Page 13 of Marrying His Brother

I tense up, gripping the steering wheel as I watch them, my heart racing. I expected tiny, white, huggable dogs—the kind you could cuddle on a couch—not these gigantic beasts with enough muscle to knock over a small tree.

Their barking echoes around the quiet lawn as they circle my car. My breath catches in my throat. Are they trained? Are they going to attack?

Then, Andrew strides over, completely unfazed by the chaos his dogs are causing. He knocks on the window, his expression calm, but amused.

With trembling fingers, I lower the window a few inches, just enough to speak to him but not enough for those dogs to stick their snouts inside.

“Are you coming in?” Andrew asks.

I glance at the two massive dogs circling the car, their tails wagging but their sheer size making my heart race. “Do they bite?” I ask, my voice smaller than I intend it to be. I’m trying to sound calm, but the panic bubbling up is hard to suppress.

Andrew chuckles, shaking his head. “No, they don’t bite. Bruno and Bear are harmless—big, friendly giants.”

I eye the dogs warily, still not convinced. “They don’t look harmless.”

“They’re just excited to meet you,” he says, with a smile that almost makes me want to believe him. “Come on, Emily. They’re good boys, I promise.”

I take a deep breath, glancing at the dogs one more time before slowly lowering the window the rest of the way. “If you say so,” I murmur, still not entirely convinced as I prepare to step out.

As I open the car door, Bruno and Bear immediately bound over, their tails wagging so hard it’s like they’re going to knock something over. I tense, unsure, but then Andrew whistles, and just like that, the dogs sit.

“They’re trained,” he says. “You’ll be fine.”

I slowly step out of the car, feeling a little ridiculous for being so nervous, but the moment both dogs lean in and give me a friendly nudge, I relax—just a little. They’re huge, but I can tell they’re just trying to be friendly.

“See? Harmless,” Andrew says, patting Bruno on the head. “Now, come on. Let’s head inside before they overwhelm you anymore.”

As we step inside, the first thing that hits me is how unexpectedly warm the house feels. I don’t know what I imagined—maybesomething ultra-modern, cold, sleek—but this? This is cozy. It’s the last thing I expected from Andrew.

The entryway opens into a spacious living room bathed in soft, natural light, with exposed wooden beams stretching across the ceiling. The walls are a soft, muted gray, creating a calming atmosphere, while the hardwood floors add a natural warmth to the space.

There’s a large stone fireplace against one wall, the kind you’d expect in a cabin retreat, and on the mantle are a few framed photographs. Personal touches I didn’t expect.

A plush, oversized couch dominates the room, with cozy throws draped over the back, and cushions that look so comfortable it’s hard not to want to sink into them. There’s a bookshelf along one wall, filled with what looks like a collection of classic novels, history books, and a few military memoirs.

The room smells faintly of pine, mixed with the scent of fresh coffee lingering in the air, giving it a homey feel. The large windows let in just the right amount of light, and outside, I can see a glimpse of the backyard, which looks just as meticulously maintained as the front.

“You have a beautiful home,” I say, surprise in my voice.

Andrew closes the door behind us, looking slightly amused by my reaction. “What, expecting something different?”

I shrug, glancing around again. “I don’t know, maybe something more, minimalist? Sterile? I think I was expecting the pristine, sharp, fancy sort or place that makes you afraid to drop a single crumb.”

He smirks, “Ah! You were expecting my parents house.” walking past me toward the kitchen, which is open and inviting, with a large farmhouse sink and granite countertops. “I’m full of surprises.”

I nod, a little abashed. I can’t argue with that. The house is a mix of rustic and modern, but it feels like a home. A real home. That, I definitely wasn’t expecting.

Andrew hands me a bottle of water, his expression softening for just a moment. “Thanks. It’s home.”

He leads me through the house, giving me the grand tour. I trail behind him, still taking in every detail. Each room we pass through surprises me more—there’s so much personality here.

We make our way downstairs, where he opens a door that leads to what must be every fitness enthusiast’s dream: a fully equipped gym. Rows of dumbbells, a treadmill, a punching bag in one corner, and sleek, modern machines fill the space.

“You really don’t mess around,” I say, genuinely impressed.

“Gotta stay in shape,” he replies with a shrug, though I can see the pride in his eyes.

I can’t help but smile. Maybe moving in won’t be so bad after all. Andrew’s home is nothing like I imagined. It’s warm, inviting, and full of character. A far cry from Daniel’s no frill bachelor pad.

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