Page 31 of Pucking Revenge

I’m still lost in the flash of hurt that hit her at my words. “Hmm?”

“Will you tell your brothers it’s over? That you suffered from temporary insanity?” Her red-rimmed eyes go steely, wary. “I should probably start looking for another job.” She wrings her hands and slips her legs free.

Chest still aching, I frown. “What? Why? You did nothing wrong.”

She stands and paces to the kitchen, then turns back. “I can’t work with your uncle every day. Especially once he realizes you were just showboating. The two of you will get past this. He’s your family. I’m just—” Her voice cracks, and she swallows thickly. “I’m just the mistress.”

My world tilts at the way her voice breaks, and I’m moving again without thinking, pulling her into my chest and raking my fingers through her unruly hair. I grip it firmly and tilt her head so she’s forced to look at me. “You are not just anything. You’re not a goddamn mistress, or a dirty secret. You deserve to be paraded around. Celebrated. And that’s what we’re going to do.”

Breathless, she stares up at me. “What?”

“Let’s do this, Sar. Be my girlfriend. Let me show my uncle how you should be treated. Let me show everyone, including you, how you deserve to be treated.”

She lets out a bewildered laugh. “Brooks, I literally ended things with your uncle today. I’m not ready for another relationship.”

I throw up my shields before her words can touch my heart and scramble for a way to convince her to try this with me. “It wouldn’t be real. Just—let’s get a little revenge. Show him what it feels like.” I bend my knees so we’re eye to eye and capture her attention. “Would it be so awful to have to pretend to be mine?”

Sara’s eyes soften, and her palm finds my cheek. I hate how I want to lean into it. “No, it wouldn’t. Not at all, Brooks. But I don’t deserve it.”

There goes my heart again, aching for her. How can she believe that about herself? “Maybe you don’t think you do,” I argue, “but don’t I deserve it? Please, I need this. I need…” I blow out a breath and press my forehead to hers like I did at the restaurant. “He needs to pay. I can’t tell my aunt what he did. The last thing I want to do is hurt her. But…he can’t just get away with this.” My words sound as desperate as I feel, but I’m not above begging when it comes to Sara. “Do it for me, Pumpkin.”

A puff of a laugh escapes her. “That nickname, Brooks.”

My heart lifts just a little, enough that I find myself grinning. “Like it? Honestly, it just slipped out. I can try other names. Sugar? Sweetie pie?”

She smiles up at me, the first one I’ve seen from her since Seb stepped into the restaurant earlier, and she loops her arms around my waist, melting against my chest. “You really want me to be your fake girlfriend?”

No, I want her to be my real everything, but I can’t exactly say that. “Yes.”

She pulls back and studies me, her brows pulled low. “How would it work exactly? I work for the team. Won’t that cause complications?”

“Like my brothers said, it’s fine.” I brush a strand of hair from her forehead. “If it involves us, Liv will handle it. But you know me. You haven’t had to handle a single scandal for me yet.”

“That’s because you’re Good-Boy Brooks. What you’re talking about doing now is very un-good-boy behavior.”

With a low growl, I haul her to me again. “Good. Then maybe you’ll stop with that fucking nickname.”

She laughs and pinches my side. “Aw, you want a new nickname, Brookie?”

In retaliation, I tickle her stomach.

She loses it, practically going limp and tumbling toward the ground, but I catch her.

“Keep it up, and I’ll show you how very bad I can be.” Holding her tight, I go for her stomach again.

Sara sucks in a breath and grasps my hand before I can tickle her. She looks up at me and bats her lashes in a way that practically makes me melt. Then she pops up on her toes and whispers, “First you’ll have to catch me.” Then she pushes off me and rushes to the other side of the room.

A warmth spreads through me as she bounces around on her toes, watching me like she’s trying to predict which way I’ll go, her blond curls dancing withevery move. The cranberry silk of her dress strains against her curves in the most perfect way as she shifts from foot to foot. God, she’s gorgeous. And she’s finally fucking smiling. Really smiling.

“You really want to play?” I taunt, taking one step closer.

She stands still and taps her finger against her chin. “Hmm, yup!” Then she scurries around the couch, headed toward her bedroom, but I’ve got longer legs and a determination to win.

Once I’ve got both hands on her waist, I lift her off the ground and pull her to me. The way her legs continue to move even as her ass is glued to my hips pulls a bark of laughter from me.

“Nice try, Pumpkin. Now give me a new nickname, or we’ll be doing this all night.”

With a groan, she drops her head back against my chest. “You gotta give me more time to think.”

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