by Shayla Black
After securing his own bike and unfastening the strap beneath his chin, he followed Rafe inside the bar. The host waved them in when they said they wanted their usual table on the patio.
Fans hung from the overhead beams, and the blades churned through the humid evening air.
“Business problems?” Rafe asked when they both had cold glasses of beer in front of them.
“No.” That was fine. “Better than usual.” Maybe because of the hours he’d been putting in. Generally he took a few evenings off a week, but since Lizzie had closed the door in his face almost a month ago, he’d worked eighteen hours a day, and twenty on several occasions.
Rafe took a drink and waited.
Irritated, Braden slammed his glass onto a coaster. “What’s to say there’s something wrong?”
“Besides your riding speed and the fact your eyeballs look like you dragged them across sandpaper?” He took a drink. “Or perhaps it’s your general asshole-ish attitude. If we wanted that, we could have invited Jax.”
Jaxon Mills was an internet marketing guru though Braden didn’t understand the man’s appeal. Asshole was a great word for him. His staunchest allies said he was blunt, even to the point of rudeness—but that he was only being honest and telling people what they needed to hear. Some called him a motherfucker. Still, people who did as he ordered tended to have extraordinary success. He had some sort of intuition that the rest of the planet lacked. And recently, he’d taken a mighty fall from the sacred bachelorhood platform. Of course, he’d done it in Jaxon style, telling the entire world Willow was the world’s greatest woman. He ranted about how fortunate he was and how his recent marriage was the best in the history of the planet.
“Gonna tell me about it? Or should we just get drunk and stare at one another?”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Brotherhood.”
They were both Titans—members of the Zeta Society. Their bond of secrecy superseded all others. “It’s Lizzie.”
“Ah.” Rafe took a long drink.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“She asked for a transfer after this opening.”
“She…” Braden put down the glass he’d just picked up.
“You didn’t know?”
How the hell would he? She hadn’t taken his calls, and her mother didn’t talk about her, even when he asked. “She’s not interested in me.”
“Not the impression I had that night at the party.”
“Something about a reputation.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
Braden scowled.
“If a man has changed, how would the woman he wants know that? How could she trust it?”
“Roses?”
“Works with some.” Rafe shrugged. “I tried it myself. Painful experience. You ever been in a flower shop? Once is enough.” He took another fortifying drink. “But would the woman in question think he’s just trying to get back in her good graces?”
Was that what he’d be trying to do?
She’d accused him of being a womanizer. And maybe that was true. Or, rather, it had been true, until her.
From the moment they’d reconnected, something had changed in him. For the first time in his life, he’d had something much more powerful than a physical attraction to a woman. This time it was emotional.
In the years since he’d seen her, she’d blossomed, radiating with confidence. She held fast to her ideals and refused to be with a man who didn’t want the same things she did.
“Can you blame her?”
Rafe’s words jarred Braden from his thoughts, and he shook his head. “What?”
“Some women don’t want flowers or pretty words. They need commitment.”
He shuddered.
Rafe signaled for the server to bring them another round. “There’s a tradeoff. Always.”
“My parents. Yours. Fuck, even Jaxon’s.” Rafe’s dad had taken off with a younger woman, almost wrecking the family business. Jaxon had grown up in such a screwed-up, dysfunctional house that it was amazing he was even halfway normal.
“No one would blame you if you keep doing what you’re doing.”
Their fresh drinks arrived. As he picked up his glass, he studied Rafe. “You happy?”
“Yeah.” Rafe took a drink. “Never thought I would be, but…” He took a second drink. “Here I am. Having a partner. Someone to wake up next to. Talk to. And her damn cat.” He grinned stupidly.
“A cat?” Seriously? “A cat?”
“The Colonel. Though she may be due for a promotion soon. She’s even more bossy than ever.”
A cat? “Earth to Rafe.”
“I’ll give it to you straight,” he said once he stopped grinning. “Being with someone who has your back?” He shook his head. “Makes everything worthwhile. You just get to choose what you want.”
The conversation turned to business, the Astros baseball team, then to football. After nachos and street tacos, they said their goodbyes. Rafe was going straight home while Braden wanted to work off some of his tension.
Hours later, it was dark. And the exercise hadn’t helped.
“Do you want to go with me to my aunt’s?” Lizzie asked Crystal after they collapsed at the Galleria’s food court, following their latest shopping expedition. Because Lizzie had been so down, she’d gone shopping every weekend.
“Oh my God. Tell me it’s not Triple T night.”
“Yeah. It is.” For Lizzie, it was likely to be heavy on the tequila.
“I knew I shouldn’t have procrastinated on my meal prep.”
“On the other hand, you might be able to talk Aunt Virginia into giving you a to-go box, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about tomorrow’s lunch.
“Damn, girl. You know how to tempt me.”
“But no, right?” The truth was, Lizzie would appreciate her friend providing a distraction. Her mother had noticed her listlessness, and the way she’d gotten teary eyed when she’d held Estella’s newborn baby girl. She’d managed to make her getaway before Mom could corner her, but earlier she’d texted to say she wanted to talk. Her time was up. And she had no idea what she was going to say.
