Marrying My Almost Brother-in-Law

I stared at my reflection in the bridal suite mirror, adjusting my diamond earrings one final time. The woman looking back at me had perfectly applied makeup, not a hair out of place, and the kind of composure that came from years of high-stakes business negotiations.

This is just another merger, I reminded myself, smoothing down the silk of my wedding dress. A strategic alliance between Rivera Agricultural Tech and Sterling Ranch.

Knox Sterling wasn't exactly Prince Charming, but he was suitable. Mature, established, and most importantly, he came with the kind of agricultural heritage that would legitimize our company's expansion into organic farming. Love was a luxury I couldn't afford—not when my family's business empire was on the line.

A sharp knock interrupted my thoughts. "Ms. Rivera?" My assistant Maria burst through the door, her face flushed and panicked. "We have a problem. A big problem."

I turned away from the mirror, already shifting into crisis management mode. "What kind of problem?"

"Knox is gone." The words tumbled out in a rush. "He left this morning with some woman—apparently they've been seeing each other for months. They're on a plane to Europe."

The words hit me like ice water. Gone? I felt the familiar burn of humiliation rise in my chest, quickly followed by a surge of pure fury. How dare he? Not only had he left me standing at the altar, but he'd potentially destroyed months of delicate business negotiations.

Think, Seraphina. Think like the CEO you are.

"Get me Robert Sterling on the phone," I said, my voice steady despite the chaos in my head. "Now."

Twenty minutes later, I sat across from Knox's parents in their ranch house parlor, watching Robert Sterling's weathered face crumble with embarrassment while his wife dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

"I am so incredibly sorry, Seraphina," Robert said, his Texas drawl thick with shame. "That boy has never shown a lick of responsibility, but this... this is unconscionable."

"The contracts—" I began.

"Are still valid," he interrupted quickly. "The merger can proceed as planned. We just need to..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "We need to find an alternative arrangement."

Margaret Sterling looked up from her handkerchief. "We have a proposal. It's unconventional, but it might work."

I raised an eyebrow. Unconventional in Texas ranch country usually meant something that would make Wall Street lawyers break out in hives.

"Our younger son, Theo," Robert continued. "He's a good boy. Just graduated from agricultural college, specializes in organic farming—exactly what your company needs. He could... step in."

"Step in?" I repeated slowly.

"Marry you instead."

The suggestion was so absurd that I almost laughed. Almost. But then I saw the desperate hope in their eyes, and my business instincts kicked into overdrive. The contracts could be salvaged. The merger could proceed. All it would cost me was... what? My pride?

I've sacrificed worse for less.

But then reality hit. "How old is this son of yours?"

"Twenty-one," Margaret said quietly.

Twenty-one. I was twenty-four and felt ancient compared to that number. The age gap wasn't huge, but the experience gap... I'd gone from potential sister-in-law to wife of a boy who probably still got carded at bars.

"Where is he?" I heard myself asking.

"Getting ready," Robert said, relief flooding his voice. "Just in case you agreed."

The ceremony began an hour later than scheduled. I walked down the aisle on unsteady legs, my bouquet trembling slightly in my hands. The small gathering of family and business associates pretended not to notice the substitution, but I could feel their curious stares burning into my skin.

And there, at the altar, stood Theo Sterling.

My first thought was that he looked nothing like his older brother. Where Knox was all swagger and practiced charm, Theo seemed to be fighting the urge to bolt. His hands shook as he tugged at his hastily altered suit jacket, and when our eyes met, he actually blushed.

Oh God, he's practically a child.

But as I got closer, I noticed other things. The way he straightened his shoulders when he saw me approaching. The genuine warmth in his brown eyes, even through his obvious terror. And when he reached out to take my hand, his voice was steady despite everything.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, so quietly only I could hear.

The officiant began the ceremony, and I found myself going through the motions on autopilot. But when we reached the vows, the reality of what I was doing crashed over me like a wave.

I was marrying a stranger. A boy who was supposed to be my brother-in-law. A twenty-one-year-old who looked like he might pass out at any moment.

When the officiant said, "You may kiss the bride," Theo hesitated for just a moment before leaning in. The kiss was brief, awkward, and so obviously his first in a formal setting that I almost felt sorry for him.

What have I gotten myself into?

Back in what was now our bedroom, the silence stretched between us like a canyon. I sat on the edge of the bed, still in my wedding dress, while Theo stood by the window looking like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "I want you to know," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "this is just... I mean, I'm only doing this to fulfill the contract my brother broke. Three years from now, we can divorce quietly, and you'll be free to live your life however you want."

I studied his face, looking for any sign of ulterior motives. All I saw was sincerity and bone-deep embarrassment. Poor kid didn't ask for any of this either.

"That works for me," I replied, trying to keep my tone businesslike. "We'll make this arrangement as painless as possible for both of us."

He nodded eagerly, then hesitated. "I should also mention... I have some particular habits. I'm very neat, very private. I think it would be best if we kept separate bedrooms."

Separate bedrooms? Part of me was relieved—this whole situation was complicated enough without adding physical intimacy to the mix. But another part of me felt oddly... rejected? Was I so unappealing that even a twenty-one-year-old ranch boy didn't want to share a bed with me?

"That's... practical," I managed.

"Good." He moved toward the dresser and began gathering some clothes. "I'll just get my things and move to the guest room."

I watched him pack with efficient, nervous movements, telling myself this was exactly what I wanted. No complications. No messy emotions. Just a clean business arrangement that would benefit both our families.

Then he pulled off his suit jacket.

I wasn't prepared for what I saw underneath.

The formal shirt clung to broad shoulders and a chest that definitely didn't belong to the scrawny college boy I'd been imagining. His forearms, revealed as he rolled up his sleeves, were corded with muscle from years of ranch work. When he reached up to grab something from the top shelf, his shirt rode up just enough to reveal a strip of tanned, flat stomach.

This is not a boy.