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Brantley
Her eyes are glued to her finger, as if she can’t believe that it’s there. Staring back at her. But it is. And it’s there to fucking stay.
She glances up at me. “What is going on?”
I curl my lips over my teeth. She once said she wanted full disclosure, and I had a lot of fucking time to think on what I wanted when it came to her, and that was honesty. Saint can sniff out a lie like a Beagle can cocaine, but I still want to be honest. “It’s the opening night for the schools—and our wedding.”
She blinks as if she still hasn’t processed it.
I continue. “And Madison’s wedding.”
Double blink.
I run my tongue over my teeth. “And Tillie’s.”
“Jesus,” she whispers, stepping backward until her back hits the door.
“Sorry, he’s not invited.”
Her eyes snap to me. “Brantley, are you all sure this is the answer to whatever it is you’re all pla
“Don’t do that,” I say, ru
“Do what?” she asks, still admiring her ring. Good. It is fucking impressive.
“Second-guess whether we’re doing the right thing.” I step closer to her to curl my fingers beneath her chin to tip her face up to mine. “That ring, this wedding, it doesn’t mean shit to me, Saint. It’s all just labels and a piece of paper with some cheap two-dollar ink. Don’t expect anything more than what you’re used to from me. We need this to solidify our unit.” Her eyes flick up to mine, and fuck, she’s beautiful. It’s the kind of beauty that demands to be felt by everyone.
“But how can you marry me when you’re not in love with me?”
I take two deep inhales of air and count to five. Mainly for her benefit, because I already know what I’m going to tell her. I may be cold, but I’m not ignorant. I knew eventually she would want to have the discussion about love. I’m not a fucking idiot either. I know I feel a certain way about her. For instance, that “way” usually leads me down Murder-ville Drive whenever I think she’s either in danger or touching another man, but love? Shit. “Love will never exist with me.”
She keeps her focus on her ring, but I catch the way she tugs the corner of her bottom lip slightly into her mouth and nibbles on it. I notice her nervous trait and bring her face back up to mine with my finger. “But the way I feel about you will last a lifetime after love dies out. You once said that would be enough for you. Does that still count with a ring on your finger and a new title as my wife?”
She finally brings her eyes up to mine. “You are more than enough for me, Brantley.”
I smile weakly down at her, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. My smiles never usually do.
She sighs. “Do I even want to know what is happening tonight? Aside from our weddings? And what about Veronica finding out we’re married and that we know we’re not related?”
I chuckle, grabbing her hand while pulling open the door. “That’s all for the finale.” When we break back into the main area, the crowd has thi
Maybe not.
Madison is smirking at Saint, and Tillie has one raised eyebrow. Hector is talking on the stage, everyone watching him carefully. Good. Because it keeps eyes off us.
“Oh, so you just couldn’t wait…” Bishop clucks his tongue as we approach.
Saint rubs her thumb over her ring. “Was no one going to tell me until the last damn minute?” She growls, reminding me of a cute little pussycat, before her fist is flying into Bishop’s arm. It’s scary how much the two of them slipped so effortlessly into the brother-sister dynamic. “A heads-up would have been lovely.”
Tillie grabs her by the arm. “Let’s fix your makeup and I’ll fill you in.” All of the girls disappear to the bathroom, and the three of us don’t stop watching until they’re through the doors. I search Be
“Did you tell her everything?” Bishop asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.
I shake my head, snatching a glass of bourbon from a tray as a waiter passes us. “No. Have you both told Tillie and Mad?”
They both take a sip of their drinks before Nate answers, “No.” He cracks his neck. “At least we will all be in the doghouse together and they won’t find out until we’re up there. That way, they won’t cause a scene.”
“Eh,” I argue. “Pretty sure your girl doesn’t give a flying fuck about an audience.” Nate’s face pales.
“Actually,” Bishop murmurs, and we both turn to face him. “I told Madison a little bit. Just enough to warm them up before, but not the whole truth.”
Nate sighs. “My balls just ran away.”