The Problem With Pretending Read Online Emma Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
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“Why can’t he afford them? He’s hardly on the poverty line,” I replied.

“Isn’t he?” she asked me innocently. “Do you know that for sure?”

“What do you know that we don’t?” Freya asked, stifling a grin. “And how do you know this stuff given you’ve removed yourself entirely from these circles?”

Grace sighed heavily. “I’m forced into monthly dinners with my father and his wife. Carmen is a notorious gossip and insists on sharing it all with me even though I’ve told her I don’t give a damn.”

“Can I come to these dinners?” my sister questioned. “They sound far more interesting than our family dinners.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Please do. I’ll never turn down reinforcements.”

Freya leant into Grace. “I changed the seating plan,” she whispered with a smile. “She’s at the back of the room for dinner and you’re at the front on the family table.”

“Not the top table,” I replied. “I want to take my tie off when we’re done.”

“You’re not taking off your tie, William.” Freya tugged on the one I was currently wearing. “You’re the bride’s brother, and you will be dressed appropriately until I tell you otherwise.”

“I thought you were over your bridezilla phase.”

“Not where you’re concerned.” She tapped my cheek, grinned, then squeezed Grace’s upper arm gently and swept off to speak to someone in another group.

Grace laugh, turning to watch her go. “She’s so fun.”

“You and I find enjoyment in very different things,” I said dryly. “That’s not a word I’d use to describe her.”

“You’re just salty you can’t take off your tie.” She spun into me and tapped my chest. “Do you think we’re pulling this off?”

I peered down at her. “Get any closer to me and I’ll be tempted to go upstairs and pull off that dress.”

Her cheeks flushed red. “That’s not what I meant!”

“I know, and I don’t care.” I snaked my arm fully down her side, pulling her into me. “I happen to think you look great in green, and I’m trying very hard to behave myself.”

She tilted her head back and looked up at me, her cheeks still slightly tinted pink. “Stop flirting with me, William.”

“Absolutely not.” I dipped my chin, bringing my face close to hers. “You’re my girlfriend. I’m allowed to flirt with you.”

“No, I—”

I pressed my lips to hers before she could finish that sentence. “Shh,” I whispered. “Someone might hear you.”

“Why? Because you’ll have to stop doing that?”

“Kissing you? I highly doubt it. You’re not exactly stopping it, are you?”

She pouted. “I’m in character.”

I laughed, straightening up again. “Are you? Shall I call the BAFTAs and nominate you for your role as The Viscount’s Girlfriend?”

“You could try, but they’d probably rename this production The Lady and The Tramp.”

“Ooh, you wound me.”

Her lips twisted into a smile. “I can if you ask nicely.”

“You two disgust me,” Olive said, approaching us with an olive-filled martini in hand. “Are you sure this is fake? You look far too loved up. I’m very uncomfortable with you snogging my granddaughter in front of me.”

I fought back a laugh. “I didn’t know you were there,” I replied. “And might I say that you look lovely tonight?”

“You’re an arse-licker, Glenroch.” Her words were sharp, but her mouth was smiling. “Keep it coming, and I might approve of this relationship yet.”

“Granny,” Grace said. “There is no relationship.”

“You say that, but you’re over here sucking his face like you’re in a desert and he’s the only cactus with any water around.”

“Granny!” Grace gasped. “Would it kill you to engage your brain and be somewhat polite? Have you forgotten your manners?”

Olive grinned slowly. “Ah, there’s the toff in you. I knew she was still in there, no matter how hard you try to deny it.”

Grace ran her tongue over her lips, then drew in a deep breath which she quickly huffed out. “I should have made you take me back to the airport,” she muttered, sipping her glass of wine.

I laughed, gently squeezing her into me. “I’m very glad you didn’t.”

“Aw. Look at you, you little lovestruck fucker,” Olive said, smiling at me. “It’s gross.”

“And I’m done,” Grace said, extracting herself from me. “I’m going… I don’t know, perhaps Dewy has another story about an army of bunnies or something.”

“Probably,” I called after her, watching her walk across the room.

God.

She was beautiful.

Olive narrowed her eyes. “Oh, balls. You really are a little lovestruck fucker.”

I stared flatly at her. “Do you have to put it like that?”

“Aha! I thought you’d deny it.” She shuffled closer to me. “You fell fast, didn’t you?”

“I’m not in love with her. Not even close,” I said quietly. “But I can’t deny she’s an amazing person.”

“Thank you,” Olive said. “I am very proud to have passed that part of me down to her. Lord knows she didn’t get it from her father.”

“No love lost between you and Edward, I see. Not that I blame you for it.”


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