by Emily Minton
Pulling back, I say the only thing I can think of. “Wow.”
An arrogant smile crosses his lips. “My thoughts exactly.”
A throat clears, and I jerk my head to the doorway leading into the kitchen. When I see Shane standing there, staring at us, I nearly jump from Brandon’s lap. Only his arms, wrapped around me like a vice, keep me in place.
“Julie asked me to come get you two,” Shane says, looking at Brandon before his eyes settle on me. I see a slight bit of jealousy in them, but mostly, I see acceptance.
“We’ll be right in,” Brandon answers before placing a kiss against my temple.
At any other time, by any other person, I would think the kiss was meant as a friendly gesture, but right now, I know it’s Brandon’s way of telling Shane that I am his. When I sag against his body, resting my head on his shoulder, it’s my way of telling Shane that Brandon is also mine.
Shane’s eyes flare before he gives me a slight smile. “Well, at least I don’t have to watch Twilight now.”
I let out a laugh, something I wasn’t sure I would ever do again. That right there is why I adore Shane. He is a good man, and someday, he will find a good woman, but she won’t be me. “If you think you’re getting out of watching Twilight, you are crazy.”
“Fine, but this time, you’re paying for dinner.” He chuckles before turning around and walking back into the kitchen.
Brandon’s arms tighten around me again. “I hope you know, you’re not going on any more dates with him.”
“Why not?” Yes, I’m fishing. I want to hear the words. I need for him to say it.
“Because you are mine. You have been since the first time Julie showed me your picture.”
“What?” I ask, shocked by his words.
“Right after she moved in with you and Kristen, she sent me a picture of the three of you. As soon as I saw the sexy little red head with the shy smile, I knew I was gonna make her mine.”
“But, you didn’t like me when we first met.” I hate to even bring up that day, but I need to understand what he is saying.
“Yes, I did. When you told me your name, it made me think of your brother. I know it’s no excuse for acting like a complete jackass, but it’s the truth.”
“I’m sorry about De...”
“Don’t.” He stops me before I can go on. “I don’t want you to ever say you are sorry for something that fucker did again.”
“But, you said….”
Again, he cuts me off. “I said a lot of shit, but that was all it was. Shit. I wasn’t mad at you. I was pissed as fuck at myself. I felt like I should’ve protected Julie and Jenny, and I didn’t. I took that anger out on you, and for that, I’m sorry.”
I start to reply, but stop when Julie sticks her head in the room. “Are you two coming in here?”
“Yeah, sis,” he says as he lifts me from his lap, holding onto me until my feet are firmly planted on the floor. “Are you ready for this?”
I look toward Julie then back to him. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
When I fell asleep, there was only the four of us in the house. Judging by the sounds coming from the kitchen, I would guess there is now a house full.
“Julie’s boss is here. He wants to speak with you about what your parents have planned.”
“They don’t know, do they?” I ask almost frantically as my mind goes over all the things that were talked about earlier. There’s no way I can go in there if everyone knows what has happened in my past.
Wrapping his hand around mine, he starts to shake his head. “No, and they never will.”
I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and nearly collapse with relief. “Yeah, I’m ready.” As we walk into the kitchen, I see Julie’s boss, Mr. Friedman, sitting at the table and shuffling papers around. Shane is standing near the back door, talking quietly on the phone, and Jase is holding Julie in his arms. She isn’t crying any longer, but judging by her puffy eyes, I doubt her tears stopped very long ago.
“Alright, what’s going on?” Brandon asks as he leans against the doorjamb and pulls my back flush to his front.
Without looking up, Julie’s boss starts to talk. “According to District Attorney Miller, Lillian Daniels has sent paperwork requesting to become Bethany’s Guardian ad litem. The claim has not been filed as of yet. If Bethany does not return to her parents’ home by Monday, the papers will be filed, and a hearing will be held to decide if she is fit to care for herself.”
“Bullshit!” Brandon says, anger making his body vibrate. “They can’t do this shit.”
“I’m afraid they can. If the court rules in her mother’s favor, she will have to return to Missouri with them,” says Mr. Friedman.
“Do you think they will win?” I ask in a voice only slightly above a whisper.
“I would like to say no, but I’m not sure. According the paperwork your mother sent the District Attorney, you suffer from severe depression and along with proof of multiple hospitalizations for mental instability, so it’s hard to say.”
“I’ve never…” I start to deny his words, but then I realize what he is talking about.
“The suicide attempts. I had to stay in the hospital for three days each time,” I say for Brandon’s ears only.
“But, you were a minor. Nothing like that has happened since you turned eighteen, has it?”
“No. The only time I’ve been in the hospital since I was a teenager is after Dean attacked Julie.”
“Medical records do not fall under the same laws as criminal records. Age does not matter,” Mr. Friedman says, obviously eavesdropping on our conversation.
“That was over ten years ago. Can they really use something that happened back then against her now?” Brandon asks.
“That doesn’t seem right,” Jase pipes in.
