by Mia Kayla
What hadn’t been discussed fully was how we would tell Sarah and Mary about us.
We’d touched on it briefly, but we hadn’t gone into detail. That was something that Charles would have to take on. We already knew that Mary would be adaptable, given that she was so young. But Sarah … we both worried about Sarah.
As I was frying the bacon, Charles grabbed me, hugging me from behind. “I just love how my mornings have changed. I don’t want to go to work.”
He kissed my neck and held me close. At one point, he took my hand holding the spatula, and we fried the eggs together.
“I can’t wait for our date tonight,” he said, causing goose bumps to form against my skin.
His lips went from my neck to my shoulder, and I exhaled a heavy sigh. Being with him, our new day-to-day was a dream I never wanted to wake up from.
“My brothers will be over at six thirty. So, we’ll leave by then.”
I turned to face him, curious now about what he had told them. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” He smiled. “Yet. But I’m gonna tell them at work today. I’m going to tell them that we’re dating. Because”—his smile widened—“that’s how I roll.” Then, he winked, which was so unlike Charles. “I just told them that I had plans and I needed either of them to watch the girls. They both volunteered.”
“Dad?”
Charles jumped two steps away from me, and I dropped the spatula on the floor when Sarah entered the kitchen. She raised an eyebrow, taking us in as though she knew something was up.
Charles always said she was an old soul, even at the tender age of ten. And I knew she’d seen us. A part of me wondered how long she’d been standing there.
“Mary’s crying,” she said. “I have no idea what it is this time. She’s just whiny. And she’s asking for you.”
Charles was almost out of the kitchen when he said, “Okay. I’ll take care of it.”
Studying me with curious, narrowed eyes, Sarah sat down at her regular spot at the table.
“Bacon and eggs. That’s what we’re having this morning.” My voice sounded nervous. How could it not?
Tonight was our first date, and the girls still had no idea.
Charles
I tapped my pencil against the boardroom table, unable to stop this nervous tic I had. We were going over next quarter’s projections, and I couldn’t keep my head in the game.
Mason sat next to me, head deep in his financial statements. We were waiting on Brad.
I’d always been up front with my brothers. So, why the hell was I so nervous right now?
“What time do you need us there tonight?” Mason asked, flipping through the financials. “Where is Becky going? Why isn’t she available again?”
I peered down at my watch. I didn’t want to say this twice. “Where is Brad?”
And right on cue, he strolled into the boardroom with that easy stride. He plopped down in his regular spot, to the right of me, laughing, slapping a magazine on the table.
“What’s so funny?” Mason asked.
“Sonia.”
Mason glared at him. “What now?”
“Nothing. She’s just funny.” He waved a hand toward the magazine, knocked on the table twice, and placed his ankle on his knee. “Check out page forty-four. It’s hot off the press, not even on the stands yet.”
I picked up the magazine and flipped through the pages. Opening to the page Brad had mentioned, I laid the magazine flat on the table. Brad’s smile was small yet charming, his elbows on his knees, as if he were sitting against our black leather recliner at home. He looked relaxed, at ease, and—though I’d never admit it to him out loud because his ego was already bigger than life itself—very sharp.
“Brad Brisken leads the company at Brisken Printing Corporation as VP of acquisitions and sales by day, but by night, this single man is helping his widowed brother raise two little girls. When he’s not working, he’s playing Barbies or watching princess movies.” My eyes flipped to Brad.
“What?” He cheesed. “I know. It sounds insensitive. I guess it’s a way for them to sell papers. It’s a great picture of me, isn’t it? The tie is fine, but that”—he pointed to the table for emphasis—“that is a great photo.”
“It is.” I flipped to the next page, which showcased a mirage of photos. Brad laughing with Mary. Us in the bathroom, cleaning up the mess that Mary had caused. Becky laughing beside me. Brad drying off Mary and getting her changed. Downstairs by the swings, all of us playing in the yard.
