Conflagration

by Tessa Teevan

  As I shrug out of my jacket and start to unbutton my shirt, I pause to watch as Ariana slips off her high heels and places them in the closet. She takes off her earrings and sets them on top of my dresser. Then she unzips her dress and removes it, one shoulder at a time before sliding it down her body. Seeing her walk around the master bedroom in nothing but a sexy pair of panties does something to me—and I don’t just mean to my dick. My own heart skips a fucking beat. It’s intimate. It’s domestic. Like this is just as much her domain as it is mine, and I know I want it to be.

  As I remove my shoes and slide my pants off, I grimace when I see my swollen knee. Ariana slips on a T-shirt and turns around before I can mask the pain etched on my face. It’s manageable, more of an annoyance than anything, but she gasps anyway.

  “Oh my God, Branson. It’s so swollen,” she says, rushing over to me and pushing me towards the bed. She finishes undressing me until I’m left completely naked, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

  I scoot back until my head’s resting on a pillow against the headboard, clicking on the television and turning on an old rerun while I wait for her. A few minutes later, she reappears with an ice pack in her hand. She elevates my leg and wraps my knee with the ice. Instantly, it feels better.

  “I never should have let you go so long without your brace. This is all my fault. All that dancing? What was I thinking?” she chastises herself.

  Taking hold of her hand, I bring it to my lips, giving her a kiss. “Hush, baby. I’m fine. It’s just a little sore. Tonight was perfect, even if you did make me dance my ass off.”

  “Are you sure? I feel awful,” she says with a wince.

  “I promise. I’ll be as good as new tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” she responds, not sounding convinced.

  When she joins me on the bed, she curls up against my chest. I turn off the bedside lamp, and we lie in silence watching the television. Just as I think she’s asleep, she breaks the silence.

  “Branson? Can I ask you something?”

  “Mmmhmm,” I murmur, absentmindedly playing with her hair.

  She lifts her head to look up at me. “Do you want kids?”

  My hand stills just as my heart starts to race. “Do you?” I ask, echoing her question without answering it.

  Her eyebrows narrow, confusion crossing her face. “What I want doesn’t matter,” she responds, a faint hint of sadness in her tone.

  I tuck her into my chest and roll us both until she’s flat on her back and I’m hovering over her, the light from the television illuminating her face. A quick flash of pain bursts in my knee as the ice slips off, but I ignore it, not caring about anything other than her right now. “Baby, of course what you want matters. If you don’t want kids, then what I want doesn’t mean a thing. Because, ultimately, what I want is you.”

  Her eyes widen as she looks up into mine. “Wha… What are you saying, Branson?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

  “What I’m saying”—I pause, taking her left hand and holding it up between us, my thumb rubbing her ring—“is I want you. I want a future with you. The only future I want is the one with you in it. I’m tired of waking up each day and wondering if it’s going to be the last one we have together.”

  “What about temporary?”

  “Temporary’s over, Ariana. I told you. This is real. How I feel… I don’t want some unknown expiration date hanging over us any longer. Move in with me. Stay with me. Be mine. Let’s make this official.”

  She swallows hard, and I see a wet sheen glistening in her eyes. My heart races as I wait for her to respond. “I…I want that, too. And just so you know, I’m already yours. I have been this whole time. Just, now, it’s permanent.”

  Permanent.

  I’m not sure a word has ever sounded sweeter coming from her lips.

  “And just for the record, I do want kids. One day,” she admits.

  “One day,” I repeat. “Good. So do I, but only if you’re the one having them.”

  I lift her up and pull the T-shirt off her before rising to my knees to remove her panties. She gasps as I settle back over her and line myself up with her entrance.

  “Branson, your knee!” she exclaims, but nothing’s going to stop me from what I’m about to do.

  Tonight, I don’t want to simply own her. I want to possess her, but not just her body. Even though I’m not sure I’m ready to say the words, I know I can show her. Cherish her. Love her.

