"You're crazy, Charlotte. Crazy and stupid and in big trouble."
I opened my eyes and stared at my reflection in the mirror again.
It was Sunday morning and I had just finished getting ready for brunch with the Maxfields. I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to dress casually as Martin had seen me before, or dress up so that I looked like an appropriate bride for his son. In the end, I went with the outfit that Felicty and Armina picked out for me—happy to not have to make a choice of my own in the end.
It was a sleeveless, eggshell-pink shift dress cinched at the waist with a thin, dark pink leather belt and I paired it up with nude, high-heeled pumps made comfortable by two-inch platforms. I encouraged the natural wave in my hair with some light mousse as per Clyde's recommendation and let it hang loose around my shoulders. As for my face, I simply dabbed on some blush, flicked on some mascara and swiped a strawberry lip-balm across my mouth.
I looked like a perfect lady and decided that it wasn't right because it didn't look like me at all.
For fun, I layered on a string of pearls and my old, long necklace with a dainty skull-shaped pendant and opted for my favorite denim wristlet instead of the fancy clutch Armina paired up with this outfit. I replaced the pretty belt with a black, single-grommet leather one I've had for years.
Satisfied, I headed out of the bedroom, grabbing my new, cropped denim jacket along the way.
Brandon had already arrived, dressed in dark jeans, a navy blue sweater and a cognac-colored leather bomber jacket. He was devastating and if I were weak, I'd combust on the spot. Unfortunately, I might not get away without at least a slow burning.
He was talking with Gilles in the kitchen and the two men's conversation halted when they saw me.
"I'll get the car ready," Gilles said with a small nod before turning to go and leaving Brandon alone by the kitchen island.
"Where's your driver?" I asked, looking around the house. "I didn't get to meet him."
"He just dropped me off and will meet me back at Dad's house," Brandon answered distractedly as he walked around and circled me in inspection.
He kept circling me like a hawk, saying nothing, that my patience snapped. I was still testy from our conversation last night and if he had plans to send me back to my room and change, I'd tell him he and his brunch could go to hell.
"What?" I demanded.
"I'm pretty sure Armina knew better than to get you skull accessories," he commented, his expression giving nothing away as he took a step back, his finger lightly brushing the pendant that rested on the swell of my breasts.
The warmth of his touch seeped through the thin fabric of my dress and gave me a dizzying rush but I shook my head, determined not to let his fleeting intimacies succeed in disarming me.
"It's mine and it's staying on," I said stubbornly, moving away from him as if it were the only way to stand my ground. "I didn't get a choice in what you got me for clothes so if I choose to play it up, I'll do it and you're not changing my mind."
I refused to let my gaze waver from him, refusing to stand down, but he caught me off guard when he just grinned and tugged at a lock of my hair playfully.
"Okay," was all he said before he grasped me gently by the elbow and ushered me to the door.
I was still reeling from his reaction as we sat together in the backseat of the car on the way to Martin's house. I couldn't muster any kind of conversation.
I watched absently as Brandon pushed a button that raised the panel separating us from Gilles up front, giving us some privacy.
"You look pretty," he finally said.
I felt flustered. I wasn't used to compliments from him. "You too."
Amusement flickered in his eyes as I groaned after realizing what I said. "I mean, you look handsome but you probably hear that all the time so just forget about it, okay?"
His thigh brushed mine. "Why the hell would I? For one, it's a compliment coming from my fiancee, which I've never gotten before since I've never been engaged and two, it's a small victory to hear you admit it."
"As if you need more victories," I muttered, sagging against the seat. "I hardly need any more intimidation considering I'm about ten minutes away from facing your father. He's going to take one look at me and figure it all out."
"Hey, don't think like that," he said, grabbing my hand and lacing his fingers through mine.
Pushing my chin up with another hand, he urged me to meet his eyes—his infernally beautiful, gold-flecked eyes. "Listen to me. I know that Dad won't expect us to be crazy in love with each other. He knows I've never met you before he handed down this condition and he knows how much of a fight I'd put up. He's not going to look for hearts and roses but he'll know if we're faking the attraction. The only way we can convince him that this isn't a total ploy—that we're going into this with some semblance of interest—is to act like we're attracted to each other."
