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I do. After fucking her senseless, she was quite a mess. I dragged her into a warm shower and soaped her off, and she was barely conscious when I carried her to the bed, where I tucked her in.

I wasn’t planning to keep her overnight, but she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

I slept beside her, off and on, but not well.

When I don’t respond, she says, “I hope I’m not making it weird. I think we can be cool around each other, right? We’re both adults.”

I grumble something I hope satisfies, but it’s definitely not words. I’d rather we didn’t talk at all.

“Also… thank you for the shower,” she says carefully.

Maybe she’s finally picking up on the fact that I don’t want, or need, her thank you’s.

When I say nothing, and hopefully appear to be absorbed in work, she hums softly to herself as she presumably checks email on her phone.

I can’t concentrate, too obsessed with the curve of her lower back. I can handle less than a minute of it before getting up and telling her, “I need to make some calls.”

She looks up. “Oh. Of course. Should we have breakfast after?”

“I don’t have time.” I leave the office, and head through the family room and out to my backyard.

I stalk across the patio, and settle onto one of the stools along the bar by my immaculate but unused pool, in silence.

Something brushes against my leg, and I glance down; black fur.

I stroke the cat absently as I consider that last item on the list of criteria I gave Manus with his special assignment.Emotionally unavailable.

Logically, I understand why she appeared to meet that criteria. She wasn’t single. Presumably, she was emotionally involved with her boss at the bakery. Dating her boss was a risk. Dating him in secret was yet another risk. And those risks she was taking, for him, suggested a depth of connection.

Clearly, that part was wrong.

And maybe the biggest mistake I made was not taking into account thatImight get attached.

However, there is no world in which I can afford to attach myself to Quinn Monroe.

If my family sees me with her, they’ll ask more questions about her. They’ll dig in, because they can’t help themselves. And even if they can look past the fact that sheused towork for us, I’m sure they’d love nothing more than to gossip about the love life of the brother they nicknamedthe beast—because they decided, years ago, that I was too ill-tempered for any woman to put up with.

And if they dig enough, maybe they’ll find out the truth; that Quinn is not Darla.

I can’t have that.

I met with my siblings last weekend so we could draw the next name from Granddad’s cigar box, and the next challenge. Now, it’s Savannah’s turn. My one-month deadline officially passed yesterday. So, my allotted time to complete my challenge is now finished, and Savannah’s challenge is underway.

My lie is sealed. It’s far too late to ever go back on it now.

I wonder, suddenly, what Quinn thinks of me lying to my family. Which is fucking annoying. I’ve never wondered that before.

Maybe it’s just the guilt that’s getting to me. I don’t feel great about lying to my family, that’s all.

And what would Quinn think if she found out the truth?

Would she hate me for lying toher?

It bothers me that I care.

I shouldn’t care.

We fucked, and now it’s done.