Page 40 of Conflagration
He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, instead Kale and Lucy took care of that with Jacob’s birth.”
I smile, remembering the way I stumbled upon Lucy, obviously in labor and in pain. I held her hand until the paramedics came, and not long after, Jacob Austin Montgomery was born. The day Lucy asked me to be his godfather was one of the best days of my life, and I can’t get enough of the little guy.
“Hey, Branson?” he says, apparently aware that I was lost in my thoughts.
“What’s up?”
“I want you to be my best man,” he says, and I nearly do a double take.
“You…what? Me?” I ask, shock filling me.
He swallows hard then sits on the chair across from me. Leaning forward, he places his elbows on his knees. “The way I see it, I wouldn’t be one week away from marrying the woman of my dreams if it weren’t for you.”
I scoff, but he just shakes his head at me.
“I know I was angry about it for a long time, but if it weren’t for you, I’d have been the one miserable for all these years, so thanks for taking one for the team, bro.” His grin returns, and I’m somewhat floored he can joke about this. I guess that’s what the love of a good woman will do for you.
I sit back against my chair and blow out a deep breath before looking up at him. “I didn’t know, you know?” I begin. He looks puzzled, so I back up a bit. “That day… That was the day I found out about Dad wanting you to take over at Wellington one day. I was in a bad place by the time Megan showed up.”
He stiffens, shifting in his chair. “Branson, I don’t need to know this. It’s in the past. I’m over it.”
I shake my head. “Just hear me out, okay? I need this out in the open.” He nods, and I continue. “I’d only been home for a short while before she knocked on my door all in tears and shit. I swear to you, Knox, I’d never been with her alone before that. So she comes in, telling me you dumped her. And I was a fool enough to believe her. I had no idea she went to you later and told you we’d been going behind your back. I didn’t find that out until after you were already gone and it was too late. I know I made mistakes, but I swear to Christ, I didn’t touch her before that night. And to this day, I’m still so fucking sorry I ever did.”
“Wow,” he says, letting out a deep breath as he processes it all. “I had no idea what a manipulative bitch she was.”
While I can agree, I know it wasn’t completely all her fault. I’m about to tell him so when he continues.
“Look, I shouldn’t have run like I did. And the truth is, it wasn’t just Megan. It was all this. I’d started questioning my future, and I think that’s part of why I started slacking off in school. The thought of sitting behind a desk was stifling. Yeah, it was kind of nice knowing that, no matter what, I’d be set with a job for the rest of my life, but then graduation came closer and I wasn’t sure I even wanted that. Then I found out about you two and saw it as my way out. Hindsight’s a funny bitch, Branson. If I’d have come home just once in the last decade, maybe we could’ve talked it out and saved us both a lot of years of misery.”
I nod, knowing we’re both stubborn assholes.
“But that being said, let’s leave it where it belongs. In the past. From where I’m standing, our futures are looking pretty damn good.”
If he only knew. “Yeah,” I manage to say with a smile, my mouth going dry at the thought of a future with Ariana.
As if he can sense my shift in mood, Knox looks at me. “Are you two the real deal, Bran?” he asks, trying to read my expression.
Jesus. For someone who’s spent the last decade avoiding me, he sure as hell can read me way too easily.
“Yeah, man. We are,” I tell him, and I sure as hell hope I’m right.
AFTER CHECKING the window about ten times—even though Branson’s not due for another half hour—I force myself to go to the kitchen, where I pour a glass of wine to help calm my nerves. This is silly, being so anxious, but I can’t help myself. I haven’t been this nervous for a date since… well, ever.
Even though Branson and I have done everything entirely backwards, the anticipation of this night is nearly causing my heart to beat out of my chest. The not knowing is also new for me. I’m used to being told where I’m going with suggestions of what to wear. First from my mother, and then from Benjamin. So Branson’s whole “just dress casual” wasn’t any help when I was going through my closet.
After changing my outfit three times, I finally settled on black shorts, a simple teal-colored T-shirt with a deep V-neck and black sandals. I let my hair air dry, loving the natural wave, and I took my time creating a smoky look with my makeup. It’s casual yet sexy, and I hope Branson likes what he sees.
Just as I’m finishing my glass, the doorbell rings, causing me to jump. I grin to myself and tell my racing heart to calm down. Taking a deep breath, I push the glass aside, hop down from my stool, and make my way towards the front door. The closer I get, the more my giddiness grows, and when I open it to see him standing there, I’m practically beaming. I watch as his eyes rake over my body appreciatively, and I take the opportunity to check him out.
I’m not sure I’ve ever fully appreciated how handsome he is. Sure, I practically salivate at the thought of him naked, but as he stands there wearing dark, stone-washed jeans and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to showcase his strong forearms, I can’t help but enjoy the sight in front of me. He’s complained about losing muscle tone since the accident, but I think he’s crazy. He’s the perfect amount of muscle and definition. His dark hair has grown over the last month, and it’s messy, a lone strand hanging in front of his eye, giving off a slightly mysterious vibe. His brown eyes rise to meet mine and a grin spreads over his face when he catches me checking him out. A blush creeps up my neck, and I swallow hard when he closes the distance between us, placing a hand on my hips.
His lips come down to my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin. “See something you like, baby?” he growls, taking a nip at my earlobe.
Desire pools deep in my belly, and I have half a mind to drag him into the house, date be damned.
He must sense my arousal as he pulls back all too soon, looking down at me with amusement in his eyes. “Oh, yeah. You definitely do.”
With a mock glare, I shove him backwards when he laughs. “Do you really think that’s the best way to start a first date?” I ask, placing a hand on my hip. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”
