33. Briggs
Chapter 33
Briggs
“Nothing is left of me each time I see her.” ― Catullus
“ W hen you said you renovated our room, I wasn’t sure what to expect.” Rose strolled through our bedroom, which I’d had completely rebuilt and expanded to allow room for a larger walk-in closet and en-suite, and another room beneath it she had yet to find. That was going to be fun—both showing her and using it. “Why is it so bare?”
“I figured you’d want to put your own stamp on it. Make it ours.”
The redness in her cheeks hadn’t subsided since I told her everything—well, mostly everything. She didn’t know the extent of my family’s business and what I’d done to people before, but I already felt so much lighter than I had in years. I wasn’t going to push her any further today and unload everything on her all at once. If she ever asked or needed to know, I’d tell her then.
“My grandparents are going to think we moved too fast.”
I cocked my head. “Will they? Didn’t they get married after, what, five days of knowing each other?”
Her tongue pressed into her cheek as she eyed me down. “Yeah. I guess watching me includes knowing about them, too? Oh, and supplying them with cars. Yeah, I didn’t fall for that as easily as my grandparents did.” My smart girl forced a laugh and I bit my tongue from telling her I’d already bought her a car, too. I might have to wait to reveal that one to her. “What if I don’t want any of this?”
I leaned against the wall, running a hand through my hair. “You would have already told me if that were the case. And you haven’t.” Her silence prompted me to ask anyway. “Do you not want this?”
“It’s a lot to process.” Her small frame sank into the blanket more as she took small steps around the room. “But for some reason, this feels…right. Like I was supposed to be here, with you, all along.” I loosed a breath as her fingers skimmed the simple comforter I selected as a placeholder, knowing we’d be sleeping in it before she could make it more our style. I couldn’t wait to see exactly what that was, but I had a feeling I would love every bit of it as much as I did her.
“I’m going to go start a bath for you. I’m sure you’re sore.”
Rose laughed weakly and blushed harder. “And tired,” she added. “This bed looks comfy, though. When can we go get my clothes and things?”
I reached a hand back, cupping my neck. “I may have already called your grandfather. He’s expecting us there tonight for dinner.”
Her mouth fell open. “W-when did you call him?”
“This morning, before I made us breakfast.” Or what passed as breakfast. Thankfully, she hadn’t complained about the burnt food. I walked into the bathroom and started the bath I had every intention of joining her in. I even made sure the same citrus soap I used along with her coconut one was laid out on the edge of the garden tub.
“Why did you call him? What did you say?” Her voice carried over from the bedroom, or perhaps she was now in the closet, about to see the—“Holy shit, Briggs. Who bought all these clothes? Are these mine?”
I couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin on my face, not that she could see it from the depths of our shared closet. “I told him I wanted to meet him and invited him out to lunch, but he insisted that you and I go there together for dinner instead.” He was the one person I didn’t mind knowing where we were via their shared location, and where we were was nothing but a huge plot of land near a large lake. As for their safety—my father wouldn’t have an interest in hunting them down. Once he put two-and-two together about the mystery woman in my bed—if he ever would—he’d only come for her or me since we now lived together.
“As for the closet, I wasn’t sure under what circumstances I’d be bringing you here, so I had Rhonda purchase anything you might need.” Though I kept where we were going a secret from everyone, Rhonda was aware that I was taking Rose somewhere for an unknown duration of time. Rhonda didn’t know when it was going to happen, and truthfully, neither did I. The house wasn’t ready yet. There was still a portion of the back that hadn’t finished its renovations, but I was just overcome with blind, blissful hope that Rose would decide to stay in the house I signed over to her after the night we shared—because she loved me.
She loved me.
Maybe she’d wake up and snap out of whatever trance she was in, but for now, she was mine. And I was going to revel in that for as long as I could.
Her coconut scent enveloped me as she hugged me from behind. “You spent too much on me. I don’t know if I can accept it all.”
I took her hand from my chest and raised it to my lips. “You’re worth every penny, Rose.”
As much as I wanted to fuck Rose senseless as I sat behind her in the tub, rubbing her shoulders to ease the pain from being suspended the night before, I couldn’t stop just breathing her in. Being with her.
She rolled her neck and shoulders as I worked my thumbs into her muscles, easing her aches while mine intensified beneath the water. Fuck, it was intoxicating. She was intoxicating. She invaded every black hole in my body and filled it with her physical and mental beauty. I couldn’t find it in me to care if I ever went back to VanAndrews, back to that room with the chair that my father ordered to be filled with more than just bad businessmen, or back to anything related to what I’d been raised to do.