Attracted. I'm like metal to a magnet.
"But we're not," I murmured, my gaze lowering to his lips which were suddenly too near. "Attracted, I mean. We're not attracted to each other."
He laughed softly. "I would've said that earlier this week. I'm not really sure anymore."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm not going to put up another kissing performance in front of your father because when I slap you hard, he won't have a doubt in the world that this is a total hoax."
His thumb on the hand entwined with mine rubbed lazy circles on my palm as his eyes lowered to my mouth. "Then don't slap me. Let me kiss you. Enjoy it. Respond to it."
Evil words, I know, but they sent a shot of longing through my bones all the same.
I bit my lip, still stubborn. "I don't just let random guys kiss me."
His mouth quirked on one corner. "I'm not some random guy. I'm your future husband."
"You're my future husband in name only," I corrected. "Which is probably worse."
He sighed but his arm somehow made its way around my waist and he dragged me closer to him with it. "Fine. Then think of me as some guy you're attracted to. Some guy you like spending time with. Some guy you find sweet. Some guy you won't mind if he slowly leans in close and tells you you're beautiful. Some guy who draws you into an intimate moment. Some guy you want to be close to. Some guy you're curious to kiss. Some guy whose lips you want to feel on yours."
The moment was hypnotic that my eyes simply fluttered close when Brandon's lips brushed mine.
"Some guy whose arms you want to hold you."
I sank deeper into his embrace as his arms tightened around me, gathering me over his lap.
"Some guy who's going to earn every kiss you give him back."
His tongue teased at the seam of my lips, coaxing for entrance and gaining it with barely any resistance from me. My hand found its way to the nape of his neck, my fingers raking through his hair as our kiss fused into shared gasps and moans.
"Who's going to make every conscious thought vanish," he said as we pulled away for a fraction of a second to drag in more air. "Who's going to make you senseless with want, boneless with desire."
I shivered as his hot, demanding mouth reclaimed mine, his hand sliding down to cup my breast, his thumb kneading intently on the hardened tip straining against the confines of my bra.
Tormented by a sudden ache that tightened my every nerve ending, I gasped out his name and let my head roll back, arching to his touch as he leaned close and anchored his mouth on my neck.
"Well, I guess that tells me everything I need to know."
The amused statement cut through the thick fog of my lust and snapped me back to reality with the effectiveness of an ice-cold bath.
My eyes widened as it focused on the open door of the car that revealed us to an awaiting audience of four people—Martin and his other three children with his late wife Evelyn.
"Close your eyes, Mattie!" the shrill voice of the eldest sister, Anna, broke through my shock and horror as I watched her wrap a hand over the glasses of the youngest Maxfield sibling, probaby nine or ten, who stood in front of her on the front steps.
"I can't believe you brought her here, Brandon!" Anna continued on acidly, glaring at her older brother who was still straddled under me, his hands resting on my hips.
I glanced down at him in stupefied speechlessness and found him smiling up at me, his hazel eyes bright with good humor and his kiss-swollen lips curved into a lazy smile. Realizing our position, I jumped off his lap and scrambled into a corner of the backseat behind Brandon as if to protect myself from his family.
"Of course, I brought her here, Anna," Brandon said as he straightened up and grabbed me by the wrist. "She's your future sister-in-law. There's no better time for you to get to know her than today."
Oh, God. He has no idea. Absolutely none!
"But we already know her, Brand," Tessa, the more soft-spoken sister, a year younger than Anna, said as her brown eyes gazed back at me. "She went to high school with us."
Brandon didn't seem surprised as he slid out of the car and held the car door open for me. "Yes, same school but I doubt that your class mingled with the working students, Tess, which is why you probably don't know Charlotte very well."
"If they did, I'd have fewer problems," Martin muttered under his breath as he stepped forward and extended a hand to me, smiling broadly. "Hello, Charlotte. Missed me?"
The old man's eyes were sky-blue and kind and my initial horror quickly disappeared.
