Page 111 of Perfectly Grumpy

“Yeah,” I manage. “You really brought it to life.”

Tate chuckles. “Too bad Thorne and Kyara have nothing on us.”

If only that were true.Because Thorne gets his happy ending in a few chapters. But what do I get? I’m not even sure. I’m applying for jobs in other cities. His ex is texting him. And come Monday, I go back to being the woman who manages his PR while trying to pretend this never happened.

For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like if this were real. If there were no professional boundaries, no ex in the picture, no NHL promotions to consider. Just Tate and me and the possibility of something beautiful.

And that’s when reality comes crashing down. Because I’m the one writing my own fantasy now.

I hand him his glasses, trying to act like my whole world wasn’t shaken up by that kiss. “Is that scene going to make it into the final draft?”

“Oh, it’sin,” he says with a wicked smirk. “With a note in the margin that says: ‘Scene personally coached by Lauren Williamson.’”

I toss a pillow at him.

He catches it, grinning. Then he pulls me against him on the sofa bed, so that we both face the candlelight. He tucks his face into the curve of my neck, resting his cheek against my hair as the warmth of his embrace makes me feel sleepy.

“Would you mind if I took a nap?” I ask. It’s still raining, andwith Tate’s arms around me, there’s no place I’d rather be. Even if it’s just for now. Just for pretend.

“Not at all,” he says. “We’ll call it bonus scene work. Because this must be exactly how Thorne felt when he held her.”

A sleepy smile curves my lips. “In that case, it’s perfect.”

As I close my eyes, I don’t dream of fictional heroes or made-up stories. I dream of Tate.

And it doesn’t feel like pretend at all.

THIRTY-SIX

Tate

When the morning sun finally filters through the old curtains of the cabin, I instinctively reach for her across the sofa bed.

But all I feel is the empty blanket beside me.

No Lauren.

I sit up, scanning the cabin, memories of last night flooding back. The way she kissed me, like she’d been waiting for it as much as I had, left me wishing that we weren’t just acting out a scene. But then she admitted she was trying not to want more.What did that mean?Was she fighting her feelings for me—and if so, why?

And she apparently just left without a word. That’s not how I expected our last day of the family reunion to go. This week has felt like a respite from reality, but what I didn’t expect was how it would leave me wanting things I’ve never wanted before.

I get up and pull my dry shirt over my head. Lauren’s jacket is gone too.

When I step outside, I spot her coming down one of the hiking trails, carrying doughnuts, coffee, and something that suspiciously looks like a computer under her arm.

“Did you find my computer?” I blurt before shereaches me.

“Yeah, I wanted to confront Bart about the break-in,” she says as she walks over to me and holds out a doughnut.

“By yourself?”

“Of course by myself,” she says, sitting on the porch steps. “I’ve been inspired by Kyara, who goes up against warriors twice her size.” Then she tosses me a small grin.

“How’d you do it?” I say, taking a bite of my doughnut as I sit next to her.

“I walked up to him at breakfast and said that if he wants to compete in paintball today, he needs to stop illegally entering your cabin and stealing stuff.”

I stop chewing. “You seriously said that? In front of your whole family?”

---