  And that’s what I do as I slowly slide into her. I give her all of me, and in return, I take. I take her body. I take her heart. I take all that she’s willing to give.

  As I rock into her with slow, deliberate thrusts, I look down in to the eyes of the woman I love, the eyes of my future, the eyes of my forever, and I know I can’t keep it in any longer.

  Taking hold of her hands, I entwine our fingers and lift her arms so our joined hands are above her head. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I lean down until we’re chest to chest. She moans as I slide out of her then slowly push back in until I’m seated in her fully, our pelvises connecting intimately. Stilling, I look down at her, knowing my life’s about to change.

  “Baby, look at me,” I request.

  Her eyes open slowly, still hooded and laced with pleasure. She sucks on her bottom lip then lets out a satisfied sigh, her hands squeezing mine. “Anyone who complains about this position being boring is clearly doing it wrong. It’s a good thing you want permanent, because if I had to live a future without you, I might as well become a nun. No other man could ever compare.”

  I release one of her hands and bring mine down to stroke her cheek. “Hey, no talk of other men or convents when you’re in my bed. Or ever. I mean it, Ariana. I want permanent. Marriage, kids, all of it. Because…”

  She smiles, a slow, satisfied smile, and I pause to capture this moment.

  Letting out a deep breath, I know it’s now or never. “I love you. I’m in love with you, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Only you.”

  Her hooded eyes widen, a small gasp escaping her lips. “Branson, I… Oh my God. Are you serious?”

  My hand cups her cheek, my thumb rubbing against her skin as I look down at her. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. I know it seems soon, but I spent far too long wasting my life with someone I didn’t love. Now that I have you and I know how I feel, I don’t want to waste time questioning it or thinking it’s too soon. I don’t want to waste another second of my life without you knowing how much I love you.”

  She swallows hard, her hand coming up to cover mine, tears glistening in her eyes. “Branson. I love you, too. So much. More than I ever thought possible. And I want a life with you. A future. Everything.”

  She tightens her legs and pulls me down for a kiss, rocking her hips up into me. The room is silent—save for the sounds of our ragged breathing and passionate kisses, for the first time in my life, I make love to the woman who owns my heart.

  I’m surrendering myself, surrendering my heart, and silently thanking God, the Universe, whoever the hell I can, for this second chance. I just pray that I don’t screw it up like I seem to do with everything else.

  AFTER WHAT was probably the best night of my life, I slowly wake up, rolling over, ready to spend a lazy Sunday morning in bed with the man I love.

  The man who loves me.

  The thought sends jolt of giddiness through me, and it’s amazing how light—yet full—my heart feels. When I feel the bare, cool sheets next to me, I open my eyes and see that he’s not there. Glancing at the clock, I’m surprised to see that it’s past nine already, and for a moment, I curl up in the comforter, covering my mouth, and let out a little bit of a squeal.

  As I stare up at the ceiling, I recall the entire night before, and I can’t believe how drastically my life’s changed in the past six weeks. I knew Branson had feelings for me; I just didn’t know that he knew it. Never in a mil
lion years did I think my asking if he wants to have children would lead to him telling me that he loves me, that he wants marriage, that he wants kids. He wants all that—with me.

  I let out a dreamy sigh, bringing my left hand up in front of my face, allowing myself to finally study the ring that no longer just represents a temporary fling. As I bite my lower lip to keep from squealing out loud again, I relish in the fact that this ring is now a symbol of our love. Even if we went about it in an entirely backwards way.

  Suddenly, I sit up and get out of bed, wanting nothing more than to give the man I love a good morning kiss and figure out where we go from here.

  After slipping on a T-shirt, I pad silently down the hall, expecting to see him when I enter the kitchen, but he’s not there. A fresh pot of coffee is evidence that he’s here somewhere, so I pour two mugs and head to his office, where I see him sitting behind his desk, his phone pressed up against his ear. He smiles when he sees me, gesturing for me to come in. As I set the mugs on his desk, he pats his lap, and I’m barely around the desk when he takes hold of my arm and pulls me into him, his free arm curling around my waist. I sit in silence as he finishes up the phone call. Then he turns to me, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Morning, baby,” he growls, nuzzling against my neck. I’m seriously getting used to this.