This was Martin, after all. He knew in the years we've known each other that I was part of the working-student program at his daughters' high school. I worked at the library and cafeteria and attended a lot of the night and weekend classes. He never once looked down on me for it.
Guilt flooded through me at the reminder of the deception Brandon and I were pulling in front of his family but the happy expression on Martin's face told me he wasn't complaining about what he was seeing. In fact, he looked younger and healthier, as if his optimistic mood had been therapeutic. He didn't even seem to mind that he'd just opened the door to find me mauling his eldest son in the back seat of the town car.
"Hi, Martin. Good to see you again," I said shyly as I took his hand and eased out of the car, trying as subtly as I could to straighten my dress as Brandon reached out to brush my hair down and tuck a stray lock behind my ear. The intimate gesture alarmed me that I swatted his hand before I could think better of it and he retaliated with a rakish grin and a pinch of my nose.
Martin, having seen the exchange, laughed out loud and pulled me in for a quick hug. "It is good to see you, Charlotte, especially here with my son and his ring on your finger."
My heart plummeted into my stomach but Brandon smoothly wrapped an arm behind my waist and pulled me to his side, the gesture oddly reassuring when it was simply another embellishment to our act. "I couldn't let her get away. She didn't make it easy on me but I quickly convinced her."
He gave me a meaningful but teasing look and I flushed. "Yes, well. When Brandon has his mind set on something, nothing can stop him. It was a little overwhelming at first but I like a decisive guy."
Martin beamed at us. "I'm glad to hear that. You know I welcome you to my family like one of my own, Charlotte, but in case you haven't had any proper introductions to them, these are my daughters, Anna and Tessa, and my youngest son, Matthew. Children, this is Charlotte Samuels—a good friend of mine and your brother's fiancee."
"Can I look at her now?" Matt blurted out, still trying to pry off Anna's hands from his eyes. "She's not kissing Brand anymore, is she? They need to come up for air."
Brandon chuckled and clapped his baby brother's shoulder, effectively tearing him away from Anna's constrictive grip so he could take off his glasses and wipe at them with the edge of his shirt. "It's all good, Mattie. You should meet Charlotte."
I smiled at the young boy who was gazing up at me through the thick lens of his glasses with wide blue eyes the same color as Martin's. Matthew was almost cherubic with the floppy, dark blond hair which was probably Martin's original hair color before it turned silver, and possessed none of his older brother's dark and stark, masculine beauty.
"Hello, Matthew," I said to him as I extended my hand. He tentatively took it and returned my handshake. "It's nice to meet you. How's the music-writing going? Any new compositions?"
Surprise registered on the boy's face before it broke into a shy grin. "You know I write music?"
"Of course," I said with a nod. "Martin and I are old friends. He told me how talented you are with the piano. Brandon told me the same thing. I look forward to hearing you play."
Brandon's hand on my waist gave a slight squeeze and I glanced up at him and found him smiling softly at me. He'd never mentioned his brother to me but I could tell he wouldn't have disagreed with what I said.
"Okay," Matthew said, a blush pinkening his cheeks. "I can play for you if you want to listen later. And you can call me Mattie. My family does."
"She's not family," Anna hissed.
"She will be in a less than two weeks," Brandon said in a firm voice. "I expect you and Tessa to treat her like she's one of us. With all your expensive schooling, I imagine you won't have any trouble being polite and well-mannered."
I felt Anna's glare burn a hole through me.
I'd known that I was going to eventually run into the sisters when I married Brandon but it didn't concern me so much until I was face to face with them today. We never had any quarrel between us but I failed to remember just how the Maxfield sisters were above reproach in the entire time I knew of them.
Anna Maxfield was Worthington Prep's queen bee during high school. She was beautiful and statuesque with long, light brown hair and Martin's cornflower blue eyes. With her wealth and social status added on top of her natural beauty and grace, she was easily the most popular girl that all the boys wanted to date and all the girls wanted to copy.
She was smart and confident and often played nice with everyone but her friends were an entirely different story. Her pals often poked fun at the other kids—the unpopular, the awkward, the misfits and the poor.