The collage made me gulp. I loved this picture of us, the idea of this being our future. Becky just fit. She molded nicely into our family.
“The pictures turned out great.” Wife or death. Brad would definitely be getting prospects for the wife part after this magazine when into circulation.
Brad reached for the magazine and tucked it into his side. “Okay, let’s go. Projections. I still gotta take off a little early to pick up the Frozen Monopoly game for the girls tonight. Where are you going anyway? Is Becky not available?”
I swallowed and readjusted my tie. “Uh, I’m taking Becky on a date tonight.”
“Wait, what?” Mason blinked at me.
His mouth opened again, and I shot his next question down with a stare.
Brad smirked. “What happened between you guys? You can share it with me. After that little accident, I saw you carry her, wet swimsuit and all, up to your room.”
“Nothing happened.” Then, I shook my head.
I’d asked Brad what he’d told the girls on why we’d disappeared. He’d told them that I took Becky to the hospital to check if she was okay. I’d let that lie slide since he had put the girls to bed that night.
“What accident?” Mason’s voice heightened.
Brad pursed his lips. “We forgot to tell you about all the drama on Tuesday. Becky thought Mary had drowned when Mary was only floating like Superman underwater.”
Mason’s mouth slipped agape.
“Becky jumped in the pool. Too bad the girl doesn’t know how to swim.” Brad threw Mason an all-knowing smirk, most likely amused that Mason didn’t know this. Mason did always want to be in the know.
His mouth slipped open even wider.
“Worst day to be sleeping over at your girlfriend’s house, little bro.” Brad sported a cocky smirk. “Someone got action. Satisfaction.”
I rolled my neck from side to side, breathing out my annoyance. “Nothing happened. I haven’t even taken her out on a date.”
“Yes, but you’ve been living together for a bit now, so this dating action doesn’t matter,” Brad said.
I groaned. “It does.” It did to me.
Mason rubbed at his brow, as if the whole thing was exhausting him. “We still know nothing about her.”
“That’s not true,” I said, my voice hard.
Maybe they didn’t know her, but I did. I knew her heart, I knew how well she fit in my arms, and I knew I was in love with her.
Brad cocked an eyebrow. “Are you saying that she talked to you?” He placed both elbows on the table. “Really talked to you?” He leaned in, leveling me with a stare.
My jaw tightened. Nosy bastards. “Yes, she did. And, yes, she has a past. And, no, you guys are not privy to it unless she wants to tell you herself.”
Mason ground his molars. “Who is she running from?”
“Mason …” I warned coolly.
But he wasn’t backing down. “Who? If that person is crazy, we have a right to know.”
My fist pounded against the table, my patience thin. “One, I won’t let anything happen to my family, and two, what you get is what Becky herself decides to share with you. Period. The end.” I grabbed my copy of the projections, flipping to the first page balance sheet, challenging them to say one more word.
Brad nodded slowly. “Got it.” He flipped to the first page of his copy. “And I’ve decided. Frozen Monopoly is happening at my place in the city. I’ll bring the girls back on
Sunday.”
I sighed. “Brad, you don’t have to do that.”
He shrugged. “I know. But I’m the better brother, so …” He winked.
If he wasn’t helping me out, I’d slap him.
There was no comeback from Mason. Silently brooding, he flipped to the first page of the financials.
Basking in Mason’s silence, Brad grinned. “Let’s get this over with. Someone has a big date to get ready for.”
Chapter 26
Becky
“Where are we going?” I couldn’t hide this giddy smile on my face. I slung my bag over my shoulder as Charles led me to the car. My hair swished against my back in a low ponytail, and I sported these dangling earrings. My silk yellow shirt, which reminded me of sunshine, hugged my frame, and I wore the stonewashed jeans he had promised I could wear.
So, as we walked to the car, I was on edge with curiosity.
When he opened the door to his Porsche, I stepped inside, and before he shut it, he said, “Where we’re going is a surprise.”
