Strictly Pretend (The Salinger Brothers #6)

Chapter 30

CHAPTER

THIRTY

EMMA

It takes two weeks before I feel comfortable enough leaving Granddad to travel with Brooks to his father’s estate in Virginia. Granddad’s friend, Morty, comes to stay with him and when the car picks me up the two of them are bickering over whether Joan Baez or Joni Mitchell had the best voice.

We had a meeting with the cardiac specialist last week. His official diagnosis is Sinus Tachycardia. He needs to reduce his stress and change his diet. He’s officially off caffeine, much to his disgust. But I’m taking it serious for both of us.

“I’m leaving,” I say to Granddad. “Be good for Morty.”

Morty splutters out a laugh as Granddad shakes his head. “Say hi to Brooks for me.” The two of them spent a lot of time together while Granddad was in the hospital, and then for the first couple of days after discharge while he was recovering from his ablation, a procedure that involved a thin tube being inserted in his veins until it reached his heart. The part of his heart that was causing the arrhythmia was frozen and destroyed, so it couldn’t cause anymore problems for him.

Granddad continued to repeat the fact that Eli Salinger, the ex-NHL player, is Brooks’ brother. Brooks already scored Granddad some tickets for the first game of the season.

Brooks is meeting me at the little airport in Virginia near his dad’s place. He’s been there for a couple of days, deep in meetings with his brothers. I’ve met most of them already, because Brooks is constantly video calling me.

It’s scary how similar they all look, even though the oldest – Myles – is at least fifteen years older than Brooks. He’s quietly spoken and solemn, except for when you ask him about his wife or kids.

Liam and Linc, on the other hand, are boisterous and flirty. They make me smile. Then there are the two brothers slap bang in the middle. Eli – the ex-hockey player – and Holden – the doctor who was there by text to give Brooks and me support when we needed it while Granddad was undergoing his procedure.

I like all of them. I’m excited to finally meet them in person. And of course, Brooks’ dad will be there.

I’m feeling awkward about that. So much so that by the time I walk down the three steps of the private plane Brooks chartered for me, my chest is feeling tight. But that feeling disappears when I see his smiling face. He holds his arms out and I run into them, squealing happily as he kisses my lips.

Then he lifts my left hand up.

“It’s still there, you goof,” I say, because I know he’s checking that I’m still wearing the ring. “I called Tex last week to tell him I hadn’t forgotten and he’ll be getting it back.”

“I wonder if he’ll sell it to me,” Brooks murmurs. “I’m getting pretty attached to it.”

It’s a twenty minute drive to his father’s estate. Brooks is driving a sports car that belongs to his brother Liam, who apparently needed some persuading before allowing Brooks to borrow it to pick me up.

“Are they all at the cabins?” I ask him. He’s explained that although his dad, stepmother, and his sister live in the main house, along with his mom and his other stepmom when they visit, the brothers each have a cabin. They got to design and build them when they were teens.

Apparently each one is different. Some of them have had additions built on since his brothers have started having kids.

“Speaking of which, I told them all,” he says. “About me not being able to have kids.”

“How did they take it?” I ask him, knowing he’d only confided in Linc before.

“Honestly? They were fine. Eli started telling me that adopting was the best thing he ever did. Myles explained that his wife was planning on doing IVF before they met. I had to make them all promise not to mention babies in front of you, because they’re so fucking over the top in their problem solving they’re gonna scare you off.”

“Are you scared off?” I ask him.

His eyes catch mine as we drive through a huge pair of wrought iron gates. “Never. I told them it’s still early. We’ll decide whether we want kids in the future. Right now I just need to get you to agree to marry me again.”

“We never got married in the first place,” I point out.

“Yeah, but you agreed to it. That’s the again I’m talking about.”

I can’t hide the smile on my face as we round the corner and I get the first glimpse of the house. It’s huge, more of a mansion than a home, set on top of one of the tallest hills in the estate. There are trees and lakes everywhere.

“I can’t believe you’re this rich,” I tell him.

“I’m not. My father is.”

I bite down a smile, because I know this man is rich in his own right. I also know that I couldn’t give a damn about it.

We pull onto the sweeping driveway that curves around the front of the house. Spotting somebody on the front steps, Brooks deliberately locks the steering wheel to the left and does a handbrake turn to park the car, the wheels squealing against the blacktop.

“For God’s sake slow down,” the person on the steps shouts out.

“Is that Liam, by chance?” I ask.