Mr. Friedman finally lays the papers down and turns to address the room. “It may not be right, but it is the law.”
“What can we do?” Julie asks.
“Bethany has three choices. She can give up and return to Missouri to live with her parents, where I can only assume legal action will be taken to ensure she is not allowed to leave again.”
“That’s shit’s not happening,” Brandon says, pulling me impossibly tighter.
“She could also take her chances at court. It’s likely that the judge will look at the evidence her mother has and throw the case out.”
“Is that what you think I should do?”
“In any other case, with this type of evidence, that would be my recommendation.” Mr. Friedman pulls his glasses off and starts to clean them with his shirt, an action that seems almost rehearsed.
“But?” Julie asks, wondering why my case is so different.
I know the answer, so I give it to her. “My father.”
“Yes dear, your father. I’m not sure how a judge from a small town in Missouri has so much pull, but he does. Mr. Miller told me that if your father wanted you back in his house, he would get you there.”
“I’ve never understood that either,” Julie says, still leaning against Jase.
“Money,” I tell them, stating the most sensible explanation. “He has a lot of money, enough to buy anything, including me.”
Mr. Friedman lets out a defeated sigh. “I wish I could tell you that money doesn’t matter when it comes to the law, but that’s not always true. I believe we have some good people in our local government, but I cannot guarantee that there isn’t someone who may be willing to take a bribe.”
“I thought that shit only happened in shitty movies,” Shane says, finally adding something to the conversation.
“Looking at the paperwork, I would say it has already happened,” Mr. Friedman says, motioning toward the papers scattered across the table. “It’s the only explanation of how this mockery has gotten as far as it has.”
“You said there was a third an option,” Brandon says, still holding me securely in his arms.
“Well, that op
tion is a little tricky. Some people may even say it’s unethical.”
“If the outcome is me not living with my parents, then I’m okay with unethical.”
Mr. Friedman looks at me in a way that demands my full attention. “If you were married, then your parents would not only have to have you declared incompetent, but also find your husband unfit to care for you.”
I feel Brandon tense behind me, his tension mirroring my own. “You think that would work? She’d be safe if she got married.”
“That would depend on whom she chose to marry. Let’s say the man was a decorated war veteran. Then, I believe her parents wouldn’t stand a chance of winning in court.” He shrugs, remaining quiet long enough to let his words settle in. “We live within an hour of Fort Campbell Army Base. No judge in his right mind would even consider taking a soldier’s spouse away from him.”
Brandon immediately spins around, taking me with him. “We need to talk.”
Not giving me a chance to say a word, he grabs my hand and marches us down the hall. Passing the bathroom, he leads me up the stairs and into my old bedroom. As soon as we step inside, he slams the door and turns to me. “Will you marry me?”
I knew this was coming as soon as Mr. Friedman started talking about marriage. Even before he laid the soldier thing on so thick, I knew Brandon was going to propose. I also knew that I had to say no. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“What?” he asks, sounding angry and a bit confused. “Why the hell not?”
Just as I open my mouth to explain, he interrupts. “You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t care. I’m not asking. I’m telling you that you are going to marry me.”
I shake my head and back away, stopping only when my back hits the wall. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
Anxiety wreaks havoc on my brain, causing me to say things without even realizing it. “I love you too much to let you do this.”
“What?” he asks as he starts walking toward me.
I ignore his question and keep my mind focused on what I’m trying to say. “You deserve to marry someone you love, not someone that you’re trying to protect. You need to find a wom…”
He stops my words by placing a hand over my mouth. “You love me?”
I play back all the things I’ve just said, realizing what I had blurted out. Oh my God, no. I try to speak, but his hand is still blocking my mouth. He slowly moves it, resting it on my jaw. “Do you love me, Bethany?”
“I, uhmm, I…” The words just won’t come out. How can you explain to a man you just met that you have been in love with him for years? After a moment’s hesitation, I decide to go with the truth. “I fell in love with your letters.”
“My letters?” he asks as his eyes take in my face. I can tell he’s trying to read me, to see if I am telling the truth.
“I think I started to fall in love with you the day I read the letter about the football.”
His face becomes confused before he asks, “What football?”
“Julie sent you a football in one of the care packages.”
He tilts his head just a hair before finally nodding. “That was like ten years ago. Maybe longer.”
“It was while we were in college.”
I go silent, so he lifts his chin, letting me know he wants me continue. “A few months later, you sent her a letter. You had given the football to one of the children in Afghanistan.”
He nods again as a faraway look covers his face. “That kid used to watch us play all the time. He didn’t have any toys. He lived in a war zone, he was lucky to have food.”
“I know. You told Julie all that in your letter. You also told her that you gave the football to him, the same football you had asked her to send you because you and your brothers were going crazy with boredom.”
“Anyone would have given it to him.”
I shake my head, knowing he is wrong. “No, not anyone, but you did.”
His eyes focus on my face again. “So you fell in love with me because of a football?”
