His shoulders slump slightly and his eyes turn glassy. “I hated my father for a long time,” he admits. “When I was a kid, he would show up sometimes, but only when he wanted to or wanted to pretend like he was some prodigal father returning for the benefit of his child. It was alwaysan act. It was never real.” Something changes in his voice; it hollows out slightly with his next words, “The worst time was when he showed up with a woman on his arm and introduced her to me as my new stepmother.”
His lip curls and I don’t need to ask to know how the meeting went. Was it because of her? Or because of his father? My gut is telling me it’s probably both.
“The performance he put on was epic. I was maybe six or seven and I really thought my dad was back, that I’d have a dad now. But it didn’t last,” his voice takes on a wistful quality for all the things taken from him, “it never lasted.”
“And now he might get the farm,” my words scrape against my throat.
I hate the idea of someone undeserving getting the farm Rook and his family has put so much into. Sure, he might be blood, but it sounds like Rook’s father would be the worst thing to ever happen to the farm and the land.
There are too many people selling off their land because they can no longer keep their farms and ranches going. It’s an epidemic that people don’t even know about.
When Rook first walked me through his business plan, I wondered if the changes he was making would help the farm become more sustainable. It’s hard to evolve in an industry when changes are slow to come, while demand increases but the output remains the same.
“Yeah,” he sighs, “now he might get the farm.”
“Unless you get married?”
Saying those words out loud has my heart sinking. The thought of Rook marrying someone, even just to enable him to take ownership of his family’s farm, hurts. I hate this feeling.
I want to reach up and rub my chest, but I stop myself. Barely.
The thought of him marrying me is fleeting because I push it away. There’s no way. Right?
“Unless I get married,” he echoes me, and runs his fingers through his hair. I want to do the same, but I keep my hands on my lap. His eyes go unfocused as he looks across the room without really seeing it. “The problem is that I’ve been solely focused on building my business for the last few years. When I’ve allowed myself to think about it over the last few days, there’s only one person I would marry and that’s you.”
His eyes widen right along with mine before his gaze focuses back on me. The way his mouth opens and closes would be hilarious if the words he said weren’t worming their way into my mind.
Did he really just say the only person he could imagine marrying isme? Is this real life?
What the fuck is going on?
“Okay,” I breathe out, the words of my heart completely bypassing my brain, “I’ll marry you.”
The moment I realize what I’ve actually just spoken out into the universe, my hands come up to cover my mouth. If I could pluck each word out of the air I would, but since I can’t do that, trying to block any more from escaping is about all I can do.
“I can’t believe I just said that out loud.” Even with my hands over my mouth, it seems I’m incapable of controlling my words. This must be happening because of Rook; he’s messing with my filter.
That’s not a good thing.
Something shifts on Rook’s face; his expression going from shock to something softer, something that almost looks like hope. My stomach flips and makes me feel all out of sorts for a moment.
As much as I want to try to walk those words back, to take them away and hide them in a dark corner that memories don’t touch, I also don’t want to take them back. Because the thought of Rook marrying someone, anyone, other than me makes me nauseous. I don’t think I could watch it happen and not lose myself.
It might not make a lot of sense, but I know it’s true.
Hestudies my face carefully and something mischievous fills his gaze. I’m not sure what he sees, but his smile starts to grow slowly.
“That’s perfect,” his words are deliberate, like he’s placed them at my feet with careful fingers. He looks around the room for a moment, but there’s no regret on his features. “You’ll have to move in here,” he says it like it’s simple, easy, “at least while we’re married.”
I ignore the last part of the sentence because I can’t think about the end of our marriage, even if it is inevitable.
This is an arrangement. All I’ll be doing is helping Rook get what should have been his in the first place. I’ve never heard of such a clause, but I certainly can’t judge his grandfather’s wishes.
“You can change,” his voice breaks slightly on the word before he clears his throat, “anything in the house you want to change. It’s been like this since I first came here and it could use some updating.”
I reach over and cover his hand with mine, the action feeling so natural that I’m not even aware of it until I feel the warmth of his skin under my hand. “I don’t need to change anything,” I assure him.
“No,” he shakes his head and his brown eyes find mine, “I want you to. I’ve been thinking about it, but I have no idea where to start. I want to make this place ours, since you’ll be my wife. You deserve a place that can feel like a home, considering the amazing thing you’ve agreed to do for me.”
