Brant stared at himself in the mirror, hands shaking as he tried to do his tie one more time, only to fail and nearly ram his fist into the mirror. Only he wasn’t angry—he was about to lay all his cards out on the table, and he was terrified that Nikki would walk away because she didn’t trust him.
With a deep breath, he grabbed his tie again.
“You’re going to mess it up more than you already have” came Cole’s voice, followed by his reflection in the mirror behind Brant. “Let me do it.”
Brant smirked. “Admit it, you just want to strangle me with it.”
“Hah.” Cole was already dressed and ready to go. His three-piece suit made him look like he fit in more with the Wellington family than with the hotel staff. “The idea does have merit. Maybe I’ll daydream about it later.” In less than thirty seconds, Brant’s tie was perfect and he was staring at himself in the mirror with wide eyes.
“What if she says no?” he whispered.
Cole slapped a hand on Brant’s shoulder. “You don’t let a woman like Nikki walk away from you. You walked away once, and I’ll kick your ass if you let her do the same thing to you.”
“Detailed and terrifying pep talk, Cole, thanks. You really suck as maid of honor.”
Cole’s eyes narrowed. “You know she wouldn’t want it any other way. Besides, it’s not like I’m wearing a dress.”
Brock and Bentley walked into the hotel room followed by Grandfather, all of them in matching suits.
They were ready.
It was happening.
Really happening.
He had put a plan into action less than twelve hours ago. Never let it be said that money doesn’t buy you just about anything. When Brant called his grandfather to let him know his plan, not only did his grandfather readily agree with it, but he cursed Brant to hell for making him losing a bet.
Another bet.
Seriously? Was that all his family did these days? Wager against him?
His grandfather refused to give him any details. All he knew was that Nadine bet that Brant, once he stopped being a jackass (her words, not his) would want to marry Nikki and do more than propose within the week.
His grandfather had bet that Brant would sleep with her and then run away with his tail between his legs.
Brant shook his head. Good to know that his own flesh and blood had that much confidence in him. Then again, Brant hadn’t been doing much of anything in the past four years except fucking his way through life and drinking anything that would make him feel numb.
“It’s time.” Grandfather checked his watch.
Cole held up his cell. “Let me text Annie and see where the girls are with their appointments.” He walked to the corner of the room.
Grandfather picked up a folder off the table and handed it over to Brant. “Here’s the paperwork from the divorce.”
“Shit.” Brant was already starting to sweat.
He didn’t want to take them.
He had no choice but to take them.
They were just papers, papers with black ink, papers with black ink that either decided his future or brought closure to his past.
“Son.” Grandfather grabbed Brant’s hand and closed his fingertips over the manila folder. “You’re giving her the choice she never had. The best gift you can give isn’t just your love—but the promise that regardless of what she chooses, you will never stop that love from overflowing from you and into her life, wherever she may choose to live it.”
“And if it’s not with me?” He hated asking it out loud, he hated the way he felt when those words left his lips, empty, hollow, meaningless.
The room fell silent.
“Then you have us.” Brock took a step forward and put a hand on his shoulder, followed by Bentley, and then Cole—the bastard grinned up from his phone and shrugged, as if to say, Yeah, you have me, too.
It was the first time in Brant’s life he felt like he actually belonged with his family, actually had a place. Nikki had been part of his identity, and when that was ripped away from him, he’d pushed his family away, too.
And yet they’d stood by him this entire time. Especially Bentley.
Brant rolled his eyes, then grinned down at the floor so they wouldn’t see the emotion on his face. “All right. Let’s go.”
Grandfather stopped Brant. “Before you go…I have an idea.”
* * *
Maybe a spa day wasn’t so bad. Nikki’s hands had both been massaged with the best-smelling lavender lotion, followed by her feet and calves. Her hair was brushed—which any woman knew could be so hypnotic that you wanted to fall asleep.
Makeup was last.
But even the makeup smelled good. Like brown sugar, as the brushes slid across her face.
And then, lipstick. It felt red. She had no idea how it felt red—it just did.
“All done.” Carol’s voice sounded different, more reserved, than it had when she first sat in the makeup chair.
Panicked, Nikki wished she could see herself, just once, just to know if she looked as pretty as she felt. Then again, maybe it was easier if she didn’t know. It meant her confidence had to come from some other place, a place that wouldn’t fade with age or get broken down by people’s stares.
“Do I look okay?” she asked, careful not to touch her face, not after her hands had been slapped away numerous times by Carol, and then again by Nadine when she’d checked in on their progress. It wasn’t her fault she was used to feeling everything in order to imagine what things looked like!
“You look”—Carol sucked in a sharp breath—“like Snow White.”
Nikki grinned wide. “She was always my favorite, you know, minus the whole living with a whole bunch of single, messy men.”
Carol snorted. “Okay, let’s get you to the Zen room.”
“The Zen room?” She frowned. “Why would I be going to the Zen room after getting all of this work done?”
“Stop asking questions.” Carol helped her stand and then walked with her arm in arm.