I tried not to frown. Surprises were not my favorite because, in my lifetime, most of my surprises had been tragic, hurtful, and caused me pain. As soon as this thought registered, I pushed it away and peered up at Charles in his light-blue polo shirt and casual jeans. Then, I decided this was my happy place—in this car, with him.
Charles held my hand as he drove us to our destination—wherever that was. It felt strange, holding this man’s hand, our fingers intertwined, because I hadn’t held anyone’s hand intimately in this way in a long time. His hold was strong, his fingers firm, as though he was sure, so sure of this day, so sure of us.
Charles embodied strength in his stance, in the power of his walk, and now, even his hand-holding. When we pulled up to a park reserve, I already knew what we were up to.
I turned to face him. “Are we going on a picnic?” I beamed. “Just so you know, I’ve never been on a picnic before.”
“Will you stop spoiling my surprise?” That small smile he rarely showed popped up on his face, making me sigh silently.
We passed the park district farther down a gravel road and to an empty field, except for a large truck towing a trailer behind it.
Odd. If we were having a picnic, I’d guess it would be at a lake, at the park, somewhere scenic, except for a lone truck on an open field.
He placed his car in park and stepped out. I heard the trunk open before he stepped around to open my door. “Let’s go.” His one hand went to mine, like magnets meant to unite, and in his other hand, he held a cute wicker picnic basket. It had frilly red-and-white plaid fabric that outlined the top, which seemed way too girlie for someone of his height and stature.
“Are we having picnic on that truck?” I said, being cheeky, squeezing his hand harder.
“You’re funny.” Then, he tugged me faster toward the truck, and the closer I approached, the more my heart sped up in my chest because on the back of the truck was a life-sized wicker basket.
Three burly guys jumped from the truck and greeted us. “Hey, Charles.”
“Hey, guys.” He tugged me against him, slipping his arms over my shoulders. “Noah, James, Tony … this is Becky.”
After I shook their hands, Noah, the taller one with a full-on beard, said, “Today is a good day to fly.”
I blinked up at him. “Fly?”
“Yeah, fly.” Charles sported a full-on smile this time, and I paused for a moment, ignoring his words and simply just took it in.
Fly?
The two men carrying the basket from the trailer broke me from my momentary staring. After they placed it on the ground, I realized that the basket was meant to be ridden.
My eyes widened, and I jumped. “Charles!”
His voice was a low rumble directly behind me. “Have you ever experienced a hot air balloon ride?”
“Yeah.” My voice was breathless, dazed.
He reeled back. “You have?”
“I mean, kinda. If you mean, experience it as in watching it on television. I watched a romantic comedy once where the hero surprised the woman and took her on a hot air balloon ride on their first date. I think you must’ve watched it.”
“Are you saying this is cliché?” His eyes followed Noah and James, who pulled out the balloon from the bag and unwrapped it on the field. “I guess it’s not really original.”
My gaze traveled back to him. Is he pouting? Good God, it was the beginning of a pout. I doubted that word was even in his vocabulary.
“I’m kidding, Charles. It’s perfect.” I turned to face him fully. “Seriously, it’s perfect that it’s in the movies. I always dreamed about being that girl, wined and dined.”
He nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. “It’s not original. I mean, the last time I went on a first date was in high school. The first date I ever took Nat on was to the movies and to the local Steak ’n Shake. It’s been a while, so I”—he averted his stare, looking almost bashful—“I googled romantic first dates.”
The corners of my lips turned down, trying to keep in my smile. Now, wasn’t he the cutest? “I love it. It’s perfect.” I snuggled next to his side, and my arms wrapped around his waist.
A hint of a smile surfaced. “And I did bring the wine, if you were wondering.” He lifted up his picnic basket.
Ahead of us, the two men had spread the balloon flat across the field. The nylon was an array of bright colors of the rainbow—vibrant yellows, oranges, reds, greens, purples and blues.
“Can both of you assist us?” James called out.
