Page 40 of Pretend You're Mine

The day passed quickly. The house hummed with the sounds of Christmas Eve—laughter, clinking glasses, the crackle of a fire in the distant room. But a sense of heaviness settled in my chest as I thought about the family dinner looming over the evening. It was the same routine every year: endless small talk, barely veiled judgment, the pretense of togetherness—a show that always left me feeling hollow.

Creed looked like he was one more tight-lipped smile away from blowing out some steam. But with a few hours left until dinner, I figured we could both use a break—maybe sneak away, catch our breath before facing the main event.

As soon as the idea took shape, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw it was my assistant. I sighed, knowing this wasn’t going to be a quick conversation.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Branson.” Her voice was tight with urgency.

I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. “Happy Christmas, Miss Rodgers. What’s going on?”

“Last-minute delivery delays for the holiday supplies, and we have a VIP guest whose suite has been double-booked. Plus, I’ve just been informed that a few staff members are sick and can’t cover shifts.”

“Great,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’ll handle it.”

It took me a couple of hours on the phone to get things back to order. I was stuck in my father’s office the entire time. But as the head of Branson Resorts, I couldn’t let my family’s legacy suffer because of unexpected issues, even on Christmas Eve.

Feeling confident that everything was under control now, I couldn’t wait to be in Creed’s company again. I wondered if he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him, even though it was only two hours I was stuck in my father’s office. I made my way down the hallway, voices drifting toward me—high-pitched and giggly, mingling with the low rumble of a familiar baritone. I followed the sound, curious, and stopped short when I found the source.

Creed was sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by all three of my nieces, Jenna, Harper and Emily. The tiara perched on his head sparkled beneath the glow of the fairy lights strung along the wall. His expression, usually so guarded, had softened into something almost unrecognizable—easy, unburdened.

Creed looked completely at ease, leaning back on his palms, his strong arms resting on the carpet as the girls draped him with scarves in a riot of colors—pink, purple, and glittering gold. He listened intently as they rambled on about their imaginary world, their words tumbling over each other like the ornaments scattered on the tree. His smile, wide and genuine, made something inside me swell with warmth.

“Perfect!” Harper declared, her face lighting up as if she’d just discovered a hidden treasure.

Creed gave a dramatic flourish, extending his hand and bowing low. “How do I look, Your Highnesses?”

The girls erupted into peals of laughter, clapping their hands, and my heart stumbled over itself at the sight. I lingered in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt this rare moment. He didn’t know I was there yet—didn’t know I was watching him like this, seeing a side of him I’d never seen before. And it was... mesmerizing.

"Can you be the princess of sparkles?" Emily asked, practically bouncing on her toes with eagerness.

Creed laughed, a deep rumble that sent a thrill through me. "I think I can manage that. But only if all of you promise to be my royal advisors."

The girls erupted into a fit of giggles, their joy infectious. They crowded around him, their hands flailing as they discussed royal duties, each trying to outdo the others with grand ideas.

"You should wear these!" Jenna piped up, holding up what looked like a thousand necklaces as if they were the crown jewels.

"Absolutely! I need to look stunning for the royal ball," Creed replied, feigning a dramatic sigh that sent them into another fit of laughter.

The girls began to drape necklaces around Creed’s neck—clinking and jingling like holiday bells—and I felt a wave of appreciation wash over me. I loved the way he engaged with them as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Are you a real princess now, Uncle Creed?” Harper asked, tilting her head as she inspected her handiwork. Her blonde pigtails bounced as she moved closer, squinting at him like she could see right through his playful act.

Creed let out a deep chuckle, the sound rich and warm. “I don’t know. I think you’d have to ask Uncle Avery about that one.”

Just then, a giggle escaped from Emily, who had caught sight of me standing at the doorway. Then Jenna and Harper turned,lighting up at the sight of me. I smiled, but my gaze lingered on Creed—how his eyes were soft, the way he’d let down his guard. Something stirred in my chest, warm and unexpected.

“Looks like the royal ball just got a little more exciting,” I teased, drawing Creed’s attention. He looked up at me, and for a moment, the world around us faded.

His smile was genuine, open, and it sent a thrill racing through me.

“Your Highness,” I gestured with a playful bow. “Might I have the honor of stealing you away for a moment?”

Creed turned to the girls, raising an eyebrow playfully. “What do you think, royal advisors? Can I take a quick break?”

The girls giggled and nodded enthusiastically.

“Only if the princess promises to join the feast when it’s ready,” Jenna called out.

“Deal,” Creed replied, rising to his feet and shedding the tiara with a flourish that sent the girls into another fit of giggles.

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