I'd stayed out of their radar for the first couple of years but one time, Bessy, one of her bitchiest friends, decided she wasn't happy with the me talking to one of the school jocks I was helping find a book in the library. She started talking about me out loud around a group of people who were snickering and cheering her on. I was provoked but did my best to ignore her until she started talking about the mother who abandoned me when I was six and my Dad's drinking problem. I quickly decided I had enough.
I grabbed a hulking hardbound dicitionary, spread it open to the page where the word 'bitch' was defined and laid it flat on the table in front of her and her captive audience, saying, "It says it's a female dog. Since I don't see you on four legs and paws, I'm assuming it's either your face or the other meaning which isn't in this dictionary. If you're not, then stop acting like one."
I walked out with my head high but inside I was kicking myself mentally for letting Bessy take me down to her level and potentially risking my scholarship. To my surprise, nothing ever came of it except for Bessy never messing with me again although she still gave me the usual evil eye and the other kids in school giving me wide berth whenever I was around.
Anna and I never clashed but with her friendship to Bessy and all the nasty possibilities for my motives in marrying her brother, I understood her reaction. I understood, alright, but it didn't mean I was just going to hang my head low and let her bully me around.
"We'll do our best, Brand," Tessa said quietly, her light brown eyes giving nothing away as they bore into me. She was a contrast to her sister—timid and reserved—but she escaped criticism because Anna was very open about being protective of Tessa. We were the same age but we had never spoken to each other once in the years we spent at the same school.
"Alright kids, now that we've all agreed to play nice, let's head inside and start brunch," Martin announced as he led the troop of Maxfields inside the palatial house.
With Brandon's clasp on my waist, we lagged behind the rest of them.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Brandon murmured to me. "Dad looks ecstatic and my brother already adores you."
I grimaced. "Your sisters don't. I shouldn't have taken for granted the fact that they knew where I came from. In most people's minds, nothing changes after high school."
"They'll come around," he said nonchalantly.
"Or they could go digging into our whirlwind courtship and find out the truth," I retorted with a small groan as we walked up the large, airy hallway. "They won't buy the whole Cinderella-story crap. They know me and they know you even better. They won't understand why you would marry me."
He glanced down at me with a smirk, his eyes dark with meaning. "I think after seeing us earlier in the backseat like that, they can figure out one or two reasons why we're rushing to get married."
"Brandon! That was a lapse of judgement on my part and a cheap trick on yours," I hissed at him under my breath, elbowing him on the side as my face flamed in embarrassment at the reminder of our appallingly steamy make-out session in the back of his car.
I struggled not to remember the feel and taste of his mouth, of his relentless hands all over me, of the fire that replaced the blood in my veins—and failed utterly when he leaned close and laughed softly against my ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin on it. "You can have a lapse of judgement with me anytime, baby."
"Not in this lifetime," I ground out, hoping that he was getting the full impact of my glare. "I didn't even like it."
Thorougly amused, he suddenly hooked his arm around my waist and lifted me up against his chest which was vibrating with laughter as I let out a shriek before I could think better of it.
"Everything okay?" Martin's statement sounded puzzled but amused.
Brandon swung me to the side to grin at his father and siblings who'd halted in the long march to wherever the breakfast nook was and nodded in reassurance. "Yeah, yeah. I'm just settling an argument with my fiancee. Go on ahead of us."
"Brandon, put me down," I murmured against his neck where I'd buried my face in mortification. "This is a bit excessive, don't you think?"
His face turned to me, a mere inch or two away from mine, our conversation hidden behind the curtain of my hair. "I'll put you down if you admit that you liked it. You're not a very good liar, Charlotte."
I glowered at him. "Really? After all that practice you've given me?"
He ignored that comment. "Admit it. You enjoyed every bit of that kiss."
I bit my lip. "I will admit to nothing. Why do you care anyway? You need an ego boost that badly?"
"No. I just want to know that you're not unaffected by it," he said with a smug smile. "Because if it didn't move you, it's a matter of pride that I rectify the situation by kissing you again."
The look on his face told me that he meant it.
"Damn you, Brandon Maxfield," I muttered, pummeling his shoulder weakly with my fist. "Alright, I admit it. I liked it. Happy now?"
