Conflagration

by Tessa Teevan

  Running a hand through my hair, I realize that she’s right. I am carefree. I am happy, and I’ve never felt this way before. My sister knows me better than anyone, and I know there’s no use in protesting because she’ll just call me on my bullshit.

  “It scares the hell out of me, Lyssa,” I whisper as I lie back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. “Every day that passes, I fall harder.”

  “And that’s a problem, why?” she asks.

  “Because this is temporary. There’s no spoken expiration date or anything, but it’s inevitable. Maybe that’s why this date’s freaking me out. For the past month, we’ve been in our own little world. He goes back to work next week, and I… I’ll have to do the same eventually. This can’t last.” As soon as I say the words, I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over.

  “Honey, if he just wanted temporary, why would he be asking you to go on a date? Has he made any indication that he wants you to leave any time soon?”

  “Well, no—” I start, but she cuts me off.

  “Exactly. My guess? He’s just as head over heels for you as you are for him, but he’s a man. He’s not going to just come right out and say it. Maybe that’s what this date is. His way of telling you he wants more without actually telling you.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll bite. Say he does want me to stay here… What about work? I only have five more months off—if I even still have a job when I get back,” I say, wondering for the first time what I’ll be going home to. And the thought is wrong because Atlanta no longer feels like home. Belle Meade, here with Branson, has become my home.

  “Ariana, for someone who graduated magna cum laude, you’re kind of acting like an idiot,” she teases, and I can just picture her sticking her tongue out at me. There’s a small pang in my heart from missing her. “You have a master’s in accountancy. I’m pretty sure you can find a job in Nashville. And let’s be honest here. You know Daddy Dearest never intended for you to come back to work. He only gave you those six months thinking that, in that time, you’d slide right into the dutiful housewife role. So if you’re worried about a job, start looking there. In fact, I can put out feelers if you want.”

  As the head of the HR department at Wellsley-Callahan Enterprises, a Fortune 500 company that’s headquartered in Atlanta, I know she’d have the connections. “No, it’s fine. Maybe next week, when he’s at work, I’ll start looking. I wouldn’t mind a change of scenery. Plus, I know you’re right. They gave me six months to appease me, and I actually took it to appease them. What a freaking mess. Looking back on things, I can’t believe how far I let them go. How close I came to becoming Victoria two-point-oh.”

  She laughs. “You definitely dodged a bullet. Trust me. If I’d been around more, I could’ve smacked some sense into you.”

  “How is everything going there? I still haven’t worked up the nerve to call anyone but you. I still don’t feel ready,” I tell her, switching gears in our conversation.

  “Do you really want to know?” she asks, sounding hesitant.

  I want to tell her no so I can stay in my bubble a little while longer, but I know it’s inevitable, so I may as well know what’s going on. “Not really, but tell me anyway.”

  “Well, things have actually been pretty uneventful,” she begins.

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” I ask.

  Alyssa sucks in a breath, which tells me that it’s not. “Not really. They’re all acting like nothing’s happened. They’re sticking with the story that the wedding was simply postponed. I’m not sure if they’re delusional or what, but Ben think’s you’re coming back to him.”

  “Does he know where I am?”

  “No, of course not. All they know is that we talk once a week, and I continue to assure them you’re fine. It seems to placate them, at least for now. I’m not sure how much longer though. I was told to remind you that you have duties and obligations to fulfill, and the sooner you return, the better.”

  Groaning, I roll to my side and tuck my legs underneath me. “God, this is a mess. But it’s what I get for just running away and hiding out for so long.”

  “Hey, you told him it was over. It’s not your fault he didn’t believe you.”

  “I know, but I’m going to have to face it sooner or later. I can’t have two fiancés at once, you know,” I joke.

  “I always knew you were a slut,” she teases. “Look, I agree that you need to settle things once and for all. But it can wait at least a little while longer. Every time I talk to you, you sound happy, Ari, and I don’t want that to change. Keep finding yourself, even if it is under that sexy-ass man you’re shacking up with.”

  Laughing, I sit up, feeling better for having talked to my sister. “It’s a pretty good place to find myself,” I tell her, and she tsks.

  “Speaking of being beneath a man, I have a hot date I need to get ready for,” she informs me.

  “Oh really? Anyone I know?” I ask.

  “I don’t think so,” she says slowly, and I know she’s lying. I don’t ask her about it though. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.

  “Have fun, Lyss. And thanks for listening to me. And for covering for me. I miss you.”

  “Miss you, too. Have fun on your date!”

  We hang up and I go back to my closet, staring at the contents, trying to find something casual like Branson requested.

  THE FINAL fitting for our tuxes is pretty uneventful, and I’m thankful my cast is off. There’s no way in hell I’d have been able to get my pants on with it, even if the brace does look ridiculous. For the most part, the pain in my knee has dissipated. Or at least it had until the doctor starting showing me rehab exercises to do. My physical therapy starts next week, and I make a mental note to put off the Friday appointment in hopes of being able to last through the wedding without having to wear the brace. That is, if Ariana will let me.

