Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
EMMA
As soon as Cassie heads to find her mom, Sam takes us to our transport, which turns out to be a horse and cart, which is basically comprised of a wooden platform with bench seats attached, and four huge black wheels with spokes bigger than my legs. At the front, harnessed up is a beautifully haughty white horse who bares his teeth at us as we walk past him.
Holding him is our driver, who introduces himself as Tex, because apparently he was born in Texas.
“Don’t mind him,” Tex drawls, shaking his head at the horse who’s still looking at us as though we’re the worst things he’s ever seen. “He’s pissed because I woke him up.”
“He reminds me of you,” I say to Brooks as he helps me onto the carriage.
“Funny, I was going to say the same thing.”
There’s no elegant way to climb into a carriage. I clamber up, landing on my knees, then climb onto the bench, thanking the gods of clothing that I wore yoga pants to travel in and not – say – a mini skirt.
Brooks has the benefit of long legs and stupidly muscular arms, and even though he’s in a suit he looks annoyingly elegant as he takes the seat next to me.
“Giddy up,” Tex says, shaking the reins.
“Do people really say that?” I whisper to Brooks.
“Clearly.” He reaches across me, and for one moment I think he might throw me out of the carriage. He seems annoyed about something, and there’s a huge likelihood it’s got everything to do with me. But instead of launching me over the side into the Montana sagebrush, he pulls my phone out of my purse and hands it to me.
“Read your messages,” he mouths.
I widen my eyes at him. All right, already. I still take my time unlocking my screen and opening the message app, mostly because he’s easily riled and I’m kind of liking the way he sighs at my slowness. But when I look at our stream of messages, the ones we’ve been exchanging in the past few weeks of ‘getting to know you boot camp’ I see there are two long new ones from him.
Sam told me that there are cameras and listening devices everywhere. Cassie’s dad is a tech genius and completely paranoid and thinks the wedding might be infiltrated by spies. He’s not taking any chances with security. I asked about the yurts – pretending that we’re intending to have intimate relations – and he said they aren’t monitored, but I’m not sure I believe him. Do not, I repeat DO NOT speak about our arrangement to anybody. – Brooks
I lift an eye at him. His lips are pressed tightly shut. He points at the second message that he sent ten minutes later. I assume after stewing on the information he’d received and the fact I hadn’t replied. Another sigh escapes his lips so I read it.
Here’s what we need to do. For the next seventy-two hours we’re a couple. A real one. No breaks from pretending, no talking to each other about it, no getting annoyed or asking for permission to touch each other. In fact, there’s no pretending at all. This is real. You’re mine, I’m yours. If we want other people to believe it, we have to believe it. I need you to reply and say yes, and then it’s on. – Brooks
I blink at his message. It’s on. What does that even mean? I can feel the heat of his scowl as he’s watching me read. The man can’t even smile at me. What chance does he have of making everybody believe he’s in love with me?
I have questions. – Emma
He doesn’t take his own phone out. Just takes mine from me and replies.
Type them all out. I’ll answer them as best I can. But don’t say them out loud.
“Hey, want to see something cool?” Tex asks. I’d completely forgotten he was there. While I’ve been staring at the phone he’s been driving us along a rocky, stony road that makes the ride extremely wobbly.
“Sure, what is it?” Brooks answers smoothly.
“I’m just gonna take us off the track a minute,” Tex says, sounding pleased with himself. “You might want to hold on to the side of the cart…”
And suddenly we’re lurching to the left, and my whole body slides into Brooks, who somehow catches me before I launch us both off the cart and onto the grass we’re currently careening across. Our bodies are bumping up and down, the horse is grunting because it’s hot and he’s annoyed and I can’t blame him.
And Tex, who I’m thinking has some kind of death wish, is whooping and hollering as we roll toward the edge of a cliff.
I open my mouth to scream for him to stop, but no words come out. We hit a rock and one side of the cart lifts. I close my eyes and cling onto Brooks because I’m going to die here, I know I am, and this is not how I planned to go.