Brooks grins. “He loves this car more than he loves life.”

“I’ll never understand the brotherly relationship.” I shake my head.

“Imagine Romulus and Remus fighting to the death,” Brooks says, turning the engine off and walking around to help me out. "Then times that by three. That’s pretty much our relationship.”

But as soon as we walk up the steps to the house I can tell that’s not true. We’re surrounded by a huge crowd of people. His brothers, their wives, and their children all run at us, hugging us both and saying their names – names I know I’ll never remember. In the doorway are three women and a man.

“Emma, this is my mom, Deandra,” Brooks says, pointing at the first woman, her blonde hair perfectly styled.

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” Deandra says, hugging me.

“And this is Linda, kind of my second mom.”

“I love your hair,” Linda says, kissing my cheek. “I used to dye my hair that red when I was younger.”

“And this is my dad, Rupert, and his wife, Julia.”

Julia kisses my other cheek, then the three women walk inside, leaving us alone with Rupert Salinger.

He’s as tall as Brooks, and although he has to be at least seventy, his grip is strong as he reaches out to shake my hand. The resemblance between him and his sons is striking, though his hair is mostly gray compared to their dark locks.

It’s like getting a glimpse of how Brooks will look in forty years.

Not bad at all.

“Emma,” Rupert says. “Thank you for coming. And before you come in, I’d like to apologize for all you and your grandfather have been put through.”

My throat tightens. “It’s okay,” I tell him. And weirdly enough, it is. I’ve already gotten over it. “My granddad says thank you for the fruit basket you sent.”

“He called me to thank me, too,” Rupert says. “He’s a good man.” He gives me another nod. “And very proud of you, as he should be.”

Brooks presses his hand against my back.

“I appreciate that,” I tell him. “That means a lot.”

“Now please come in. Are you hungry? There’s some food in the kitchen. Tonight we’ll all have dinner together. Get to know you.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Brooks kisses my brow. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”

“Are you going down to the cabin?” Rupert asks.

“Yeah,” Brooks says. “But I want to show something to Emma first.”

I look up at him, intrigued. “What do you want to show me?”

“You’ll see.” He takes my hand, a huge smile on his face, as he leads me into the house and down a hallway. At the end I can see the kitchen, stretching out across the back of the house. There has to be at least twenty people in there, but it’s still not full.

“In here,” he murmurs, opening a door.

And when I look inside my breath catches.

It’s a library. But not any old library. It’s huge. Bigger than the one in Cassie’s dad’s house. You could hold a dance in here if you wanted. But even better, it’s two stories, with a Beauty-and-the-Beast ladder on rails that covers all four walls.

With his hand still in mine, Brooks leads me to that ladder. “Climb up.”

“Is this some kind of kinky sex thing?” I ask. “Because I’ve always dreamed of library sex.”

He grins. “No. Though I like the way you think. But since my whole family is about twenty feet away, I think I’ll save that for another time.” He puts my hand on the rail and has me climb up so my feet are on the second rung, my body facing the ladder.

“You holding on?” he asks.

“Um, yes?”

And then he pulls the damn ladder along the rail like it’s a fairground attraction. I cling onto it, the air wooshing past my face as we move.

“Here,” he murmurs, stopping.

I look at the shelves of books in front of me. They’re all in pristine condition. Bound in a dark navy leather. God only knows how much the binding on all of them must have cost.

“Granddad would love this place,” I tell him.

I feel Brooks climb on behind me, his front pressing against my back. “Choose a book,” he says.

“Why?” I’m completely confused.

He kisses my neck. “Because I want you to.”

His breath against my skin makes me shiver. “You’re such a sweet talker. You know books are my love language.”

“They’re in alphabetical order,” he tells me. “We’re at the Rs.”

“I’m a huge fan of Christina Rosetti,” I say, reaching for the book.

He takes my hand softly. “What about the book next to it?”

I look. And then I look again. My heart swells until it’s so full in my chest.

“Brooks,” I whisper. “No way.”

“Remember when I spoke to your granddad the day we got back?”

“I remember.” I’m not going to cry, I’m not.

“I asked him for your hand in marriage. He told me it’s not him I need to woo, it’s you. But the thing is, you’re not easily wooed. But you do have an achilles’ heel.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. You love hard. And you love your granddad. And you know there’s one thing that will make his life complete.”

“This book,” I whisper, pulling it from the shelf. On the front, in gold writing, is my grandmother’s name.