“No, that was just what started it. There was also the fact that you took the time to write Jenny letters, even when you knew she was too small to read them, or the way you were constantly sending Julie pictures because you wanted her to see what you saw. Mostly, it was because the love you felt for Julie and Jenny jumped off the pages of every single letter I read. I wanted to be loved like that.” I say the last in a whisper, not brave enough to say it any louder.
“You want to know what made me fall in love with you?”
His words send a shockwave throughout my body. I’m so stunned that it’s impossible to answer him.
“It was when Julie told me about the gingerbread man cookies. You made six different batches, until you got them just the way Jenny wanted them. She said you never complained, just threw each batch away and started another.” He smiles as he leans into me. “Then, there was the time that Julie spilled wine on her dress at one of your mom’s fancy dinner parties. She was afraid your mom would give her shit about being clumsy, so you poured a glass down the front of your dress, just so you would match.”
“How?” How did he know these things?
“You’re not the only one who read letters. Every single one of Julie’s letters was filled with stories about you. I fell in love with those stories and with you.”
I let his words sink in, filling my heart to bursting. Just before I blurt out yes, the thought of him at Missy’s house flashes from my mind. “What about Missy?”
A guilty blush floods his face. “It wasn’t what you thought.”
“I know what I saw.” What I didn’t see myself, Missy made sure tell me. I try to pull away, angry that he is lying.
He refuses to let me go, pulling me even closer to him. “After seeing you with Shane, I thought there was no chance for anything between us. I had already fucked up so bad, I didn’t figure you would ever want to have anything else to do with me.”
He goes quiet for a moment, before finishing his story. “I met her at a bar. She did everything she could to get my attention. I won’t lie to you; I went to her house, planning to take her to bed. Shit happened, but not what you’re thinking. I couldn’t do it, because every time I looked at her all I could see was you.”
“Then why were you still there?” I ask, even though it is really none of my business. I shouldn’t be jealous, when I had been on a date with Shane less than twenty-four hours ago.
He shakes his head, obviously frustrated with himself. “I ended up drinking too fucking much and passing out. What you walked in on was me waking up with a hangover, nothing more.”
“Are you sure?”
He leans down, just enough to kiss my temple. “Hell yeah, I’m sure. There was only you for me, and I knew that the moment I saw your face in that picture. I love you, Bethany. I always will.”
I want to beg him to say it again, to prove that he means it. Instead, I kiss him. For the first time in my life, I kiss a man first. “Yes, I will marry you.”
Chapter Nine
Less than an hour after agreeing to marry Brandon, I’m standing in the middle of Julie’s bedroom, sliding on one of her dresses. It’s deep purple with a slit that runs nearly to my panties. The V in the front shows more than a glimpse of my boobs. To say it is not a typical wedding dress would be an understatement.
“I knew that dress would look perfect on you,” Julie says, zipping up the back for me. “You are going to look beautiful.”
The door flies open, causing us both to jump, before Kristen walks into the room. She has a pair of silver sling-backs dangling from her hand. “I brought shoes.”
Thank goodness. I wore my flip flops over today, and Brandon refused to let me go home to get something different. This might not be a typical wedding, but I will not get married in flip flops. Considering Julie’s shoes are two sizes too big, Kristen is a life saver. “Thanks, Kris.”
She smiles before plopping down on the bed. �
��I cannot believe we are going to be related.”
Her words turn in my mind, and I realize, for the first time, I am going to be Julie’s sister, Kristen’s cousin, and Brandon’s wife. “I won’t be a Daniels anymore.”
“Nope,” Julie says with a huge smile. “You will be Bethany Walker.”
My own smile appears as I repeat my new name. “Bethany Walker. I like the sound of that.”
“I do too,” Brandon says as he steps through the door Kristen left open.
“Get out of here,” Kristen orders, jumping from the bed. “You can’t see her before the wedding.”
Brandon looks at Kristen and rolls his eyes. “I saw her an hour ago, so I don’t think seeing her now is going to change anything.” His eyes move to me and travel over my body. “And what a sight you are.”
I feel my cheeks heat up as I look into his blazing eyes. “Thank you.”
He walks forward, stopping toe to toe with me. “I just wanted to let you know that the preacher is here, and that Mr. Friedman just got back with the marriage license.”
“I’m so glad he knew somebody at the courthouse. If not, you never would have gotten one on a Sunday,” Julie says, reminding us all how much Mr. Friedman has done to help us.
Brandon nods at her words before bending down to kiss me. He starts out with feather soft touches against my lips, and then uses his teeth to pull them open. His tongue turns over the same spot that his teeth had just been, easing any pain that he may have caused, before finally plunging into my mouth. He devours me for the briefest of moments before pulling back, giving me another smile and leaving the room without saying goodbye.
Again, his kiss leaves me breathless, aching for something I don’t quite understand. I stare at the door, wanting him to come back and kiss me again. Only Kristen’s words keep me from moving toward the door and chasing him down. “Okay, when did that happen? I thought this was just a marriage to keep you safe. That kiss was not about your safety.”