Chapter 4. Choosing a Husband

I crossed my legs on the brown leather couch.

Tossing my hair back, I flashed Dean Fletcher a wide smile without acknowledging Colt’s presence.

“You look stunning, La Rose.” Dean’s deep voice dripped with secret promises.

“Really?” I fanned my face comically, and he let out a deep laugh.

“Thank you,” I said finally, my hand slowly running down my thigh.

Dean was not as confident as his brother. He blushed and looked away.

My eyes finally met Colt, and his gaze was piercing. But I remained poker-faced, and tension descended into the room.

Still, he did not look away.

He sat with careless arrogance, legs spread, shirtless as always, his ringed fingers drumming on the empty seat beside him.

Did the man not own a shirt? He wore every damn thing without one. Suits, coats, and now a knee-length blazer.

Dean cleared his throat and laughed nervously. “I know this is an awkward situation, and an odd question, but have you decided which one of us you’ll marry?”

“Why is it odd?” I turned to him with a frown.

“What?” He blinked.

I stared, waiting.

“I mean.” Dean stumbled over his words. “This only used to happen centuries ago.”

“Do you mean modern women do not deserve to pick the best of the bunch?”

“I never said that.” Dean hurriedly began to speak, but paused, squinting at me.

He looked conflicted, unable to decide if I had just insulted him.

I smiled slowly, “I am afraid we will have to do more archaic things today.” I looked from one brother to the other.

“I cannot choose between you two.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“I took great care in assessing both your qualities. Trust me.” I grabbed my bag, “I have a chart illustration if you would like to see.”

“No, no,” they said in unison.

I smiled and placed my bag down on the side table again. “You're both wonderful men,” I shook my head for effect. “But you’re equally matched.”

They watched me silently.

“Except for one important factor. But I have no information on that.”

“What is it?” Dean Fletcher scooted to the edge of his seat.

“I’d like to see you both arm wrestle to determine who is stronger.”

For several seconds, both men were frozen in place as a hush settled in the private suite. Colt was the first one to break out of the ice mold. “Is this fun for you?”

“You can choose a boxing match instead. I only want to be certain I am marrying the stronger brother.”

“Why does that matter, Miss Auclair?" Dean Fletcher squinted in confusion.

“Because every woman desires a strong husband capable of protecting her.”

“This is ridiculous!” Colt shot to his feet.

I stood up, covering the distance between us till our faces were just one inch apart.

“I am bringing my family’s wealth, our legacy that has been carefully maintained over generations, to the Fletchers, a struggling giant, and you think my request is ridiculous?” Our eyes locked.

“Let’s calm down.” Dean Fletcher moved to separate us.

“I am sorry for wasting your time, gentlemen.” I turned around and grabbed my bag.

“Olivia,” Dean Fletcher stepped in front of me. “My brother can be quite passionate sometimes.” He winced, running his hand through his hair in distress.

“That is bad for business,” my voice came out flat.

“I know.”

“You know?” Colt spat. “I am not the one with a struggling business.”

“Bring your voice down, brother,” Dean said calmly, but the look in his eyes frightened me for a second.

“Or?” Colt swaggered up to us.

My back stiffened, painfully away from his body heat and how close he stood now.

Dean laughed darkly, “It would be stupid to waste this rage. Let’s measure dick on that table.”

“Sure.” Colt shrugged and turned around.

He leaned in close to me and inhaled deeply. My fingers tightened around my purse strap.

“Just how wet are you?” He murmured in my ear. “It smells good.”

I was struggling so hard now my head began to drum with a headache. He brushed my hair back gently. “I will win, wed you, and fuck that arrogance out of you.”

I inhaled unintentionally.

“Good girl,” he smiled coyly, walking away.

I could barely concentrate as the brothers prepared to arm wrestle. The room had become unbearably hot as Colt took off his jacket, exposing his burly, tattooed arms, hard as timber.

I painfully resisted pressing my knees together because my legs were in full view. By the time Colt grabbed his brother’s arm, thick forearm veins standing out, I was sweating.

This was torture and definitely a bad idea.

I was so wet now I was grateful my dress was black, but terrified the leather seat might have evidence when I stood up.

The brothers struggled for a couple of seconds.

Then Colt groaned, pushing Dean’s hand down. It was such an erotic sound that it sent electricity coursing down my back. He turned to me with a victorious smile as Dean looked away.

Despite Colt winning, I was supposed to choose his brother. That had been the plan before I even met them.

But now I wonder if I could just take the risk of choosing Colt.

I shook my head. My lust was interfering with logic.

“Well done.” I smiled at Colt for the first time, standing up. “But I cannot marry you.”

“What?” Both brothers said in unison.

I took a step towards Dean and stood by his side. “You will make a great husband, Dean Fletcher.” I batted my lashes at him, and the man literally melted.

“What the hell do you think you are doing, Olivia?” Colt thundered.

Dean turned frosty eyes towards him now. “That’s done. You will speak to my future wife with respect.”

“What?” Colt chuckled in disbelief, covering the distance between us.

This was supposed to be my first moment of victory, so why was my heart breaking at the hurt look in Colt’s eyes?

I turned, hurrying away. But Colt grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

Dean pushed him off. “And you will keep a respectful distance away from her.

I bolted.

The look of betrayal in Colt’s eyes was doing something to me.

“Olivia,” Dean called, running after me, but I did not stop till he grabbed my waist and spun me around. I grabbed his face and kissed him.

They were brothers. They had to be similar.

Dean Fletcher would drive Colt away from my mind.

But his kiss was slow, nothing at all like Colt’s, still fresh in my memory from eleven years ago.

I deepened the kiss, my hand landing on his abs and traveling downwards where we stood in the empty lobby.

Dean bucked against me, but when I grabbed his dick, it was limp.

I frowned, stroking it, my fingers moving fast. But it remained heavy and flaccid in my palm.

I flinched away from him, my cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“No. It’s not you, Olivia,” Dean said, hurriedly. “I find you hot as fuck.”

I frowned at him, still too stunned to speak.

“You have agreed to be my wife. So you should know this.” He paused and ran his hand over his face, his skin turning as red as mine must have looked. “I have Erectile Dysfunction.”