Page 107 of Mine to Worship

He’s impossible in the sweetest way possible. I nod and he rolls out of bed.

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

That gets him moving and he steps inside the walk-in closet. I pick a shirt of his and accompany him downstairs. I watch him step inside the elevator through the security cameras. Kian is so damn sexy. That confidence and contained danger radiating with every swagger of his legs, his body a work of art wrapped in the finest fabrics, those gray hunter’s eyes. I have never seen a more beautiful man in my life, and he’s my husband. Mine.

Bent over the orange juice maker, my eyes catch movement and I cry out in surprise when I spot my brother-in-law.

“Oh my God. Brandon!” My heartbeats normalize. “Stop moving like a ninja.”

“I waved and shouted your name, but no, you were all over that machine. I have never seen someone so engrossed in a juicer.”

I throw an orange at his face.

He catches it midair and suppresses a smile before he perches on top of the stool in front of me, bags resting under his eyes. He has changed in the time since we last saw each other. Every line of his features has hardened.

“Mikaela still giving you a hard time?” I ask.

“She’s my punishment for whatever karmic debt I have from all of my previous lives.”

“She can’t be that bad.”

He rolls his sleeves and huffs.

“Yesterday we flew to L.A. to watch the progress of the new hotel and she looked at the cement, looked at me and said, at least one of you is doing its job. All because I came five minutes late, and she had to wait. Imagine the horror of waiting in a private jet for, I repeat, five fucking minutes, while I was on the phone with Kian.”

I bend over with laughter while he pins me with a serious stare and adds, “She’s like the female version of Kian. I have to work double to win their respect.”

“And why do you want that?”

He props his elbow on the table, his cheek in his palm, a classic watch on his wrist, complementing his cream jacket and a polo underneath, and sighs. “I like to prove people wrong.”

“She’s Kian’s assistant, right?”

“If she were mine, having her on my case twenty-four seven, I’d throw myself out of the window. I am fucking ecstatic he’s back to keep his bulldog in check.”

I have to meet this woman who has Brandon feeling like that.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says.

In the underground garage, we climb into his car and he says, looking scared, “You’re not going to pop that baby out on the drive, are you?”

“Brandon!” I shake my head in exasperation and buckle myself in.

He drives around for a while. I get the impression it is more to clear his thoughts than anything else. He ends up parking in front of the aquarium. He buys us refreshments and some snacks on the way in. We walk around until we find a bench and sit to watch the fish behind the glass.

“I kind of buried myself in work, but the gap is there, reminding me something is missing. I feel so damn alone.”

“But you’re not. You have me, and Kian, and our friends.” I loop my hand around his, and he frowns in thought.

“You’re so damn easy to love and talk to.” He puts his head on my shoulder and I grab his hand, slowly rubbing his palm with my thumb.

“We’re family. I will always be there for you. And if we stay here or move to the end of the world, it doesn’t matter. You will always have a place with us.”

“So you’re not going to divorce him?”

“Ha! I’m keeping him. Kian’s all mine.” My daughter kicks, and I soothe her by rubbing circles on my belly. “And hers. She’s needy like him.”

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