  “Mmm, morning. That’s what I was missing when I woke up alone. I was hoping for a lazy day in bed, especially after such a late, eventful night.”

  Branson lets out a throaty laugh, and it’s sexy as hell. “Baby, all we’ve done so far is be lazy in bed. Or on the couch. Or in the kitchen.”

  “I know. I think you’ve spoiled me. I’m ready to spend the rest of my days living in T-shirts and sweats, watching bad cartoons, and getting my fill of you.”

  A gleam fills his eyes, and I blush. Then I gesture towards the phone, a mock frown forming on my face as I let out an exaggerated sigh.

  “But it looks like it’s time for reality to set back in.”

  “Mmm, Ariana, you’ll never have to worry about not getting your fill of me,” he says, brushing the hair out of my face. “And yeah, I think it’s about time we return to the real world, but that’s nothing to be sad about. In fact, I think our new reality is a pretty damn good one.”

  “Touché,” I agree. “So what was so urgent that you had to get out of bed this early on a Sunday morning?”

  “Dad called and needed to talk shop,” he says vaguely.

  I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. “Everything okay?”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s fine. It’s just that you were right. As much as the old guy loves me, I think he’s done with me playing hooky. I kind of ruined the whole ‘still need time to heal’ thing last night when I didn’t wear my brace.” He frowns, and I laugh.

  “That’s what you get! It’s fine, Branson. We knew this day was coming. So it’s back to the office tomorrow?” I ask.

  The same anguish I felt last week when he went back to work is absent, and I know it’s because our relationship is no longer hanging in the balance. There’s no question mark over us. No more expiration date. In fact, I’m glad things are going to get back to normal. Or, well, starting to become normal for us.

  “Not exactly,” he says cryptically, and I pull back to look at him, unable to read his expression. “He needs me to go on a business trip.”

  “Oh. Well, what about physical therapy? Did you remind him about that?”

  His eyebrows knit together as he shakes his head. “No, it didn’t cross my mind, actually. I’ll just have to miss this week.”

  A wave of disappointment washes over me, but I push it back. I will not be the clingy, needy significant other. Maybe this will be good. While he’s gone, I can start looking for a job. It’s time I start setting up my life here in Belle Meade anyway. A few days apart won’t kill us.

  “When do you leave?”

  “As soon as I pack and grab a quick shower,” he informs me nonchalantly.

  Oh. So much for basking in this newly declared love. The disappointment in me is palpable, and if it’s any indication of how dependent I’ve become on him, then some space will be a good thing. At least that’s what I try to tell myself.

  Clearing my throat, I plaster on a fake smile and climb off his lap. “Okay, well, I won’t keep you. Anything you need me to do?” I ask as I start to move away.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me back to him. “Yeah. There is.”

  “Oooookay,” I say slowly, waiting for him to continue.

  “Pack a bag, baby.”

  “For you?” I ask, not knowing what in the hell to pack him for a business trip.

  A slow grin spreads over his face as he rolls his eyes in exasperation. “For you,” he says with emphasis as he pokes me in the shoulder.

  Oh. Well, perhaps a few days apart isn’t necessary. “You want me to come?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? It’s actually pretty damn perfect. I have to check in on some things in Atlanta, so I figured we’d make a road trip out of it and drive down to get your stuff. Take a few days and settle things there for you.”

  “What?” I question, feeling like an idiot for needing this spelled out for me. But I want him to spell it out for me.

  “You were there last night, right?” He teases, and I nod. “So if I’m going there, we might as well make the trip worthwhile. Two birds, one stone, you know? We’ll get everything settled and move you in. Dad already said I could borrow his truck, and whatever doesn’t fit, we’ll schedule movers.”

  “Move me in?” I blink.

