Chapter 39
CHARLOTTE
Ewan slows the car along the Pacific Coast Highway. I look out the window to the homes in Malibu. “Is this what Jobe and you were quietly talking about the other night?”
Brandon smiles at me. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Surprise me? You told me it’s where you wanted to buy.”
“A new home is a surprise. Hopefully, our weekend home, especially in summer.”
I grin at him. “So, you bought this?”
“Surprise.”
I laugh. “I packed my swimwear just as you asked.”
Brandon struggles to contain his excitement as we pull into the garage.
He is out of the car and opening my door before I have a chance to collect my bag and cell.
Then he takes my hand and leads me inside, leaving Ewan to close the doors behind us.
Pulling me by the arm, we rush through the kitchen and living area and out onto a lower-level balcony.
“Last one in the water has to cook dinner tonight.”
What?
On the balcony, Brandon strips out of his clothes down to what I thought was underwear, only to discover he is wearing boardshorts.
“Cheater,” I shout.
He is already down the stairs, grabbing a surfboard from beneath the balcony and sprinting toward the ocean. With the board under his arm, he jumps the waves until he plops on the board and paddles into the deep.
Ewan comes to stand beside me. “I’m going to marry a child.”
He smiles, eyes straight ahead on his asset. “Your life will never be boring.”
I smile as I watch my man stand, legs bent, and surf into the shallow. “It makes him even more irresistible,” I murmur. We watch Brandon for a few more minutes. “Did he really expect me to join him?”
“No. He asked me to show you around, and then you could decide if you wanted to take a swim.”
“Ewan. Show me the champagne. You and I can sit on the balcony and celebrate his new home.”
The following day Ewan drives Brandon and me to the office.
Brandon has a team psychology meeting to help the players level out their emotions after being on a high after winning a championship.
The celebrations can last for weeks, and we want our guys to know they have the support they need if they find themselves gambling and partying a little too hard.
Knock. Knock.
“Come in.”
Brandon peeks around the door. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
My chest tightens with his flat tone.
Something has happened.
He closes the door behind him and sits in the chair opposite my desk. “During the meeting, I received a text from Dad asking me to call.”
“Is everything okay?”
He shakes his head, his eyes fixed on his cell in his lap. “No. Mum wanted to tell me herself and decided to wait until after the championships.”
Fuck.
I round the table and sit in the chair beside him, taking his hand in mine. “What is it, babe?”
His gaze lifts and meets mine. Tears well and he doesn’t try to blink them away. “Mom has breast cancer.”
All the air leaves my lungs, and it takes a few moments to form any words. “I’m so sorry.” The words rasp out as my chest tightens.
“So am I,” he murmurs.
He stares at me as though he wishes I could read his mind. Finally, it registers. “You need to go home.”
He nods slowly.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
He shakes his head.
I can’t breathe.
“Brandon, I can go with you. You don’t need to do this alone.”
He squeezes my hand. “Thank you,” he whispers as though it’s too hard to speak. “But I have no idea how long I’ll be gone. I need to be there to support her until we know more. I don’t even know how much time she has left.”
“She’s a strong woman. She’ll fight.” I try to think of every word to reassure him his mother will be okay.
He leans in and kisses my lips. “I have a flight in six hours. I’m going home to pack some things.”
“Tonight?” I croak.
“I’m sorry, Lottie. Only a few hours ago, everything was perfect. Now…” he shakes his head. “I don’t know what happens next.”
I wrap my arms around him. “I can come with you.” I’m close to begging him to let me be there to help.
He shakes his head. “We need this time as a family. Mum needs some privacy. When the time is right, I’ll call, and if you can spare the time to come out, then we can arrange it.”
Spare the time?
“This place doesn’t need me,” I state. “You do.”
He tilts his head as though I’m missing the point. “You are the governor. I… I…”
“What?”
“Don’t know when I’ll return.” He looks deep into my eyes, tears spilling onto his cheeks. “If I’ll come back.”
“No.” I shake my head at him. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“Then I’ll come to you. But don’t you dare give up on me. Give up on us.”
He leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in the palms of his hands. “It’s so fucked up.”
With my arm around him, I lean my head on his shoulder. “It is. But we will get through this together.”