I shake my head as the real Sean comes back into focus. “Fucking,” I say with an arched brow. “That’s real romantic.”
“Do you want romance, Maggie?”
Romance. Now there’s a word that feels completely foreign to me. No man has ever done anything romantic for me. I never saw my dad do anything romantic for my mom. Romance is something that only exists in books and movies. Even though I have low expectations, I can’t help the way my heart aches at the idea of being desired for more than what my body can do. To be treated like the princesses in Disney movies, swept off my feet and cared for.
And here I have Sean, the first of these brothers who say they want a harem-style relationship with me and all he’s talking about is fucking.
I’m not surprised, but I am disappointed.
“Romance is not something I’m that familiar with.”
His eyebrow raises, but I can tell he’s out of his depth. Fucking, he can do. Romance, not so much.
Would I like to fuck Sean? Absolutely. The slide of his tongue over mine was enough to make me wet but not enough to make me submit. In fact, the mention of fucking has made me adamant that Sean will be the last to have that privilege, if I even get that far. It’ll be so much fun making him wait and maybe he’ll learn something in the process.
“I think, Sean, that I’m going to find John.”
I ease myself out of his arms and he cocks his head to one side, watching me with amusement. “I see. You let me warm you up, and now you’re off to find my brother.”
“Isn’t that how these group situations work?” I ask innocently. “You’ve got to be good at sharing, haven’t you Sean.”
“Oh, I’m good at sharing,” he says. “You’ll see one day, just how good at sharing I can be.”
I bend to kiss his lips again feeling all the sass in me well up. “I look forward to it.”
As I leave the room, I don’t glance back to witness his expression, but I’m certain that Sean is smiling because nothing seems to faze that man, even rejection.
14
I have one foot on the bottom step when there's a knock at the front door.
As I'm the only one around, I open it, finding a huge man with a black beard and round belly overspilling his snug jeans on the doorstep. He's facing to the side and whirls around when he hears the click of the latch. I can see he's surprised that I've opened the door. Is he one of Dad's friends passing by to check on the boys?
"Can I help you?"
"You might be able to. I'm looking to speak to any one of the men who live at this address."
"What about?" I ask, not really liking his patronizing expression or the way he's taken another step up as though he's trying to physically intimidate me.
"They know what it's about. Nothing to worry your pretty head with."
"My pretty head will decide what I need to worry about and what I don't," I say, putting my hands on my hips.
The man grins, but it's not an amused expression. He's leering at me as though breaking me might be the sweetest thing he's ever thought about doing. "If you don't own this house, you got no interest in what I've got to say." It's patronizing to the core, and he's about to get a shock.
"Well, I do own this house, so maybe you'd better spit out whatever you've come over here to gas about."
The man's eyebrows rise momentarily, and then he seems to compose himself because he takes a step back and squares his shoulders. "Those boys tell you about my offer, then?"
"Offer?" I frown, not liking this man, his words or attitude, one bit.
"My offer to buy this place?"
Well, now it's me who's on the back foot because I know nothing about any offer, but I don't want this man to know I'm being kept in the dark.
"Ah… the offer," I say, nodding knowingly, despite my lack of knowledge.
"So you're considering it? Honestly, you won't get a better price. No one else around here has the money to do what I'm planning. If you put this place on the open market, you'd end up getting half of what I'm offering."
"I wouldn't say I'm considering anything right now. We've had a bereavement, and our focus is on that."
"I'm sorry for your loss," the man says, although he does it with an impatience in his voice that makes his sympathy sound hollow.
"Thank you." I take a step back, wanting to ask the man for his details, but how do I do that without him realizing that I have no idea who he is. I guess if he's that interested in the place, he'll be back, and by then, the boys should have opened up about the offer. After all, the house belongs to all of us. "We'll be in touch," I say firmly.