“Where is everyone?”
“What did I say about questions?” Carol reminded her.
“Geez, you and Nadine Titus could be related.”
Carol chuckled and then said, “She’s my great-aunt.”
“I hate how that makes sense.”
“Annie’s a distant cousin, not blood related.”
“What?”
“And Cole, well, Cole will have to tell you that story someday. But he’s the closest to the Titus blood line, I’m sure he had his reasons from keeping you in the dark. He doesn’t necessarily like telling people his connections with one of the richest families in the U.S.”
“Is that what this is about? Cole leaving?”
“Like I would ever abandon you,” Cole said. “You look like a princess.”
“Snow White,” Nikki offered for him. “Does that mean I’m really pale?”
“You’re perfect.” Cole leaned in and wrapped an arm around her. “Are you ready?”
“For what?”
He paused and then said, “Everything.”
They walked in silence and then the familiar scents of the Zen room, the peppermint and the lemon, hit her senses, making her feel instantly at ease.
“Do me a favor, Nik,” Cole whispered in her ear. “Be brave.”
Nadine Titus’s words rang out in her mind as Cole released her arm and took a step back.
“What’s going on?”
“I thought it made sense, having your best friend of four years walk you toward me.” Brant’s gruff voice pounded in her ears, making her heart leap in her chest. “After all, he refuses to let me forget that the day I walked away, he stepped in, and for that I’ll never forgive myself. And I’ll always be forever in his debt.”
Don’t cry. Do. Not. Cry.
“The thing is.” Brant was suddenly a blur of black and white in front of her. He smelled like heaven. He smelled like memories. He smelled like her best mistake—and greatest triumph. He smelled like the rest of her life—her future. “I love you.” Her heart stopped and then slammed so hard she had to suck in air to remember to breathe. “But pressuring you into staying with me, seducing the hell out of you, tying you to my bed, while they all sound like the best ideas I’ve ever had—they aren’t practical, and they don’t involve one very important thing.” He sighed, his fingertips grazing her chin as he tipped her face toward his body. “True love doesn’t trap. It doesn’t bribe. It offers a choice.”
A folder of papers were set in her right hand, and her fingers curled around it. “Our marriage contract is in here, along with a check for the money that should have been yours the minute you signed the divorce papers four years ago. I was too lost in my own grief to double-check that things were taken care of. I ignored my lawyer’s calls, and finally he stopped calling.”
“We really are still married,” she said in a stunned voice, suddenly needing to sit down. What did that mean? What did any of it mean?
“But we don’t have to be,” he said, quietly shattering her heart into a million pieces.
Tears welled. She couldn’t speak.
“This is your choice, Nik. In that folder is our marriage contract and our divorce papers. Sign them, and the settlement of twenty million dollars is yours.”
She gaped.
“Or—” Movement happened in front of her and then he took her left hand and lowered to one knee. “You could make me the happiest man alive, and marry me again, right here, right now, in front of all of our friends.”
Her right hand felt heavy with the documents, with the past that was included in them.
Her left—light.
“I’m not perfect.” She clung to his voice like a lifeline. “I think we both know that I don’t deserve you, but I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re worth it, that love is worth it. I want to prove—” His voice hitched. “I want our little boy when he looks down from heaven to see his mama in love. I want him to know that his dad tried the hardest to make her smile, so she forgets all the days—years—that he made her cry.” Tears fell in rapid succession down her cheeks. “Nikki, will you marry me? Again?”
The contracts fell out of her hands, making a slapping noise on the floor, and then she was on her knees reaching for Brant, trying to find his face, but before she could find his mouth, it was already pressed against hers in a healing kiss.
A kiss of both closure and new beginnings.
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “I’ll marry you…again.”
He slid a ring on her left hand, linking his fingers between hers, deepening the kiss, and then he grabbed her right hand and pressed it against his chest.
It felt just like her shirt.
She skimmed her fingertips down.
It was in Braille, too!
She knew it!
Still kissing him, she felt out the word and then gasped against his mouth, and tried like hell to keep herself from crying harder. “Groom. Your shirt says groom.”
“Care to guess what yours says?”
“Sexy?” she teased.
“Not enough space to put all the adjectives, Nik, but I kept one of the most important ones.” He grabbed her hand and slid her fingertips across the word.
“Bride.” She sucked in a harsh breath. “Well, that could have been awkward had I signed those contracts, huh?”
Their laughter floated between them, and then they were kissing again, the contracts forgotten. And the people waiting outside the room completely forgotten.
Until a certain shrill voice yelled, “Well!? Did she say yes?”
“Nadine.” They said the word in unison, like a curse, but with humor in their voices.
“She’ll just fight her way past Cole if we don’t let her in.” Brant stood and helped her to her feet. “Besides, we have a wedding to get to.”
Nikki froze. “Today?”
“Yup.” His grip tightened. “I hope you like your dress.”
The minute the door to the Zen room was pushed open, she was hauled away from Brant amid cheers and bursts of color.