Sally Robbins. Love Poetry, Vol 1

There was never another volume. There never needed to be. She wrote a book. It was published.

And now it’s in my hands.

“Does Granddad know you found it?” I ask him. Because he’s going to be over the moon. Maybe we need to break it to him gently. We don’t need another heart issue.

“Not yet. I needed to show it to you first.”

A wave of emotion washes over me, making my breath ragged.

“Baby…” He kisses my brow.

“Happy tears,” I tell him. “Really, really happy tears.” I turn to look at him. And then I decide I need to turn completely, which is actually easier said than done when you’re balanced on a ladder and a really big, muscled guy is pressed against your back.

But somehow I manage it without breaking any bones. And then I’m facing him, and he’s looking concerned – presumably like I might fall – because he puts his hands on either side of me, pressing his body against mine.

“When we live together I need a library,” I tell him.

“I’ll have one built in every house we own.”

I start to laugh. “Can I call Granddad? I need to tell him about the book.”

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Brooks murmurs.

“If it’s can we have library sex, the answer is definitely yes.”

But he’s already climbing down, dropping onto one knee, pulling out the most exquisite ring I’ve ever seen. A huge emerald surrounded by tiny diamonds set on a platinum clasp.

“It reminded me of your eyes,” he murmurs as I stare at it. And if I thought I was emotional before, right now I’m on the edge of some kind of feelings implosion.

He takes it out of the box. “Emma Robbins. My friend. My lover. My fake fiancée. Howler at the moon and whiskey connoisseur. Will you do me the honor of agreeing to be my real fiancée? Not that you were ever not real. Or not my fiancée.” He grins. “I should have written this down. It sounds terrible.”

“It sounds perfect,” I whisper. “And by the way, the answer’s yes.”

The words barely escape my lips before he’s sliding the ring on my finger and sweeping me off the ladder and into his arms, his mouth demanding against mine as he kisses me until my toes curl in pleasure.

“It’s going to be a small wedding,” he tells me, his mouth moving against mine.

“The smallest.”

“No bachelor parties, no bridal parties, no fucking yurts.”

I start to laugh. “I liked the yurt.”

“Just you and me and our love. By the ocean as the sun goes down.”

My breath catches in my throat. “I’d like Granddad to be there.” I say, brushing the hair out of his face. “And I know you’ll want your family there. And Mia and Cassie and Rita…”

“We can ask Mark to be the officiant,” he growls and I laugh.

“I don’t care how we do it,” I tell him. “I just want to do it.”

He grins. “We’re still talking about the wedding, right?”

“Kinda.”

He sets me onto the floor, his mouth claiming mine once more. “I was hoping you’d say that. Now is the perfect time to show you my cabin.”

He grins at me, then pulls me out of the library, my legs moving at double time to keep up with him.

“And by the way, I’m coming back with you on the plane when you head home. I thought we could give your granddad the book together.”

“Can you stop being so perfect please?” I ask him, but I don’t mean it. I’m so stupidly happy I could burst and this man knows it.

The way he knows everything about me.

“What was my favorite book in eight grade?” I ask him as we walk out into the sunlight and he pulls me toward a path that winds down the hill into the wooded area around the lake.

“ Jane Eyre , because you have a scary obsession with Rochester,” he tells me.

“How do you remember that?” I ask. I remember telling him during one of our late night conversations. When I thought all of this was fake and I felt so alone in the world.

“Because I remember every single thing you’ve ever told me,” he says, turning to look at me with a sincere expression. “I remember your first word and your favorite ice cream and the way you have to spread butter to every corner of your piece of toast, like you’re trying to play fairsies.”

“It tastes better that way,” I protest. But he hasn’t finished.

“I remember the way your smile lights my fucking world up, every time I look at you. And I remember the way you growl my name when I come inside you in the light of the moon in a far away lake.”

I swallow hard.

“You’re unforgettable, Emma Robbins. Not that I’m ever going to try to forget you.” He pulls me close, kissing my brow. “Now can we stop talking and start walking?” he says, taking my hand and marching me down the path. “Because I want to show you what else I remember.”

I laugh but let him lead me all the way to his cabin. And when we get inside, the laughter is joined by the sound of lips against each other, followed by the sound of soft sighs and low moans. Of us saying we love each other over and over again.

And there’s nothing fake about any of it. Because what we have is real.

And I’m so happy that I want to howl at the moon.