Playing You (Omega's Luck #3) - Claire Cullen Page 0,16

that,” Riley told him. He was reluctant to commit right away to what felt like a huge undertaking. But at the same time, it actually sounded like fun. “I enjoy a challenge. I like pretending to be someone I’m not. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Brendan grinned. “That’s the spirit. Worst-case scenario is usually us getting found out and kicked out. Sometimes the cops are called, but there’s no law against checking into a country house under an assumed name.”

“That doesn’t sound too scary.”

The alpha hesitated. “This guy we’re investigating has a reputation for taking it personally when people cross him. I won’t lie—there is some danger here. We will have to be careful.”

Riley felt a frisson of fear at that, but to his surprise, it didn’t turn him off the idea. In fact, quite the opposite. Knowing the stakes were real made it feel more exciting somehow.

“I can be careful.”

Brendan reached out and caught his hand. “I know you can. But it’s only fair for me to be very clear that you don’t have to do this. You can say no and there won’t be any consequences. You’ll still be my assistant, the job I employed you to do, regardless of whether you take on any extra work I might throw your way. Okay?”

Riley liked that the alpha worried about that kind of thing. It made him feel cared for, something he wasn’t used to.

“I get it. And I appreciate you saying that. But this isn’t an opportunity I want to pass up. Pity I’ll never be able to stick it on my resume.”

Brendan laughed loudly at that. Riley’s hand was still engulfed in his, and the alpha squeezed it gently.

“It would make for some colorful experience. Finish your cocoa, and I’ll show you the murder mystery brochure. We can start preparing tonight.”

Chapter Nine

Brendan hadn’t thought through just how much preparation the murder mystery weekend would need. It was almost impossible to fit it into work hours, since he still had a handful of cases on the go. There was only one of him, and only so much coffee Riley would let him drink. With their workdays filled, there was only one time to do it, and that was their evenings. He refused to encroach on Riley’s weekends, even though he worked many of his own. If he didn’t have a life outside of work, that was on him. It wasn’t fair to impose it on someone else.

Even working together in the evenings could be awkward. Brendan knew that Riley liked to socialize with the betas in the house. He didn’t want to always be dragging him away from that, so he stuck to nights the others were working or studying. There was also the question of where they could do their preparation. Mrs. O’Brien’s strict rules meant no one but Riley was allowed in the attic. And woe betide the both of them if she saw Riley coming out of Brendan’s basement room. It meant they had to work out in the open, and since the living room was usually occupied, the only real option was the dining room. Not that Brendan was complaining. They’d take the armchairs by the fire, stock up on cocoa and cookies, and pore over the script for the weekend. It hadn’t been hard for Brendan to get hold of a copy of the exact blueprint for how the weekend would run, right down to what the various characters were going to say and where they were going to be at any one time.

“I still think finding the body in the study is the best time to scope out his room. It seems like everyone but you and the pastor are supposed to be there,” Riley said.

“The window of opportunity is too short,” Brendan replied. “It takes time to go through someone’s room, and that scene is only supposed to last ten minutes, tops, until everyone clears out. We’re in a completely different wing of the house, so there’s no conceivable excuse for me to be there if I’m seen leaving.”

“Won’t they just think it’s part of the game?”

“No, bedrooms are off-limits for that.”

“Oh. That doesn’t make this easy.”

“No, it doesn’t. Look, I’ll have to slip away during the party that evening. I’m supposed to talk to a few people early on, and there’s an incident where someone else spills a drink on me and I go to change. I have to be back by the time the clock strikes eleven, but that