All I wanted was to wake up to her, to write and read, and know that she was around the corner, loving me as much as I loved her. I wanted to give her my name so we could make it something new, something better than what my father had tarnished. I wanted to throw out her damn birth control pills and fuck her raw all day long, filling her with my cum and keeping her that way even as her stomach swelled with my children. We’d raise the next line of Andrews—give them a new outlook on what being an Andrews could and should be about.
“You’re quiet,” she whispered, arching her back to look up at me.
I kissed her forehead. “Just thinking.”
She turned, the soap on her skin slick as I held her to me between my parted legs. “Do you celebrate Christmas?”
“I do. Usually, it’s just the work party and then Rhonda and I in the house. Dean and Clarissa usually come by, at some point. Why? ”
Her fingers traced the lines of the rose tattoo. “Clarissa comes over?”
I smirked, gripping her hand from my chest and squeezing it. “Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?”
Her cheeks pinked over. “No, I just—I don’t know. Isn’t that weird?”
“I never really felt anything for her. It was forced from the start—testing an arranged marriage type of situation.”
She gawked. “What? You were supposed to marry her?”
“Our fathers hoped that would be the case—or, rather, mine did. Marriage to the other side of VanAndrews means complete control of the company. But I was free from that the first time I caught her cheating. Adultery doesn’t look good in the media, so she actually helped me out quite a bit by fucking that worthless piece of shit you called a friend.” I yanked her closer, pulling her by the hand she no longer controlled as I gripped it tighter. “Now, tell me. What’s on your mind about Christmas?”
She pulled away, the soap easing her escape as she dipped under the water and blew up on the bubbles, blowing them to my chest. “Because I usually celebrate with my grandparents, and then we go to the cemetery.”
“We can do that,” I said. “New traditions sound good to me.”
She arched a brow, then added, “What about the work party? Is that something we’re doing or do I have to hide here for the rest of my life?” She giggled, telling me she didn’t believe that was really a thought I had when I first brought her here. But since Dean called this morning, I’d thought back on what he’d said to me in the club. He said I was turning to the wrong people for help—even though mostly those people were named Molly and Jack, and weren’t real people at all.
“He usually doesn’t show up until the very end, if ever. We should be good to go if you want to. It’s at the Met again this year, so you might be able to meet the director.”
“What if your dad shows up?”
I leaned forward and pulled her flush to me, wrapping her thighs around my hips. “You let me worry about that. If you want to go, we’ll go.”
“He can’t possibly do anything to me in public, right?” I started tracing the line of her spine, her wet hair dripping down as the seconds between that question passed. “Right, Briggs?”
“Right,” I replied, trying to force the thought of her being hurt by my father from my mind. He tried to kill her just for taking up so much space in my mind, and that was before I was the one who was supposed to take over the company. But, he craved control. “You’ll be safe with me. Always.”
She bit down on her lip, scanning the walls. “How did we get here?” she asked, though the question on her face seemed to ask why the fuck am I still here, risking it all, with you?
“We fell too hard,” I answered. “Like Pyramus and Thisbe.”
“Most people just say, Romeo and Juliet. No one knows who those two are.”
I leaned forward and brushed my lips over hers. “But you do.”
She pulled back and rolled her eyes. “I’m one person.”
“You’re the only person that matters to me. ”
Her hands cupped the back of my neck. “You know, we’re probably just as naive as Pyramus and Thisbe were. And Romeo and Juliet. Really any couple that so clearly should not be together.”
We were always supposed to be together.
I scrunched my nose. “I don’t think we are. I’ve had years to try to find anyone who could replace you but always came up short. You’ve always been the only one for me.”
“That’s you, Briggs. What about me, though? What does it say about me that I still love you even after knowing that your father killed my parents, and trapped me in a burning house to die? And I know that violence doesn’t seem to end with him. You beat the crap out of someone and said you’d kill them because they—”
“They were going to do terrible things to you . My father has his motives and they are shockingly no different than most men of his caliber—money and power. Two things that will never drive me.”
“What drives you, then?”
“You. Us. This.” Without warning, my cock found her entrance and I slid in, forcing her down by her hips.
“Briggs,” she said breathlessly before I captured her mouth, sealing my love for her with my lips and tongue, nipping at her bottom lip in between each slow thrust. This time, when she declared her love for me as I brought her to her climax, I didn’t stop her words. I let her cry out how much she loved me as I drove into her, finding my release shortly after in the arms of the woman I planned to spend the rest of my life with, no matter the costs.