His arms wrap tightly around me, and I bury my face in his shirt, not caring that it’ll probably be covered in mascara when they find our bodies piled at the bottom of the cliff. That’s if they find us before the coyotes do.
“Okay, here ya go!” Tex pulls our cart to an abrupt halt, making Brooks slam into the back of the bench, and me slam into him. He lets out a breath, like I’ve winded him.
“You can get out and look. It’s worth it,” Tex tells us.
Slowly, I pull my head away from Brooks’ surprisingly comfortable chest and look at him. There’s no expression on his face at all. How does he do that? Looks so cool while I’m reeling from my second near death experience in the same day?
And yes, I’m totally counting the turbulence we went through as a near death experience.
“I think getting out would be a good idea,” Brooks murmurs in my ear. I nod in agreement, because right now my feet need to feel solid ground. He climbs out first, but I don’t let go of his hand in fear that Tex will suddenly shake the reins and take off with me alone in the cart.
But Tex is way too busy lighting up a cigarette and putting his feet up as he stares past the horse.
It’s only when Brooks practically lifts me down from the cart and we walk to the edge of the cliff that I see what he’s looking at.
The view is absolutely breathtaking.
There are fields and hills as far as the eye can see. The sun is beating down, making the colors of the grass look greener, the rocks redder. And there are cattle scattered across the green, though this far away they look like tiny ants.
“See over there?” Tex calls out to us, pointing to an outcrop of long, yellow grass in the distance. “The boss has reintroduced a herd of bison. Damn amazing beasts.”
I take my phone out, because the camera has some great zoom-in capabilities. And when I point it in the right direction, I can see those beautiful, majestic animals up close. They take my breath away with their shaggy brown coats and curved horns.
“We got us some babies this year.” Tex climbs down. “Hey, can you watch the horse? I just need to go water a tree.”
“Water a…” I trail off as I realize what he’s saying. For the first time, Brooks smiles.
“What are you grinning at?” I ask him.
“You.”
My lips curl, because I can’t help but smile either. It’s been the strangest day so far, but somehow having him here has made it bearable. Even if he has the best resting bitch face of anybody I know.
“You can smile all you want,” I tell him. “You’re holding the horse.”
“The horse isn’t going anywhere,” he tells me, looking in the animal’s direction. If horses could have expressions, he’d look bored.
“I’ve always wanted to see bisons or buffalos up close,” I tell Brooks. “I used to be obsessed by them.”
He tips his head to the side. “You were? Why?”
“They’re so beautiful. So proud and strong. And we just…” I shake my head. “We kind of ruined them.”
There’s something strangely soft in the way he looks at me. “You never cease to amaze me,” he tells me. “You’re extremely unpredictable.”
“Am I?” I frown. “I thought I was completely predictable.”
“You howl at the moon. You’re obsessed by bison. I’m thinking you’re more wild animal than human.”
I narrow my eyes. “That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”
“It is,” he says, sounding assured. “I’ve always liked animals better than people.”
I open my mouth to ask him if that means he likes me. But I’m not sure I want to hear the answer. Instead, I stare at him, and he stares right back, a light wind ruffling our hair as the horse lets out a tiny snort.
And that’s when I decide. I’m going to do this. We’re going to do this. I take a step toward him until our bodies are inches away from each other. Those little frown lines appear between his eyebrows, like he’s still trying to work me out. I close the gap between us and loop my arms around his neck.
“By the way, baby,” I murmur. “The answer is yes.”
The corner of his lip quirks up. “Baby?”
I widen my eyes at him. Get with the program, Salinger. If we’re going to do this, we’ll be doing it properly . “Baby,” I confirm.
He blinks, those thick lashes sweeping down, then before I can say anything else his mouth is on mine. It’s the softest, sweetest kiss. The kind a boyfriend who’s stupidly in love with you would give you. It sends a shiver of delight through my body.
“Hey, did I just hear what I thought I heard?” Tex says, walking back toward us with the biggest grin on his face. “Did you just accept his proposal? Cos I heard you say ‘yes’.”
What? My mouth drops open, and the pleasurable shiver disappears completely.