They positioned us at the bottom of the balloon, at the opening, which was called the mouth.
James placed the edge of the balloon in my hands. “All you have to do is hold on tight. We’re going to get the burners started and fill this baby up. Whatever you do, don’t let go.”
I nodded, but my heart was beating like crazy.
Charles was on the other end, mirroring holding the mouth of the balloon. He staggered his stance, and so did I. When Noah ignited the burners, hot air blasted in my face, but then the balloon inflated, getting wider. The bigger the balloon got, the harder it was to hold the nylon. It felt as though I was being pulled. I planted my feet firmly on the ground and took in the multitude of colors in front of me. I almost felt like I was inside the balloon; watching it blow up to its full capacity was beyond amazing.
There went my cute ponytail. Escaping strands were everywhere. But it didn’t matter because as I got whipped by my hair, I was smiling like a loon. I peered over at Charles, and he was beaming, a full-on, all-out smile. It was beautiful. It lit up his face.
They tilted the wicker basket to its side and positioned it at the opening of the mouth. I stepped back, watching as they tied the balloon to the basket. And then James and Noah tipped it over until it was standing up.
One hand flew to my mouth as I tilted my chin all the way back, taking in the height and mass of the vibrant balloon.
“Ready?” Charles yelled above the burners blowing.
I nodded, and he ushered me to the basket. It was tall, the top resting right underneath my breast line.
“You’re going to have to hop up on the lip, and we’ll help you inside,” Noah said. “Like this.” With his arms, he used the lip of the basket to lift his butt to the edge and swing his legs inside the basket in one swift movement. “Easy.”
I laughed. “Sure. Says the man who’s a good head taller than me.”
“I’ll help you up,” Charles said, dropping the picnic basket on the floor.
“No, I’m pretty sure I can …” I was struggling when, without warning, Charles lifted me like I was a feather, his body close to mine, his hands at my sides. My breath hitched when my feet came off the ground. I was supposed to grab the lip of the basket and use my arms to get me on the edge, but I failed, falling into him.
Heat rushed my body everywhere we were connected, my breasts crushing against his hard chest, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. And when I peered up
at him, I saw the mirrored heat in his eyes.
“Let me help you up, Becky,” Noah said, oblivious to the fireworks going off between us.
Charles flashed him a not-so-happy look, and his eyes met mine again. “Listen, use your arms to pull yourself up and anchor your butt on the edge.” He tipped his chin toward Noah. “And then you can help her when she swings her legs into the basket.”
I smirked. Is he jealous? There was a definite fiery spark in his eyes as he stared Noah down. I think he is.
“Ready?” he asked.
I used my arms to pull myself up with all the strength I had. When I was at the edge of the basket, I lifted my knees to my chest and fell in backward.
I yelped before Noah caught me, and then I stood and pushed my hair out of my face. I looked over at Charles, who handed the picnic basket to James, and then he hopped in gracefully, as though he’d done this a million times before.
He had asked me, but I’d never asked him.
“Have you ever ridden in one of these?”
“No. I always wanted to. I wanted to take the girls, but they’re not tall enough to see over this basket, so what’s the point?”
Our attention was back on Noah as he said, “Okay, we’re going to take off soon. Sky is clear, and there is no sign of rain. Let’s go.”
Tony unhooked the anchors, and we were off. I leaned over the edge of the basket, watching Tony and his truck shrink into a little figure below. We brushed against some tree branches as we were lifted higher. We were flying. Really flying. Above the houses, above the trees.
It felt unbelievable. I felt free and, at this height, like I could breathe freely. I inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh air.
“This is amazing,” I breathed. “Isn’t it beautiful up here?”
Charles’s arm brushed against mine as we took in the scene below us. “I couldn’t agree more.” But he was staring at me, his brown eyes intently on me, and my cheeks warmed.
We rose higher into the clouds. As the city disappeared below us, all we could see were the whites and blues of the sky and clouds around us, caging us in, as though we were in the heavens.