  Ever since our deal that I’d be the perfect patient, I’ve been just that. I’d only agreed to a week, but somehow, she kept finding more ways to make it worth my while to be cooperative—something I’ve never cared about being in my life. But when it comes to her, I’ve found that I’m pretty compliant. Like I said, she gives great incentives.

  “You need a lift back home?” Knox asks, tearing me away from the memory of Ari on her knees when I tried to refuse using my crutches.

  My woman gives a whole new meaning to the term sexual healing. Sure, I’m probably a bastard for being a pain in the ass, but we both reap the benefits of this bartering system, and so far, she’s had no complaints.

  “No, I’m good,” I tell him, and he raises his eyebrows. I pat my brace. “Now that I have this bad boy and not that thick-ass plaster cast, it’s easier to get around. So I’m taking Ari out.” I almost add, “for the first time,” but I catch myself. “We’ve been stuck in the house practically twenty-four-seven for the past month.”

  He gives me a knowing grin. “I’m sure it was such a bore for you. Being laid up with a beautiful woman like Ariana. Truly, I pity you. It must’ve been terrible.”

  I return his grin. “We haven’t had any trouble finding ways to occupy our time,” I admit, and he just shakes his head. “But seriously, she dropped everything to be with me during my recovery. So tonight, I’m taking her out. Dad rented a limo for us since I can’t drive. I’m just getting ready here and then I’ll go pick her up.”

  “Sounds like a good plan. I like her, Bran. I like her a lot,” he tells me, his eyes turning serious. “Hell, the whole family likes her. At first, I wasn’t sure. Something in the hospital seemed off, but Charlie told me it was just my imagination. It wasn’t until that first day in your living room when I knew she had it bad. She was ready to kick my ass when she thought I was going to mess with your bum leg. I just wish you hadn’t felt the need to keep her hidden from us.”

  Running a hand through my hair, I wince. “I know, man. I’ve spent the last eight months acting like a jackass, and I guess I just wasn’t re
ady.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Just the last eight months?” he teases, and I let out a laugh. “I’m glad for you, man. It’s obvious you’re happy, and now we all know why.”

  I swallow hard as I accept his words. “Thanks, Knox. Mom was busy enough with your and Cohen’s love lives. Any more would’ve been Wellington romance overload, and I’m not sure she could’ve handled it. And not to mention, maybe I kept it to myself so I didn’t rain on your parade. It would’ve been an asshole move to show up at your engagement party just to announce one of my own.”

  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?”

  His grin doesn’t falter as his eyes sweep over my body appreciatively. “Baby, I don’t think of you as a girl at all.” His eyes rest on my chest for a quick beat before coming back up to meet mine. He slips an arm around my waist and pulls me into him with such force that it causes me to gasp. “Oh, no. You are definitely all woman.”

  “Well, in that case,” I whisper as I slip my arms around his neck and rise up on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips.

  Branson has other ideas, however. He turns his head at the last second and my lips connect with the rough stubble of the five-o’clock shadow on his cheek. Dejected, I slump down and pull away from him. He lifts my chin so I’m looking at him, and he’s clearly amused with himself.

  “Ariana, it’s the beginning of our first date. What kind of man do you think I am?”

  Grinning, I roll my eyes. “The kind that wants to skip the entire thing and spend the rest of the night in bed?” I ask hopefully.

  Jesu
s, calm down and act like you’ve seen a hot guy before, I think, but I just can’t help myself.

  He laughs but shakes his head. “Not tonight. Now get your purse and let’s go.”

  I do as he asked, locking the door behind us. He takes hold of his crutches and gestures for me to lead the way down the sidewalk. I stop immediately when I see the limo and turn back to him.

  “Branson, what’s this? What are we doing? Am I underdressed? If you give me two minutes, I can go change into something more appropriate.” I fire off questions one after the other, not letting him answer.

  He crutches over to me and gives me a soft look. “It’s a surprise, and no, you don’t need to change. You look beautiful. I told you casual. Just trust me, baby,” he requests.

  “If you say so,” I mutter.

  He grins, giving me a gentle slap on the ass. “I do. Now get your ass in the limo.”

  ONCE WE’RE settled in the limo, Branson slips a piece of paper to the driver then presses a button so the partition rises. After setting his crutches across from us, he reaches into a small compartment and pulls out a bottle of champagne and two flutes.

  “Wow. For a first date, you sure go all out, Branson,” I tease.

  He grins at me just as he sends the cork popping across the back of the limo. “This night could define the rest of our relationship. If it doesn’t go well, you may not agree to a second one.”

  He pours two glasses, handing one to me before he sits next to me, his arm extending behind my shoulder, his thigh grazing against my own. Electricity crackles as it practically swirls through the air at the sudden contact in this confined space. I really do feel like a giddy schoolgirl on her first date. Especially with what he just said. I know he was kidding, but in all reality, he might be right. This very night could define us.

  Or it could just further cement the fact that I’m falling for him. Either way, I’m thankful for the champagne and take a sip, letting it flow down the back of my throat and soothe me.