Page 9 of Marrying His Brother

The door opens and he steps inside, his expression inscrutable, all business. He’s wearing a sharp suit, every inch of him put together, like nothing could ruffle him.

His dark brown, slightly tousled hair that falls just above his collar, giving him a rugged, sexy look. It didn’t help that even in a suit that was obviously made for him, the fabric seemed slight strained over his muscles, emphasizing and drawing the eye to what she could only imagine lay under the fabric.

“Good morning, Andrew,” I say, keeping my tone professional, quickly disregarding the path my thoughts had taken.

“Emily,” he says, walking toward my desk. He sits down without hesitation, his movements precise, deliberate. He doesn’t waste time with pleasantries, and for a second, I wonder if he ever does.

“I appreciate you coming in,” I start, clasping my hands together on the desk in front of me. “I’ve had some time to think about your proposal.”

His eyes narrow slightly, but he remains silent, waiting for me to continue. Those sharp blue eyes don’t miss a thing, and I can feel him gauging my every word, every move.

“It’s unconventional,” I say, searching for the right way to phrase it. “But I’m not dismissing it outright.”

“It is unconventional,” Andrew agrees, as if we’re discussing the sale of a property. “But we both know what our families need. It’s practical, and right now, practicality is what matters.”

I lean forward slightly. “And you’re comfortable with that? With marrying someone you barely know for the sake of business?”

He shrugs, not missing a beat. “Comfort isn’t part of the equation. This is about what needs to be done.”

I stare at him for a moment, trying to read between the lines, trying to see if there’s anything else behind his calm, calculated demeanor. But Andrew Bennett is an enigma, and I’m not sure I’ll ever crack that exterior.

“And what happens after the year is up?” I ask, leaning back again. “What then?”

“We go our separate ways, as we agreed,” he says simply. “No strings. Our families get what they need, and we move on.”

It sounds so straightforward when he says it. So clean. Andrew seems to have worked out the whole thing in his head.

“What about the living arrangement? Would we live in the same house?” I ask.

Andrew frowns. ““My house is bigger. It would make more sense for you to move in with me.”

“No,” is my instant response. “I’m not moving into your house.”

He waves off my protests. “We can fight about that later,” he says, like the logistics of where we live are a minor detail compared to the rest.

I take a breath. “What about sleeping arrangements?” My voice falters. I hate how unsure I sound, but this is the reality we’re discussing—a marriage, even if it’s just on paper.

That’s when I see it. A smile. The first time I’ve ever seen him smile, and damn it, he’s incredibly handsome when he does. Thesmile softens his otherwise serious face, making him look more human, less animalistic statue.

For a second, I forget the stoic man who walked in earlier.

“Surely,” he teases, his voice light for the first time, “You don’t think this is a ruse to get you into my bed?”

Heat rushes to my face. “That’s not what I’m saying,” I protest, embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him.

“Relax,” he says, the hint of a smile still on his lips. “Different rooms. We’ll only be married in name, Emily.” His lighthearted voice changes back to his business tone, “But, don’t do anything that will embarrass me, or our families.”

That wipes the away my embarrassment. The insinuation stings, and I can’t stop the flash of anger. I lean forward, my eyes narrowing. “What do you take me for?”

Andrew’s expression shifts, what was left of his smile fading completely. His eyes lock onto mine, serious again. “I don’t know you, Emily. And you don’t know me. I might have researched you, but there’s only so much a search brings up.”

I open my mouth to argue, but then close it again. He’s right. We don’t know each other. Not really. The craziness of this entire proposal hits me all over again. We’re talking about marriage—an actual marriage—and we’re practically strangers.

I exhale, leaning back in my chair, trying to calm myself. “We really don’t know each other, do we?”

Chapter 5: Andrew

I like that Emily is asking all these questions. It shows she’s cautious, practical. I want her to go into this marriage knowing exactly what it is and what it’s not.

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