“Any word from the guy you bought the dress for?”
“I didn’t buy the dress for him!”
“Oh, girl. You’re lyin’ and you know it.” Crystal grinned.
“Fine. Yes. I heard from him.” Twice, he’d had flowers delivered to her office. She’d promptly put them on the front desk for others to enjoy and so that she didn’t have to think about him every time she looked at them or inhaled their fragrance.
“He can’t be ugly.”
“No.” She shook her head with a grin. “Definitely not. A full-on hottie.”
Crystal picked up a napkin and waved it in front of her face. After they both succumbed to a round of giggles, she tried again. “So he has to be craptacular in bed.”
“No!”
“Ha! You slept with him!”
Instead of answering, she uncapped her water bottle and took a long drink to hide her embarrassment.
“So what’s the problem? Oh, wait! He’s unemployed. Bastard needs to get a job.”
“He’s loaded.” In fact, she knew more about him than ever before. In the days right after he’d taken her home, she’d spent hours doing research about him and the Zeta Society. She learned Braden hadn’t followed his father into the family business, but rather, he went to work for a brokerage firm, then started his own company when he attained a seven-figure income. No doubt his influential friends allowed him access to their portfolios. The service he offered was unique. He spent his days talking to people, flying around the world, connecting investors with opportunities, some of which were incredibly risky but carried great potential.
And there was precious little on the internet about the Zetas, but she now knew its members were known as Titans—a phrase coined by an intrepid reporter sometime in the 1930s.
“I’m running
out of things here. Help me out. He was mean to you. Is that it? He better not have been, ’cause I’ll deck him.”
The image of five-foot-nothing Crystal taking on Braden was comical.
“Help me out before I ask what’s wrong with you.”
“I don’t want to be girlfriend number six thousand.”
“Oh.” Crystal stabbed her straw in her diet soda. “Well, fuckydoodle.”
“And girlfriend is a loose term. More like a series of affairs.”
“You were right to dump him.”
Was that what she had done? It didn’t feel like that to her. “Well, anyway, I told Rafe that I’m up for a transfer once this hotel is open.” It might be another month or so, which definitely seemed a lifetime away.
“Where?”
When she opened hotels, Crystal often traveled to join Lizzie. She arranged comped rooms, and as a result, they’d spent time in a number of cities, including a couple overseas. “Not sure yet.”
“Ask for Singapore.”
“I’m not sure we’re ready to do that yet.”
Crystal stabbed her drink again. “Somewhere exotic.”
“I did tell Rafe I was willing to go overseas.”
They chatted for a few minutes before Lizzie had to leave to drive to her aunt’s house, and once she arrived, she was glad she decided to go. Being surrounded by the noise and mayhem and a shot of tequila was just what she needed to throw off the shroud of melancholy that had dropped on her shoulders while she was talking to Crystal.
And since she was in such a good mood, Lizzie sought out her mother in the kitchen. Might as well get it over with before the tequila buzz faded and she had to drive home.
She picked up a towel and began drying the dishes her mom had just rinsed.
“Something’s bothering you. You didn’t avoid me for this long even when you were a teenager. Man problems?”
Lizzie wasn’t squeamish talking about relationship problems with her mother, but the fact was, she rarely had any trouble. She had her priorities in order, and she never had trouble moving on.
“Work issues? I met your boss that day, you know. At the Gallaghers’ party. He said very nice things about you. So it can’t be that.”
“It’s not.”
“So it’s a man.”
“Braden.” There. She’d blurted it out.
Eileen grinned. “I knew it.”
“What?” So she didn’t drop it, Lizzie put down the glass she was holding. Around them, other conversations droned, drowning out their discussion. Someone was yelling, “Shots, shot, shots!” in the dining room, and someone else had turned on the television, and Estella’s baby began to cry. Sunday evening at Aunt Virginia’s.
Truthfully, there wasn’t anywhere else she’d rather be.
“He’s a good man.”
She turned her back to the counter so she could look at her mom better.
“He needs a good woman.”
“I don’t know about that. He’s got a million or so hanging around.”
“Are you certain?”
Her mother would know. “But… I found his tie in the living room.”
“Did you ask him about it?”
“Are you telling me there’s a simple explanation and that the woman might not be Braden’s…” She struggled for the right word. “Girlfriend?”
“I think it’s easy to make judgements. How well do you really know him?”
Perhaps not as well as she thought. “He told me he belongs to the Zeta Society.”
“Did he?” She tipped her head to one side. “It’s not something he shares with most people. It means something.”
Lizzie’s mind spun off in a dozen different directions. Had she been wrong about him?
“I know it was difficult for you not having a father. But don’t let that poison the rest of your life.” Eileen touched Lizzie’s wrist. “You deserve happiness.”
Somehow Lizzie made it through the rest of the evening.
She didn’t sleep much at home, and when she did, her dreams were tortured by thoughts of Braden, and the fact she’d let fear stand in her way rather than giving him a chance.
