Brooke stared down on me, her white teeth biting into her plump bottom lip, making me forget that she was Frank’s daughter and only twenty-two-years-old. I wanted to bite her lip myself. I wanted to taste her sweet mouth and go down on her wet pussy again. Jesus fucking Christ, Mo, I chastised myself as I shifted in my seat because my dick agreed with my thoughts.
“You know…we could get married.”
I was so lost in trying to deal with my sudden lustful thought and erection that it took me a minute to process what she said.
“What?”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “You could marry me.”
8
Brooke
I was trying not to be offended by the shocked look on Mo’s face. Then it occurred to me just how crazy the idea was. Well, not crazy, but selfish. I was suggesting he toss aside his bachelorhood so he could give up his money to my family. Thinking of it that way, I felt like a self-centered fool.
“I’m sorry. That’s selfish of me,” I said. But, oh, how I wanted to do it. All of a sudden, a rush of emotion and excitement had come over me at the idea of being his wife. It was a reminder that I was still acting like a silly schoolgirl.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been talking to Sinclair with all this fake marriage stuff.”
Fake? Not for me. “I was just acting on impulse. You said you needed a wife to get your money. But it was wrong for me to offer. It would be too much to ask of you. Not just your money but getting married.” I sh
ook my head, feeling sillier and sillier as the seconds passed.
“It’s a valid response. It’s the truth really but—”
I waved my hand. “Forget I said anything. It’s too much to ask. I mean, there’s nothing in it for you.”
His gaze grazed over my body, and for a second, I wondered if maybe I was wrong about his indifference to me.
“I just got the feeling you didn’t want Stark to buy the land, but then Sinclair said you’d supported him—”
“I don’t support him.” His eyes darkened slightly. “I hoped he’d bring new jobs to the area, but the people of Salvation indicated they didn’t want what he was offering. He showed his true colors, and I don’t trust him. I especially don’t want him as a neighbor.”
Oh, well. That was something.
“He doesn’t seem the ranching type,” I said, wanting to explore his animosity toward Mr. Stark.
“He won’t ranch. He’ll tear your home down and build something else.”
“Something that could hurt your ranch?”
He looked up at me again. “Yes. Probably.” He swore under his breath.
“So…this marriage idea could help you, too.” God, I was a glutton for punishment setting myself up for him to reject my idea again.
“Fake marriage or not, your father would kill me.”
There he was with the fake again. “He might not since you’re helping him save the farm.”
He bit his lower lip. “If you could stay living with him, I might have considered it.”
I swallowed, not sure if I should be happy that he seemed to be considering it or annoyed that he thought he’d do it if I wouldn’t live with him.
“It would have to look like a real marriage.” He looked up at me. “Good luck pulling that off.”
I frowned. “Why?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m old enough to be your father.”