Chapter 9
NINE
“Then let’s get married.”
Tarius blurted out the words before his brain caught up with his tongue, and his chest heated with embarrassment.
He was stuck on finding every way possible to ensure Branson got custody of his little brother—if that was Branson’s final decision on the matter, and Tarius had no doubt it would be—and Tarius’s subconscious mind had snagged the simplest solution.
Married beta couples in Sansbury who had been vetted for the adoption list could legally foster unmated or widowed omegas, typically until the omega found a mate. It could be a month, it could be up to two years or more, depending on the situation. Each was different.
The solution made perfect sense. Right?
Branson gaped at him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, his eyes rounded in shock. Then he shook his head, his expression settling into a placating smile. “You’re ridiculous, but I appreciate the offer.”
Tarius stood straighter and tightened his grip on Branson’s hips. “It’s not ridiculous. It could help you.”
“Yeah, it could, but marriage isn’t something you do on a handshake agreement to win a court case.”
“Sure, it is. Way back when Liam first came to live with my dad? When Mancini tried to take baby Layne away? Dad and Liam talked about mating as soon as Liam’s next heat hit, so they could face Mancini in court as a mated pair.”
Sometimes, Tarius had a hard time remembering his life before Liam and Layne walked into it twenty-plus years ago.
Liam had been part of a cruel, underground fight ring, which pitted pregnant omegas against each other in fistfights.
The constabulary raided the ring, thanks to intel from escaped omega fighter Jax Jenks, and saved five pregnant omegas, including Liam.
Dad had been instrumental in establishing the beta-couple fostering rules, and Liam had gone to live with Dad and Demir, while five months pregnant with Layne.
Thirteen weeks after Layne was born, Layne’s sire Hank Mancini had tried suing for custody of both his son Layne, and his mate Liam.
After quite a bit of drama, Mancini managed to briefly kidnap Liam, but Liam caused a car crash, and Mancini eventually died of his injuries.
Those few hours had been horrific for their family.
Tarius still vividly remembered sitting in the apartment he’d shared with Aven, worrying about his family’s safety, until he finally got the call that everyone was found and alive.
“Your sire and Liam are different,” Branson said. “They felt the mating bond before they agreed to mate. We’ve only been dating for two months.”
“But we’ve known each other for practically your whole life.”
“Well…yeah.”
“If you want to pursue custody of Jeuel, we can present a strong, united front to any judge who hears the case, Traditionalist or Progressive.”
Branson studied his face for a long, anxious moment, his green eyes full of confusion and…awe? “You’re serious about this. You’d actually marry me so I can get custody of a brother I’ve never met.”
“Yes.” He clasped Branson’s right hand in his and held them both over his own heart.
“I know how important family is to you. It’s the most important thing in the world to me, too.
I want to help you. I care about you and your happiness, Bran.
So much. I love you.” He’d said those words before, in a different capacity, but today he meant them in all the ways. “I’m in love with you, Branson Cross.”
“Really?” His eyes gleamed with wonder and joy and a little bit of shock. “So, are you proposing out of love or court convenience?”
“Both. And it’s okay if you aren’t sure if you’re in love with me. We care about each other, we get along amazingly well, and most of all? We respect each other.” Tarius’s heart sank. “But I am a lot older than you, so if you’d rather hold out for someone younger—”
“Hey, stop.” Branson pressed a fingertip to his lips.
“I don’t care about the age gap, and I never have.
I care about what you say, what you do, and what’s in your heart.
You have shown me a big, generous, protective, compassionate heart, Tarius Higgs.
I don’t think I know a better person than you.
” He removed his finger and replaced them with his lips.
A long, gentle press before pulling back.
“Can I hold off answering the proposal until after I speak to Jeuel?”
“Of course, absolutely. But I want you to know it’s on the table. I’ll help you fight for him any way I can.” And fight for your happiness, you sweet, sweet man.
Branson nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. Now, how about a light lunch?”
“Sure. Maybe that sandwich shop over on Carlson Street?”
“The one with the big dill pickles in a barrel?”
“That’s the one.”
Tarius kissed his boyfriend’s temple. “Sounds perfect.”
Branson was a squirrelly mess walking into Papa’s office on the third floor of a large building that housed multiple businesses and companies.
He’d been here dozens of times, usually to see Papa at work, or to drop something off from Dad, like a hot lunch.