Epilogue
Four Days Later
Halfway up the driveway, Lizzie stopped her car in shock.
Braden was on her front doorstep, pacing back and forth, his hair raked back and his blue tie askew. She wasn’t sure he’d ever looked more handsome.
For long moments, she sat there, debating what to do.
But he made the decision easier. Obviously sensing her indecision, he jogged down the steps and followed the path leading to the driveway. Then he shoved his hands into his pockets and waited while she moved the gear shifter into Park.
He rocked back and forth as he waited for her to exit, and when she did, he took a respectful step back.
“Lizzie…” His voice cracked, and so did the ice around her heart.
How long had he been here, standing outside in the relentless Houston heat and humidity?
“I…” He gave a rueful grin. “I had a speech. Jaxon helped me with it, even.”
“Jaxon?”
“Jaxon Mills. You know, the internet star who has magical woo-woo words for every occasion.”
“I adore him.” And Braden for taking a risk and asking his friend.
“Tell me to leave if you want. And I promise I’ll never contact you again.”
That might be the safer option. But since she’d seen him last, she’d been an emotional wreck. It was difficult to believe that an actual breakup could be any worse. The time she’d spent with him had been wonderful, and she knew that if they were together, there would be dozens, hundreds of other experiences that would be equally spectacular.
If she refused to take a risk, she might not have further pain, but she’d also miss out on the joy.
In the end, which was worse?
“I’ve missed you,” he said. “I’ve been walking around the house at night. When you were there, I had a sense of comfort. I didn’t realize that until after you left. And I talked to Rafe.”
She blushed, not sure how she felt about that. He was her boss.
Quickly, Braden shook his head. “Not about you. Or us. About my reputation. Love. How to show a woman you’ve changed.”
“I think I”—Could she be less brave than he was?—“may have been too quick to judge. My dad, he, ah, abandoned us.” She shrugged. “You probably know all about my family, though.” After all, he spent as much time with her mom as she did. “I saw how many hours my mom had to work to take care of me, the sacrifices she made, the years we lived with family and shared a bedroom. I didn’t want to make any bad choices when it came to men. So that meant I’ve been unwilling to take any risks.”
“Maybe I’m glad. I might delude myself into believing you’ve been saving yourself for me.” His smile was endearing.
He still hadn’t come closer, and he was still nervously moving his hands around in his pockets.
“I need to be honest, Braden. I’m not interested in being someone you forget tomorrow.”
“Lizzie…Lizzie. I won’t forget you tomorrow, or in a million tomorrows.”
Then, in her driveway, mindless of anyone who might drive by or be outside watching, he dropped to one knee. “I love you.”
She grabbed hold of the car door for support.
A part of her might have adored him for years, since the time he was kind to her when she was younger, less confident.
“Will you marry me?” He pulled out a ring with a gigantic diamond. She’d never seen anything that size.
“Why?”
He blinked. “Why?”
“I… I didn’t expect this.” She shook her head. Not in a million years. “Braden, you don’t need to do this. We can date.” She blushed. “Have sex.”
“That’s not what I want.”
She was confused.
“You’re the one, Lizzie. You’re not someone I want to date or have an a
ffair with. You’re the woman I want to marry, to cherish and adore for all eternity.”
The picture he created was one she wanted, with all of her being. Yet she still tried to be practical. One of them needed to be. “We don’t know each other that well.”
“Is that true? I’ve known you most of my life. I know you’re honest. You have integrity. And damnably high standards.” He smiled up at her. “You’ll demand that your husband behave in a certain way. And I want to be that man for you. I want to be the father of your children. Let me prove myself worthy of your love every single day.”
“Braden…” Her heart exploded with love.
“Marry me, Elizabeth Lizzie Ryan.”
“But…”
“Tell me.”
“My career. I don’t want to quit.” But she didn’t want to be away from Braden either.
“We can figure it out. I can work from almost anywhere, or you can fly home from time to time? I’m not asking you to give up anything, I’m asking you to let me give you more than you ever imagined.”
After what he’d gone through, she knew he would never abandon her. Lizzie closed her eyes, wanting to pinch herself. Was it truly possible for dreams to come true?
“Be my bride? The other half of me? The one I go through life with?”
“Yes. Yes.” A thousand times. A thousand times a thousand. “I love you, Braden Gallagher.”
He slipped the ring on her finger, and the fit was perfect. Honestly, she didn’t care about the diamond. She cared about the man.
Then he stood. “I have champagne chilling in a cooler in my car.”
Of course he did.
He took a couple of steps toward his vehicle, then stopped and came back. Seeing him uncertain made her heart swell even more.
“I didn’t think this through.” He shrugged. “I want to carry you into the house…but we have the champagne.”
“Can it wait?”
He quirked an eyebrow in a way that let her know he was interested in what she had to say.
“I’d rather have you.”
“The champagne can wait…but I can’t!”
He scooped her from the ground and into his arms and carried her toward their future.