  “Jesus Christ, Ari,” he taunts, tapping my temple. “Didn’t we just talk about this last night? Are you in there? Do you comprehend what I’m saying?”

  I push his hand away and glare at him. “Don’t be an ass.”

  He laughs. “Baby, you already live here. This is your home. It only makes sense to make it official. I want your shit here. Plus, I don’t like the idea of you having an apartment in Atlanta to run away to whenever I piss you off.”

  “You plan on pissing me off?” I tease, and he grins.

  “It’s inevitable, baby. But the make-up sex will be more than worth it.”

  Rolling my eyes, I push off him, not sure why I’m surprised he wants me to move in. Wasn’t I just thinking about it before I came into his office? I guess hearing the words from his lips makes it real—and for a split second, it scares the hell out of me. But I love him and I’m ready to take the leap.

  Branson leans in and gives me a kiss. “Go get ready. We’ll take off within an hour, okay?”

  “Okay,” I echo, getting up.

  Just as I’m about to walk out, he stops me.

  “Ariana?”

  I turn back to him.

  “I love you.”

  A beaming smile crosses my lips, and my fears melt away. “I love you, too.”

  THE CLOSER we get to Atlanta, the more nervous I become. Part of me is hopeful that I can slip in and out undetected, but I really want to see my sister. More than anything, I want to introduce her to Branson. I also know that it’s time to face the music, and as much as I want to avoid my parents and Benjamin, I need to make it clear that my life here is over.

  Leaning forward, I turn down the radio and look at him. “Are we staying at my place or a hotel?”

  “Well, I was thinking it would make sense to stay at your place,” he begins, and I nod. “But I may have had Caroline make reservations at the Four Seasons.”

  “Oh really? And what’s the occasion?”

  He takes my hand and brings it to his lips. “It’s where we met. I want memories there that I’ll remember.” He pauses to glance over at me, worry on his brow. “You don’t mind, do you? I mean, I can always cancel if it’s a problem.”

  I laugh, shaking my head. He’s adorable when he’s flustered—two words I never thought I’d use to describe Branson Wellington. “It sounds perfect, Branson. And this time, I promise I won’t leave befor
e you wake up.”

  “Just try it, baby. This time, I know enough to track you down.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” I inform him then sit back thoughtfully. “I think I’ll see if Alyssa can get some time off this week. I know it’s last minute, but it’d be nice to have her help packing things up while you’re in your business meetings this week. Do you think Shane would be free to have dinner with us? I’d love for you to meet her, and it’d be nice for the four of us to get together.” Silently, I hope that, by Shane seeing Branson and me together, all of his suspicions will melt away.

  “I don’t see why not. You know, I’m way out of practice on this whole ‘meet the family’ thing, but I’m excited to meet her, too. What about your parents?” he asks, and I groan.

  “As much as I want to avoid them, I think it’s time I explain some things to them. Alone,” I inform him, and he scowls. “Just hear me out. I took the cowardly way out and ran. It’s time I face them, and I need to do it on my own. I can’t lean on you for this. I need to be strong.”

  “Baby—” he growls, but I hold my hand up to stop him.

  “Trust me, Branson. They’ll know about you, that I’m with you. But they also need to know I can stand on my own two feet. I’ve never stood up to them on my own. I need to do this for myself.”

  He lets out a deep sigh then nods. “Okay. I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.”

  One dilemma down. One to go. “There’s someone else I need to see,” I say quietly.

  Ever perceptive, Branson knows exactly who I mean. “No. No fucking way. You go see that asshole, it’s with me.”

  “Branson—”

  “No, this is not debatable, Ariana,” he says, his tone gruff and commanding.

  Irritation wells up in me, and I force myself to take a deep breath, careful not to lash out. “Look, I get it. This whole possessive ‘she’s mine’ show you men like to put on. But I walked out on him with barely an explanation. Yeah, he may have deserved it, but I need to return his ring and make it clear to him that it’s completely over so he’ll stop this whole ‘wedding’s just postponed’ bullshit.”