Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set) - Page 185

I studied him, wondering what he wasn’t telling me. I began to feel guilty that I’d been distant from him since my encounter with Brooke. Were there things going on in his or Brooke’s life that made her returning home and getting a job crucial? Was he sick?

I had a reputation for being fair and a stickler for rules. I didn’t ask Sinclair on a date because that would have been inappropriate. Offering Brooke a job without announcing an opening and going through the right protocol was wrong. It was an abuse of my authority, especially since Frank wasn’t just my friend, but our families had been friends forever.

So, I was not sure what got into me when I said, “Send her here when she’s back in town, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Frank’s face lit up. “She’ll be home for good next week. I’ll send her then.” He stood and reached out his hand to shake mine.

I stood, gripping his hand but feeling like shit. I betrayed him. I wanted to think that offering Brooke a job would make up for that. But as the beautiful young blonde woman’s image came into my head, I couldn’t help but think this had disaster written all over it.

“I’m happy to help,” I said, mustering a smile.

He turned to leave but then stopped and looked at me. “Oh, and can we keep this little visit a secret? I don’t want Brooke thinking she got a job from a favor. I want her to think she earned it.”

I tapped her resume. “She did.”

Frank grinned, and again, guilt lanced my gut. I was going to hell for sure.

When he left, I sank into my chair and self-flagellated by mentally berating myself. What the fuck was I doing hiring her? Not just because I could get called on the ethics of it, but also, I still dreamed about her sweet pussy. How was I going to work alongside her with her scent and the taste of her sweet juice when she came was still so vivid in my brain. I had to hope to hell that crush she had on me was long gone.

2

Brooke

It was strange being back in my own room. Not that I hadn’t stayed here whenever I came home to visit my father, but now I was home to stay. If I was going to live here until I got settled into my new job, I’d need to redecorate it. The pink frills and posters of pop stars weren’t who I was anymore.

Not that I was a big city slicker after spending four years for college in Chicago. The truth was, I liked being home in rural Nebraska. The air was clean. The area was less crowded. And of course, I’d be able to see Mo again.

When my infatuation with Mo first started, it was similar to having a crush on a movie star, emotionally strong an

d yet, unattainable. After that night nearly four years ago, Mo wasn’t a dream or fantasy anymore. He was real, and my love for him grew. But I’d have to be an idiot not to know that the fact that I hadn’t seen him at all over the last few years was by his design. The first few times I returned home, I was disappointed not to see him. I knew he’d been bothered by what happened, but I was sure if I could see him, I’d be able to reassure him that we weren’t wrong, and then win him over.

After a psychology class, I was able to see the situation more from his side, and I felt guilty for putting him in a situation in which he felt he’d betrayed my father or taken advantage of me. I would have liked the chance to talk to him about that, but he’d been MIA whenever I was home.

“Mo is busy with being mayor and his ranch,” my father said last year when I asked about it.

“That’s it?” I’d known my father was unaware of what happened between Mo and me, although I was a bit surprised Mo hadn’t confessed and apologized. He seemed to be a Boy Scout when it came to ethics and acting right.

“What else would it be? Since Shelley left, he’s kept himself busy.”

“Does he date?”

“Not that I’ve seen or heard. But you know, once bitten, twice shy.”

I wondered if Mo’s self-imposed singlehood now was by design or a lack of opportunity. When he saw me again, would that little spark that one cold winter night still be there? Would he still look at me as his friend’s daughter? Or worse, a girl?

I shook my head at myself, looking in the mirror. “Seriously, Brooke, you need to get over this schoolgirl crush.” Now a few years out from that night, I had to concede that I’d been a silly girl, and yet, I couldn’t get him out of my mind or my heart. He was once again relegated to an unattainable crush like young girls had on celebrities. Sometimes I wondered if that night ever really happened. Maybe it was just a vivid dream.

The point was, I was older and wiser, and though I understood that Mo was off-limits to me, even if after all this time, I still thought about him and wished I’d had a chance. Truth be told, I was eager to see him again. A part of me hoped that when I did, my infatuation would come to an end. Another part of me still had that dream of him seeing me and being unable to keep his hands off me, and then he would sweep me off my feet.

I studied myself in the dark skirt and white blouse. Would he see a sexy secretary or a young girl playing grown-up?

I was excited about this job, and not just because I’d finally be able to find out if this infatuation with Mo was just a lingering schoolgirl crush or something more. I was eager for this job because I thought I’d have to start at the bottom of some lowly department. Lucky for me, there was an opening in the mayor’s office. I didn’t even have to interview. Of course, I had really good experience. I couldn’t imagine anyone in Salvation had equal experience since I was able to get in my internships in Chicago.

As I slipped on the coat that went with my skirt and studied myself again. I couldn’t help but remember how Mo’s hands had felt on me. I shook my head. “Brooke, you’re hopeless.”

I was an idiot to think I could seduce Mo. He was now my boss, and knowing him, he’d have all sorts of rules about that. He was also my dad’s friend. I didn’t have a problem with that, but maybe my father would. I’d been embarrassingly shameless that winter night, although I found it hard to feel bad about it. The memory of Mo’s mouth on me stayed with me and brought me more pleasure when I needed to pleasure myself.

I grabbed a quick cup of coffee and toast, seeing a note from my dad about having a good first day. He’d left long ago to deal with the cattle.

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