best bit. See over there?” she says, pointing to her right. I squint my eyes and follow the direction of her finger. “That’s where you’ll be staying.”
There are a series of what look like white buildings. But as I look closer I can see they’re not buildings. They’re tents.
“Aren’t they gorgeous?” she says, clapping her hands. “Daddy paid a company to install a hundred yurts. He was moaning because if he hadn’t had such short notice for the wedding he could have built a little village. He’s kind of grumpy about that.”
“A village?” What is he, some kind of medieval duke? Wait, did they even have dukes in medieval days? I file that thought away, because I don’t have time to follow it down the rabbit hole.
She shrugs. “He has way too much money and too little sense. But listen, the yurts are gorgeous, I promise. They have proper beds and bathrooms. They’re like being in a hotel room, but also in a tent.” She rolls her lip between her teeth. “Will and Jemima are staying in the house.” She lowers her voice. “But if it makes you feel any better I put them in the servant’s quarters, so you don’t have to worry about bumping into them down there. The yurt village is full of the coolest people. And there’s a hospitality tent and a band playing every night up to the wedding.”
“Where is the ceremony taking place?” I ask her. Because as beautiful – and as huge – as her family home is, there is no sign of decorations.
“Over there,” she says, pointing in the other direction. “Daddy had time to build a series of barns, at least. We’ll be taking everybody in wagons and on horses. He insisted.”
I can barely see the buildings, they’re so far away. But I take her word that they’re big enough to host a wedding of this size. At the last count she said she had over six hundred guests.
“Come on, let’s get you over to your yurt and settled,” she says as we walk back into the house. When we make it to the hallway – another minute of walking later – Brooks is standing there, leaning against the wall. “Tonight we’re all having dinner by the lake. A huge barbecue. Then tomorrow the girls and boys separate for our bachelor and bachelorette parties. And on Saturday we have the ceremony.”
At the sound of our heels clicking against the tiled floor he looks up, Brooks’ gaze catches mine. He rolled up his sleeves, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Slowly he pulls them out and walks over to us.
“How was the tour?” he asks, his voice low. He takes my hand and brushes his lips against my cheek, whispering in my ear. “You need to check your messages,” he tells me.
I hadn’t even thought to turn on my phone. And now I feel bad because I should have called Granddad as soon as we landed. But my mind was on other things.
“Okay.” I nod, trying to give him the sweetest smile, even though he’s turned back into grumpy Brooks.
“If you’d like to follow me, one of our ranch hands will take you down to your accommodation,” Sam says, appearing from what feels like nowhere to open the door. “Cassie, your mother is looking for you.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Damn, I guess I can’t avoid her forever. She has this real bee in her bonnet about the way I want to arrive at the ceremony.” She leans forward and kisses my cheek. “You and Brooks settle in.” She winks. “The beds in those yurts are super comfy. Don’t ask me how I know.”