"Good enough," he said before suddenly pulling me down for a quick but passionate kiss and promptly releasing me back on my feet right after.
I was oddly annoyed and thrilled at the same time and I didn't really wish to explain it to anyone.
Good thing that when I turned back around to face Brandon's family, the hallway was empty except for the two of us.
As Brandon took my hand and led me forward to continue our journey to wherever in this enormous mansion the brunch was taking place, I briefly wondered that if his family hadn't been there as our audience, for whose benefit was that last kiss intended?
******
Brunch was actually a pretty fun affair if I didn't count the number of snide remarks Anna threw my way before Martin finally gave her a stern, iron-clad warning to shove it.
I surprised myself by not flinging any cheeky response back at her but I was in a good mood, having a good meal and a semblance of a family I haven't experienced in years. I just couldn't be bothered to even worry about her.
Tessa was more civil than her sister but too quiet to even really voice out anything, much less criticize me. Martin was full of stories and jokes and Mattie was witty and adorable. Even Brandon was relaxed, his expression open, and his smiles easy and plenty that I almost forgot the whole ploy we were running here.
Martin asked general questions about our meeting and nearly-instantaneous decision to marry. Brandon mostly started the answers and I added on to them a bit. I worried that our answers were too generic but it didn't seem to bother the old man. He was mildly surprised that the wedding was less than two weeks away but Brandon just smiled smugly and put an arm around my shoulders, saying, "I found what I want and I'm keeping it. Waiting is pointless."
Martin just smiled and grunted some kind of agreement with his son.
After our meal, the sisters insisted that Brandon sit out on the covered patio with them to catch up while Mattie sweetly asked if I wanted to go up to his music room and listen to him play.
"You go on upstairs and get your piece ready, Matt, and Charlotte and I will be right behind you," Martin said, looping my arm through his as we got up from the table.
I cast Brandon a nervous glance but he just smiled at me and gave me a tight nod before following his sisters to the patio.
What is this? Divide and conquer?
"My son tarries little which has always served him well but I hope that he didn't push you too hard on this," Martin said without preliminaries as soon as we were out of earshot. "I would've liked to have seen a long enough engagement but if this is what you both want, I have no problem with it."
Martin must've been hoping for some time for me and Brandon to naturally come to the conclusion he wanted. I couldn't tell him that Brandon just wanted this whole marriage to be done and over with as quickly as possible because the sooner we married, the sooner we could divorce.
My heart squeezed with guilt.
"It's hard to explain how this all went so fast but it's happening and I'm going to let it," I told Martin, my words as close to the truth as I could get them.
Martin glanced at me with a warm smile, his eyes glinting with a knowing light. "Brandon has always had a way with women so I'm not surprised at how quickly he got you to agree to this. Knowing you though, I'm certain you're not leaving him completely in charge which is a good thing."
"Oh, trust me," I told him with a laugh. "The constant battle for the upper-hand definitely keeps things interesting."
The old man chuckled. "I'm glad. Brandon can be very domineering when he wants things done. He needs someone who can stand up to him and turn his world on its ear every now and then."
I rolled my eyes. "Aren't you worried about him turning my world on its ear?"
He grinned. "I'm sure he's going to give it as good as he gets. Brandon will be a handful for a husband but he'll be generous and good to you. It's about time you enjoy life a little, Charlotte, and let someone take care of you this time around."
My heart swelled with affection for the old man as I realized that maybe he formulated this idea in an attempt to help both me and his son at the same time—together.
I wasn't sure why he'd go as far as blackmailing Brandon to accomplish it but whatever the details of his reason were, I couldn't resent him for it. If this made him happy, then it would be worth it, with or without the money.
"I don't have very much left in this life, Charlotte," he said as if somehow sensing the train of my thoughts. "I would like to see the people I love and care about happy and settled before I go."
My hand tightened its grip on his arm. "Martin, don't talk like that. You're not dying."
He sighed, his smile wistful. "We're all dying. It's just a matter of when we do. They key is to live as much as we can and love as hard as we're able to before the time comes. It's something I want my children to know and keep in mind when I'm no longer here to remind them of it."