“Um…” Brooks looks like he’s the cornered animal now.
“That’s so romantic. I can’t wait to tell the others.” He claps his hands together, looking like all his Christmases have come at once. “That’s my first proposal. Holy Moses, I’m delighted for you both.”
Brooks slides his hand into mine, squeezing it tightly. “Thank you,” he says, his voice completely serious. “But if it’s okay with you, we’d like to keep it on the down-low. We wouldn’t want anything to overshadow Cassie and Derek’s wedding.”
“Hey sure. No problem.” Tex is still grinning at us. “Hey, where’s the ring?”
“We don’t have one,” Brooks tells him. “It was a spur-of-the-moment proposal.” How does he sound so convincing? I swear the man’s either the best actor in the world or a complete sociopath.
“Well we can’t be having that.” Tex frowns. “Hey, I got an idea.” He pulls a chain from around his neck. Looped onto it is a silver ring. “This was my mom’s. I think she’d like you to have it.” He unclasps the chain and slides the ring off, handing it to Brooks. “Do it again, man. Let me watch this time. I can’t get enough of this romantic stuff.”
Okay, so now I really am horrified. “We can’t take your mom’s ring,” I tell him.
“Of course you can. I want you to. She’d love it. She’s an old romantic too.”
My eyes catch Brooks’ eyes. He offers me a comforting smile but I can’t do this. I just can’t take a man’s mother’s ring from him.
“We’ll give it back,” Brooks says, his gaze not wavering from mine. “Just as soon as I buy you a proper engagement ring.”
“It’s okay. My mom’s gotten another five rings since this one,” Tex tells us. “Told ya, she’s an old romantic. Loves weddings, especially her own.”
Okay, so that’s not so bad.
Brooks tips his head at me. And I know he’s asking me what he should do. I know what we should do. Run away and never look back.
But it’s Cassie’s wedding. We’re neck deep in this. I give him a slight nod.
And then he drops to his knee in front of me, in the smoothest, easiest movement I think I’ve ever seen. He takes my hand in his, his face completely solemn. And though I know this is pretend, and that it means nothing at all, a wave of emotion washes over me.
“Emma,” Brooks says. “Beautiful, amazing Emma. Since you came into my life it hasn’t been the same. In the best of ways. You make me laugh, you make me smile, you make me feel like this world is better because you’re in it. I can’t imagine waking up in a world where you’re not mine. Please do me the absolute honor of agreeing to be my wife.” There’s no teasing in his voice. No malice. And though I know it’s all a lie, the sweetness of his words sends a shiver down my spine.
I can’t look away from him. I don’t want to. The likelihood of me ever getting a real proposal like that is minimal. So for today I’m going to pretend it’s real. That I’m living the fairytale.
Until the wedding’s over and we both go our separate ways.
“I think ya gotta answer him,” Tex prompts.
I take a shaky breath. “Yes,” I whisper. “Of course, the answer is yes.” Brooks slides the ring on my finger – it’s a little tight but he gets it over my knuckle, and then he stands and cups my face in his hand and wipes the tear away.
“Kiss her, man,” Tex tells him.
And he does. This time it’s not so soft. It’s hard and passionate and feels like a fiancé claiming his wife-to-be. It’s not real, I tell myself, but I still melt into his arms until he pulls away and kisses the spot where my jawline meets my neck.
“Okay, my man.” Tex high fives him. “Can I get a picture of the three of us?” he asks, pulling his phone out of his jean’s pocket. “My first proposal. Jesus, I can’t wait to tell my mom. She’s gonna love it.”
He steps between us and we pose as he gets a shot of the three of us. He insists I hold my finger up to show the ring.
“Thanks. Now let’s get you to your tent,” he says, hurrying us back to the cart. “I’m sure you two have some celebrating to do, if you know what I mean.” He winks at us.
So I climb back into the cart as an engaged woman, my fake fiancé helping me up.
Neither of us exchanges a word for the next five minutes as the driver hurries the horse to get us to our destination.
But Brooks holds my hand for the rest of the ride.