Page 80 of Conflagration
“If that’s what you think, then you really have no idea what kind of man he is. Not that it matters. Here’s a newsflash, Megan. Branson doesn’t want you. Knox doesn’t want you. Unless you’re going to try and make a play for Cohen—which, again, he won’t want you either—then you need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Because this right here? This is just sad.”
Megan squares up, and I notice her fists clenching as her eyes flash with anger. I’m almost caught off guard when she barrels forward, but I’m ready for her. Just as her hands come up to brace my shoulders, my fist connects with her jaw, knocking her back with one punch.
Holy shit. I just punched Branson’s ex-wife.
I’ve never punched anyone before, and I’m about to apologize when she turns to look at me. There’s a small cut on her face from my ring, and I can’t help but think that it’s fitting. I take a step back to put space between us, not wanting this to get any more physical. The last thing I need is to make a scene with Megan.
Fortunately, she seems to have the same idea. She backs up, rubbing her jaw and giving me a menacing glare. “You’re going to pay for that. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but when I figure it out, I promise you you’ll wish you’d never met Branson Wellington. Better yet, he’ll wish he’d never met you.”
Giving her one last warning, I set my jaw and cross my arms, just waiting for her to retort, but she doesn’t. Then she turns and stumbles down the sidewalk. I watch as she yanks her keys from the valet and climbs into a small sports car. After she peels out of the driveway, her tires squealing, I lean back against the door, relieved that she’s gone before anyone else discovered she was here. Then I replay the last ten minutes over in my head, unable to wrap my mind around the fact that Branson was ever married to woman like her.
No amount of dwelling on it will ever make me understand, and suddenly, all I want is him. His arms wrapped around me. His lips on my skin. I need him, his presence, and as I slip inside, I let Megan’s words fade from my mind. There’s nothing she can do to hurt me, and no matter how hard to she tries, how many blows she tries to land, Branson and I are a solid unit. She’s just going to have to get used to it.
I FEEL like a teenager as I sneak off to the side of the house with Knox, where we light up a couple of cigars he brought back from his honeymoon. Mom would kill us if she saw what we were doing, and even though I may be thirty-three years old, I still don’t risk that wrath of Amelia Wellington.
We make small talk about the party, grateful that we got away from Dad’s not-so-secret admirer, his eighty-five-year-old neighbor, Mrs. Cartwright. As soon as Mom walked out back to save him from her, she set her sights on the younger generation of Wellingtons. Sure, we may be bastards for having pushed Cohen towards her and then hightailing it out of there, but it’s time he pays his dues. Andi will rescue him sooner or later. Although the snicker on her face has me guessing that it might be later.
“Dude, did you hear that?” Knox says after a beat of silence.
I strain my ears to hear whatever it was that caught his attention. As soon as I hear the screeching voice of my ex-wife, I mutter out a curse and start to move forward, but Knox holds my arm and stops me.
“You’ll probably just make it worse. Let’s see how this plays out. I have a feeling your woman’s strong enough to handle Megan on her own.”
Peering towards the front porch, I see my past and my present squaring off, and as the scene unfolds, I realize that he’s right. At the moment, it’s my present who seems to be winning out. That is until my ex-wife gets in her face, and I know I have to step in.
“I shouldn’t leave her to deal with Megan alone.”
But before I can tear my arm out of Knox’s grasp, I hear Megan’s spewing vicious bullshit to Ariana about how I don't really love her, she'll never be enough for me, and—my personal favorite—I should be hers. I see Ariana stiffen, but instead of backing down, her fist comes out and connects with Megan’s jaw.
I’m stopped in my tracks, both in awe and in shock.
“Holy shit,” Knox expresses, his voice laced with admiration. “That was fucking awesome.”
“Dude, I’m so fucking hard right now,” I blurt out loud, and his chuckle reminds me of his presence. “Did she really just do that?”
“TMI, dickhead. Damn, bro, you need to get Ariana in the ring with Charlie. Imagine how hot that’d be.”
Turning towards him, I raise a brow. “Really? You want me to imagine your wife and my fiancée in the ring, straddling each other?”
“Good point. Mind out of the fucking gutter, Branson,” he says with a smirk.
Just as I look back at the porch, I see Megan holding her cheek, backing away from Ariana, whose fists are balled at her sides, just waiting for another chance. “You’re going to pay for that,” Megan hisses, leaning closer as she lowers her voice to say something else I can’t hear.
Ariana steps forward, and I almost laugh out loud when Megan shrinks back. “Stay the hell away from me, Branson, and his family. No one here wants you, and all you’re doing is embarrassing yourself.”
Holy fuck. I’ve never seen this side of Ariana, and the way she defended me touches me somewhere deep down in my soul. She could’ve easily believed what Megan was saying or at least ignored it. Instead, she defended me. The fact that my sweet, caring, nurturing fiancée punched someone who was talking shit about me means more to me than it probably should, but it’s a turn-on and it makes my heart swell with love for her. Right now, I want nothing more than to take her home and show my appreciation.
As Megan walks down the driveway, Ariana stares after her until she’s out of view. “What a cunt,” she whispers, shaking her hand out. She looks down at her hand, flexing her fingers, then leans her head back against the door, her eyes closing.
I watch her for a moment, and just as I’m about to go to her, she opens her eyes and slips back inside.
“Charlie’s going to be so fucking jealous when she hears about this,” Knox quips, and I have to grin.
“Looking back to a year ago, yeah, I’d say I have to agree.”
He laughs, and even though I tried to skip the party, it’s nice being able to replace the memories from last year.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go check on her,” I tell him. He nods, and just as I turn to walk away, I look back at him. “Do me a favor. Keep this between us for now. I don’t want her feeling embarrassed or anyone else hearing that Megan was here.”