I felt the sting of tears but I quickly blinked them back and forced a smile out for him. "You're a good Dad, Martin. Your children are lucky to have you."
He patted my hand on his arm. "Well, you're to be counted among them pretty soon. I'm really happy you're marrying my son, Charlotte. I believe one day you'll realize the wisdom of your decision."
I doubt it but if you say so.
When I first met Martin five years ago, I wasn't in a good place in my life. I was just trying to get from one day to the next, going through the motions of life when I was merely just surviving. He first got my attention when he got me fully participating in a debate with him about a newspaper article he'd been reading. Since then, every time he was in Marlow's, he'd ask me to sit down with him for a few minutes and we'd talk about anything, and little by little, he'd coax me back out to the light. Bobby never called me out about it and until this day, I never asked if it was because no one got in Martin Maxfield's way or if it was because Bobby knew as well as anyone who saw me grow up that the old man was as close to a real father as I could get.
And this is how you repay him?
I mentally shook my conscience away, telling myself that Martin orchestrated this whole thing himself and I was doing my best to cooperate and truly give him whatever it was that he wanted out of this.
We continued to talk like old friends on our way up to Mattie's room.
To my surprise, I didnt have another attack of guilt. The old man seemed genuinely happy about my impending marriage to his son. I wasn't sure how he would feel when Brandon announced our divorce in a year. He would be devastated but I refused to think about it now. It didn't have to come to that. I would figure out what he needed me to do for Brandon, do it, and then get out when the time came with none the wiser.
Mattie was already seated on his stool by his baby grand. The massive room had high ceilings and customized walls panels to provide the ideal acoustic treatment. The boy's eyes were lit up with excitement and Martin and I grinned at each other as we sat on the sofa across from him.
Even though I was far from a music expert, Mattie's talent was evident the moment he started his first piece—a rich, lyrical composition that captivated with its spritely bursts of accelerated tempo in a dramatic blend of the melody's rise and fall.
He was on his third piece when I felt large, warm hands on my shoulders and I looked up and saw Brandon standing behind the sofa, watching his baby brother with a smile.
He was the first to applaud when Mattie finished just as the two sisters were walking into the room.
Flushed but grinning from ear to ear, Mattie slid off his stool and took a deep, almost theatrical bow.
"Good job, son," Martin said with fierce pride on his face as he stood up to give the boy a solid pat on the back. Even though Mattie came as a late surprise for him and Evelyn, Martin loved him no less than his other children.
"That was absolutely wonderful, Mattie," I said to the boy as he walked over to us. Unable to help myself, I pulled him in for a quick hug to which he responded with a giggle, pushing his glasses up his nose.
"I wholeheartedly agree, bro," Brandon said as he took his father's place on the sofa, his tall, large frame imposing against the light blue-gray fabric. His hand settled on my knee as he leaned forward to ruffle his brother's floppy blond hair. "I can't wait to attend your next school concert."
"Will you take Charlotte to attend too?" Mattie asked, biting his lip anxiously.
Brandon grinned and glanced at me. "Of course. She won't miss it for the world, would you, baby?"
From what Martin had told me before, Mattie's school held a musical concert around late fall, just before the holidays. I wanted to make sure that was still within the year of my marriage to Brandon because I'd hate to promise the boy and not be able to come.
"I wouldn't dare," I reassured him. "I've never been to one of those before but I'm sure I'll like it if you're playing."
"It'll be kids performing," Anna said curtly as she and Tessa stood behind the sofa, glaring down at me. "It won't be anything sophisticated but knowing you, you'd probably be able to relate to it better."
My lips tightened together. "Sophisticated musicians usually start as promising young talents. And I don't really care so much about being well-versed in music myself—I usually just enjoy listening to it—but I would appreciate it if you would limit your insults to just me and not your exceptionally gifted little brother who deserves none of it."
I mentally cringed for blurting that last part out because I didn't want Mattie to hear this conversation but my temper snapped. It was too late to take it back now.
"I agree with my fiancee that you should leave Mattie out of this," Brandon started, his voice cold and dangerously low. "But I also want you to stop being so petty, Anna."