Papa was an exceptional defense lawyer, and like many men dedicated to their jobs, he forgot to eat.
His partner, Morris Danvers, was apparently susceptible to the same thing, and Tarius had told him more than one story about making both alphas eat.
Today, he was stepping off the elevator and striding into Papa’s private office at the end of a long corridor, not necessarily as a client, but most definitely not as a visitor. He was here to speak to a long-lost relative and hear his story.
He and Tarius had stopped for sandwiches on the way, and Branson had barely stomached a simple turkey and gouda on rye bread. But he’d forced himself to eat it, so his hands weren’t shaking from hunger. And the fuel would help him concentrate.
He hoped.
Papa was already there, his computer screen blue with a telecom logo on it, the phone nearby. He glanced at his wristwatch. “Right on time, boys. How are you doing, Branson?”
I’m about to talk to a brother I never knew existed, and oh yeah, my boyfriend proposed an hour ago.
Branson was still having trouble wrapping his brain around that—even though it truly shouldn’t surprise him as much as it did.
Tarius was selfless and kind, and of course, he’d do anything to help Branson succeed in his goals.
Branson just used to imagine his first proposal was a lot more romantic and far less altruistic.
He also wasn’t sure how to answer Papa’s question. “Numb. I don’t know how to feel right now.”
“You don’t have to know,” Tarius said before Papa could. “One step at a time, remember? Do you want me here during the call?”
“For the start.” He looked at Tarius then Papa. “If things get personal or emotional, I’ll probably ask you both to leave. Sorry.”
“No, you two are entitled to privacy. This is about you, not us.”
“Thank you. Do I look okay? Do I have rye seeds in my teeth?”
“You’re adorable, and you look fine. Just be yourself, Branson. You’re a pretty great guy.”
“Okay.” Branson adored his boyfriend for being endlessly supportive during all of this. It was hard to believe that twenty-four-hours ago, he was still planning for the Gala, and now he was here. About to meet a brand-new half-brother. “Let’s make the call.”
“All right.” Papa circled to sit in his desk chair and picked up the phone’s handset.
Branson hovered nearby, unsure what to do or where to go yet.
The phone rang several times, and then the blue computer screen flashed once.
Focused on a middle-aged man in a suit, with grayish-brown hair and silver-rimmed glasses. “Mr. Paxton.”
“Mr. Cross,” Paxton said. “Right on time. I assume the young man I see over your shoulder is Branson?”
“He is. Is your client there?”
“Yes, he is. He’s a touch anxious.”
“So am I,” Branson blurted.
“Well, then, let’s not keep them waiting. This is not an official interview or anything on the record. However, what you both say is covered by attorney/client privilege. Speak freely.” Paxton glanced to his right. “Ready, son?” Paxton vacated his seat, so Papa did the same.
A slender body dressed in a t-shirt and jeans filled the screen a moment before Jeuel sat down.
Branson couldn’t move to sit as he studied the face of his supposed half-brother.
A face as familiar as it was foreign. He had straight, ashy brown hair, dark eyes, and an obvious dimple in his chin.
He also had a few thin scratches on his left cheek, and he looked absolutely terrified, his shaking visible on camera.
“Branson?” Jeuel asked in a thin, reedy voice. “I can barely see you.”
“Sorry.” Branson practically fell into the desk chair, and the wheels squealed ominously. He adjusted his position then stared. “Hi.”
“Hi. Goddess, you look more like me than Paul did. Paul took after our omegin. We both look more like our…um, I mean. Yeah.”
Branson was grateful to Jeuel for not finishing his thought. “I’d ask how you’re doing but that’s a pretty stupid question. I can’t imagine the pain you’re in.”
Jeuel’s face scrunched up, and Branson instinctively reached for the screen. Sat back. Jeuel coughed then reached off-screen. Picked up a bottled soda and sipped from it. “I don’t know what I feel anymore, except exhausted. I can’t sleep. Food is too much work. If it wasn’t for Trei, I’d be lost.”
It took Branson a split-second to recall the name. “Your omega brother-in-law?”
“Yeah.”
“Is he there with you?”
“Sort of. He came, but he fell asleep on a couch in the outer office. Neither of us have slept much since the…incident. The nightmares…”
“I’m so sorry for everything you’ve lost, Jeuel. I mean it. I love my parents and my brothers to pieces, and I came close to losing both of my brothers these last two years. I cannot imagine the agony of actually losing them.”