Page 42 of Conflagration
After downing the rest of my champagne, I set my glass aside and slide back until I’m resting against the side of the limo, my legs out in front of me across the seat. Branson pulls my feet into his lap.
“The way I see it…I don’t need a superhero, Branson. I just need you,” I say softly.
His gaze locks in on mine, and I watch as his jaw tenses—just for a split second. The way his eyes are boring into mine is unnerving. My natural reaction is to look away, but I force myself to maintain eye contact. Silence fills the air, and I wonder if I’ve given away too much in those four little words. Perhaps the L-word isn’t the only scary one for men.Needis probably just as terrifying.
A brief memory of Branson telling me that he’s nobody’s savior flashes through my mind. I could almost laugh at the untruthfulness of that statement. Because, no matter what happens tonight, next week, or even a year from now, he’ll always be mine. Even if it’s just a distant memory.
Unexpectedly, my eyes well up with tears. That’s enough to make me want to break our gaze. The last thing I want is for him to see me cry.
Just as I’m about to shift my eyes away, he smiles, and my heart flutters.
“I guess I’ll have to cancel my Batmobile order,” he teases before sobering a little. “A damn shame, too. I’ve wanted that thing since I was a kid.”
“I totally get it. I’m still waiting for my pink Barbie convertible,” I say with a sigh.
“So, about the wedding,” he says, doing a complete one-eighty on our conversation. “This afternoon, at the fitting, Knox asked me to be his best man.”
Even though he’s obviously trying to mask it, I can see the joy on his face. My throat tightens as my breath catches, tears welling up again. This time, I can’t stop them, and one spills over.
“That’s amazing, Branson.” I wipe the tear away and give him a beaming smile. “Sorry. I don’t meant to be emotional, but I know how much this means to you.”
“Trust me. I was a bit shocked when he asked. He even joked about my saving him from being miserable with Megan.” He shakes his head as a small smile quirks on his lips. “I was able to explain some things, and I think we’re finally going to be able to put it behind us once and for all. And damn if it doesn’t feel like a huge boulder’s just been lifted off my shoulders.”
I nod in understanding, biting my lip as I try to determine if I should use this as my in. The glass of wine and subsequent glass of champagne have me feeling a little less cautious than normal, and I decide to just go for it.
“So I said full disclosure once before, but we never did end up having that conversation. I guess I’m just wondering what exactly the deal with Megan was? What happened? And how did you end up married to her?”
He’s watching me in silence, and I continue, keeping it light.
“Not trying to stroke your ego or anything, but the things we’ve done over the past month? I can’t imagine you married to—what did you call her—a frigid bitch?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before setting down his champagne flute, twisting so we’re on opposite ends of the bench seat but looking directly at each other. “You want to talk about this now?”
With a shrug, I meet his gaze. “I know it’s not exactly first-date material, but as your fiancée, I feel I should probably know about her. Don’t worry. I’ll take notes on what not to do as the future Mrs. Wellington.” I’m teasing, but the sound of the moniker coming off my lips makes my pulse quicken. Glancing down at the Wellington family ring, I’m suddenly aware that I’m going to have a hell of a time taking it off when the time comes.
Branson leans his head back and laughs, and I assume he must not notice my change in demeanor. “Baby, trust me. You have nothing to worry about where that’s concerned. You couldn’t be more different from her if you tried. And I love that about you.”
My heart flutters at that L-word even though I know it’s just a saying. It’s not a declaration of his undying affection for me, so I push it aside even though I want to wrap the moment up in a blissful bubble so I can savor it for a little while longer.
“Well, we’ve already established that you and I’ve had pretty shitty taste in the past, but the good news is we both seemed to have learned the error of our ways. We’re definitely making up for our poor decision-making skills now. I don’t need details, Branson. I really don’t. But you did spend over a decade with her. That’s a lot of history to have with someone.”
He sighs but gives in. “Okay, a very short, non-descriptive rundown and then we put her in the past where she belongs and get on with our date?” he asks, and I nod. “What all did I tell you the night we met?”
Tapping my chin, I think back on it. “By the time we met, you were pretty deep into the scotch bottle. You didn’t really say why you were on the outs with your family, just that you were. And you didn’t want to be. Something about your brother finally being happy. To be honest, it was mostly chatter about how, once again, you wanted what he had and you were a bastard for it.”
He swallows hard. “I vaguely remember that. And for the record, I didn’t mean Charlie. I just meant what he and Charlie have. I wanted that. I wanted a place in my family again, but I thought it was too late for that. I thought they’d given up on me, but your note helped me see how wrong that was. I’d given up on myself.”
I smile. “I know, Branson. You said it about ten times that night, that you didn’t want his woman. Just one like her. Who made your face light up the way his does whenever she walks into a room. Even as drunk as you were, it was really pretty endearing.”
He groans, rubbing his jaw. “Anyways, let’s get this over with,” he grumbles before launching right into it.
His story begins the night she showed up as his place—but then I listen as he backtracks and tells me what he discovered about his dad. Hearing how hard he worked to try and make his father proud, my heart breaks for the twenty-one-year-old version of Branson, unable to comprehend how it would feel to have everything pulled out from under you for circumstances beyond your control. As I get the rest of the story, I have mixed feelings and have to remind myself that this was twelve years ago, that Branson’s not that same kid looking for his father’s approval. Now that I’m getting all the backstory, I understand the rift in the family, my heart aching for both brothers in this situation. It all makes sense. The way Amelia and the rest of the family seemed to take me in right away. How Branson would rather have pretended to be engaged just so his mom would smile at him with genuine affection—the way she did in the hospital.
“It’s not that Megan was all bad. At first, things were good. After Knox left, we settled into a relationship, but we weren’t exclusive. I was so busy with school—and then work—that we dated more casually than anything. Once she graduated, things got more serious. She wanted to be the wife of a businessman, and as a businessman, I wanted a wife.” He cringes as he looks away from me. “I know how that sounds, but it’s the truth. Just like that asshole you came so close to marrying. But I promise you—I’m not that guy anymore.”
I give him a reassuring smile. “I know, Branson. You were back then, but you’re not anymore. At least not with me.”
“I’m not. And I think you’re the reason. I don’t even want to think about going back to work when I know you’ll be home. With her, she was a complete afterthought, and I should’ve known that it would’ve never worked out, but my mind was too focused on becoming what I thought Dad and the board would want in a future CEO, and having a wife, a family, was one of them.”
