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I blink. Hard.

West makes a low sound in his throat – something between a laugh and a warning – and presses a kiss to my temple. His lips linger there, warm and annoyingly sensual.

“I haven’t told him everything,” he murmurs. “Just the important pieces.”

His hand slides down my waist like he owns me, like this is just another night of domestic bliss and not the start of a veryweird fever dream. I stiffen on instinct, but then I catch his look. The warning in it. The plea.

Fine.I’ll play along.

I lean into him, wrap my arm around his back, and rest my head against his shoulder, praying I don’t smell like bonfire, sweat, and anxiety.

Bennett sighs like he’s watching a Hallmark movie in real time.

“Baby,” West says, kissing me again. I shoot him a look, because he really is laying it on thick. “Do you think we should take Bennett back to our house?” He inclines his head toward the door. “Before your brothers decide to come up and offer to castrate me.”

My stomach drops. Damn, if Hudson or Asher walked in here now, I’m not sure I would survive it.

But then another thought occurs to me. A really, really awful thought.

“Oh,” I say quickly, widening my eyes at him. “That’s… really not a good idea.”

West frowns like I’ve pissed in his cornflakes. “Why not?”

I shoot a warm smile at Bennett then turn my gaze back to West. “Actually, honey,” I whisper, “Can I speak to you in private?” I’m practically simpering as I speak. “There’s… a thing I need to tell you.”

West lets out a grunt like he’s not at all happy about this. But still, I know I’m right so I tug him toward the hallway, the fingers of my good hand digging into his bicep.

Okay, not quite digging. More like bouncing off. Ouch, is there metal in his arm instead of muscles?

I push open the first door we come to – Hudson’s library – and close it behind us. West visibly changes as soon as we’re alone. That soft look, those touchy feely hands, they alldisappear in a heartbeat. Replaced by an expression that looks so out of place on him it takes me a minute to work out.

Panic.

“Shit.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe this.” His eyes widen. “Why did you pull me away? You know we have to take him home. We can’t trust him to behave in the hotel. Or not to say anything. You saw how chatty he is.”

I let out a breath. “I know. But West… your house. It’s completely unprepared. We have separate rooms. There’s no sign that we’re a couple. Not even a photograph of our wedding.”

He blinks, my words sinking in. “Can’t we just tell him we’re keeping up the charade at home in case your brothers drop in?”

I roll my eyes at him. “You’re supposed to be in love with me. My soul mate. The man who can’t keep his hands off me in private. Does that scream separate rooms to you?”

He grimaces. “No. Shit.”

“Then we need to persuade him it’s real,” I point out.

He tips his head to the side, studying me for a moment. “And how do you propose we do that?”

“Well, staying in separate bedrooms doesn’t exactly look like we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

His brows lift. “Are you suggesting we sleep in the same bed? Together?” The way he says it, low and deep, sends a shiver down my spine.

“I’m suggesting we make it look like we’re actually a couple. Photos. Clothes in the same drawers. My toiletries in your bathroom.” I take a deep breath. “And yes, sharing a bed.”

West moves before I can blink, bracing one arm on the door behind me, caging me in. “You’d have to sleep with me,” he points out.

My muscles tighten. Shift. “Shut up.”

“As in fall asleep,” he corrects. “Are you really willing to do that?”