Anna looked utterly furious, Tessa anxiously staying her with a hand on her arm.
Martin sighed out loud and put a hand on Mattie's shoulder. "Let's go and get Cook to pack up some food for Brand and Charlotte, buddy. These two should probably head out soon if they want to spend the rest of Sunday together. Come on."
We were silent as we watched father and son leave the room.
"I can't believe you're taking her side, Brand!" Anna burst out, pointing an accusing finger at me. "She's got you and Dad and Mattie poisoned now. Don't you see that?"
Brandon gave her a withering stare as he stood and offered a hand to help me up. "What I see is you acting like a brat, Anna."
Her blue eyes widened angrily. "A brat? A brat—"
"I understand your concern, Anna, and I admire the fact that you're protective of your family," I interjected softly although my gaze never wavered from her. "I'm not out to turn either Martin or Brandon or even Mattie against you. You don't have to like me. You don't have to get along with me. You don't even have to be nice to me. But don't antagonize your father or brothers because of me because you'll always lose when you jeopardize your relationship with your family trying to pick a fight with someone who has no interest in having one with you. All you'll manage to accomplish is wasting precious time and energy, sabotaging yourself and hurting people you care about along the way. I don't imagine my suffering is worth much more than all that."
Her mouth opened in an automatic response to dish something back but she blinked rapidly as if she couldn't either find or form the words.
"We're leaving," Brandon announced before either of his sisters could say anything else.
He grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the door.
Once out in the hallway, I sighed out loud. "I'm sorry I'm causing trouble between you and your sisters but I felt that I needed to say that. I don't have illusions that they're going to just love me all of a sudden so it's probably better that we just all agreed to disagree peacefully and move on."
"If that was how you stood up to Anna in high school, I can see why she would find you intimidating enough to prompt her into taking the offensive with you."
I glanced up at to see if he was upset but he was smiling in amusement at me.
"I wasn't going out of my way to provoke people like your sister," I said sulkily, irritated that he seemed to be enjoying my predicament.
"You probably didn't but when they provoked you, you made no bones about exactly what you thought of their actions and called them out for it," he said with a shrug as if he perfectly understood my reasons. "If there's one thing people hate, it's having begrudging respect for their enemies."
I groaned and ran a hand down my face. "If I'm going to wing this whole marriage thing with you for a year, I can't afford enemies. The less people I have interested in me and our unusually quick engagement, the better I'm able to pull this off."
His hand, the one I didn't realize was still holding mine until he tightened his grip, seized me in place, halting our walk and causing me to look up at him.
"I agree but I would never want you to stand back down when you can do what's right," he said in a firm voice.
I think someone has some begrudging respect for his unwanted wife-to-be.
I smiled mischievously at him, my brows arching. "You do know that in a roundabout way, you just told me to persist on my opinion when you're in the wrong, don't you?"
He barked out a laugh and I grinned.
Our morals were skewed, our inconvenient attraction was complicating matters and our lives were about to become one big combined chaos but at that moment, standing in the sunny hallway, holding hands and laughing, I decided that Brandon and I were going to be alright.
================
Hello everyone!
Hope you've been having a good weekend so far. I couldn't resist so here's another chapter for you. Thank you so much for the votes and adding this book to your reading list. It keeps me motivated to know that there are people who do want to know what happens next other than just myself. LOL.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know what you think of our heroine. What do you like and dislike about her? I'd love to hear your feedback.
As usual, vote and comment if you like where we're going with this... = )
BTW, I added a photo for Charlotte and Brandon. Some people feel strongly against casting and I get why. I don't normally do it myself but some need a little more visual inspiration so it's there if you could use it. For myself, I find it easier to have a visual reference so that I don't mix up my characters' physical description but I don't normally show it to people.
Thank you and till the next chapter!
♪♪♪ Chapter Soundtrack: Let The Rain by Sara Bareilles ♪♪♪
I want to darken in the skies
Open the floodgates up
I want to change my mind
I want to be enough
I want the water in my eyes
I want to cry until the end of time
I want to let the rain come down
Make a brand new ground
Let the rain come down
Let the rain come down
Make a brand new ground
Let the rain come down tonight
================