CHAPTER TWELVE Brandon
CHAPTER TWELVE
Brandon
“WHO ARE YOU” — FORDO
Present Day
Icould blame the bourbon from the groomsmen suite for what made me brave enough to follow Johanna out of the restaurant, but I’d barely had any.
The truth is, it’s not courage that drives me—it’s habit. It’s been six years, and nothing about the instinct I have to follow her out of a room when she’s upset has changed.
Standing in the doorway, I lean against the frame in an attempt to come off cool and less wrecked than I feel.
Watching her grip onto the railing and take a deep breath, I know—she’s holding herself together by sheer force of will.
The faint breeze tugs at her curls and I catch a whiff of the same scent of perfume that still lives in the corners of my memory.
My God, she’s beautiful. Stunning. Captivating.
She’s also furious, like she always has been.
“Thought you might try to bolt,” I hear myself say, yet again not knowing what possesses me to start pushing the boundaries—but sarcasm is safer than honesty, I know that much.
It takes a minute, but she finally turns to face me. Her blue eyes are blazing with rage, and when she speaks, her voice could cut glass.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
There she is—my little pit viper. My Hurricane.
She breaks her glare and turns her back on me—like it’s her favorite thing to do these days. Something in my chest twists painfully watching it happen.
I want to step closer to her. I want to be as brave as I’d been when I’d come out here, all confident with my snide remarks about her running away.
“What do you want, Brandon?” she snaps before I can come up with another clever thing to say.
She’s always one step ahead of me.
I still don’t know how to answer—because the truth is, I don’t really know why I came out here. The only thing I know is when she walks out, I follow.
“I… just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” I say finally.
She laughs—a sharp, humorless sound that slices clean through me—and I know it was a dumb thing to say.
“I’m fantastic. This is my absolute favorite way to spend an evening. Drinking wine, wrangling wedding chaos, and you showing up everywhere like a recurring nightmare? It’s fucking magical.”
Ouch.
I should walk away.
Give her the space she clearly wants.
The thing is, though—Johanna has always been the kind of storm I walk straight into, even when I know better, and even when all the signs are telling me to run in the opposite direction.
“Whatever Rylee said to you—” I start carefully.
“Oh, don’t.” She whips around to face me again and holds up a hand to stop me—which I guess is better than some of the other ways she could’ve gone about it.
“Don’t defend her, or whatever it is you’re trying to do.
I don’t want to do this—” She gestures vaguely at the space between us as if it’s something toxic she doesn’t want to name.
“Right now. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.”
I swallow hard, because what she doesn’t realize is that she just gave me an opening. She thinks she’s being dismissive, but to me? It’s a window.
Maybe not ever isn’t the same thing as never.
“I’m not out here for my sister,” I say slowly. I have to go about this the right way and avoid setting off a landmine. “I’m out here for you.”
She scoffs again and her icy blue eyes flash with something I can’t quite describe. Anger? Hurt? Disbelief?
“For me?” she asks, but there’s venom dripping from her words.
“Tell me—what exactly do you mean by that? Because we could’ve hashed this out months ago when you decided you had to come with me to Cumberland to visit my dying mother.
We could’ve talked about it a few weeks ago when you dropped a bomb in my lap at Grayson and Mia’s and never spoke to me about it again.
You’ve been acting like I don’t exist at the house, and now suddenly I do?
You really suck at picking your moments, Brandon. ”
She doesn’t turn away this time. She holds my gaze, daring me to challenge her.
So I do.
I still don’t know what makes me so brave—maybe stupidity, maybe six years of knowing there will never be another woman who could ever measure up to her—but I take a step closer.
To my surprise, she doesn’t move away.
She doesn’t even flinch.
Instead, she allows me to begin to close the distance between us with her chin tilted up slightly like she’s bracing for impact.
“You really want to know what I meant?” I say, my voice low and steady.
She folds her arms tightly around herself. “I asked, didn’t I?”
I’m tired of her acting like everything that’s happened between us is over and done with when it’s clearly not.
She wants to know what I think?
Fine.
“You said we could’ve talked months ago—in Cumberland,” I say, my jaw tight.
“I was trying to give you space to grieve your mom. You weren’t exactly thrilled that I tagged along, but you weren’t in any state to go by yourself.
Your mom was dying, and you were drowning, Johanna.
There was no way we would’ve talked about it then. ”
Her lips part, but nothing comes out. I continue, not realizing how much the frustration and hurt has stayed with me all this time until the words start tumbling out of me.
“Then you said we could’ve talked a few weeks ago at Grayson and Mia’s.
Now, I’ll own my part of saying something you weren’t ready to hear.
I’m sorry for the timing of that. I did give you an opening to talk about it, though.
You were the one who didn’t take me up on it, but I knew you wouldn’t.
The look in your eyes when I said it told me that much. ”
Her chest rises sharply.
Good.
Now I know I’ve really hit a nerve.
“What are you talking about? What opening?” she asks, her eyes wide. “For years, we’ve avoided each other. You asked me who was going to save me, then walked out like you’d just asked me if I wanted fucking chicken wings for dinner!”
I drag a hand down my face, leaving it covering my mouth as I exhale slowly.
Christ.
“Johanna,” I say roughly through my hand before dropping it at my side. “That’s not what I was talking about.”
“No?” she fires back, her voice cracking. “Then explain it to me, because clearly I’m missing something here. I blew up our relationship six years ago, and you haven’t wanted anything to do with me since.” She takes in a shaky breath. “What’s different now?”
Every muscle in my body tightens.
God, she really doesn’t see it. She really doesn’t know.
She’s right, though. I’ve been unclear, because—in truth—I haven’t known what to expect.
Now that I know she’s just as wound up about this as I’ve been?
I’m going to lay it all out on the table.
I take another step closer to her, forcing her to tilt her chin up further to keep her eyes on mine. We’re not touching—it would be too much—but I’m close enough to feel the heat radiating off of her.
“You think you blew us up, Hurricane?” I murmur. “Maybe you did.”
She swallows so loudly I can hear it. “Don’t call me that.”
Her voice is small. Tight. Vulnerable. Very un-Johanna.
“You weren’t ready for us then,” I continue softly, because I know she hears me now. “You were twenty years old. I should’ve known better. I should’ve never pushed you into something you weren’t ready for.”
She flinches at the honesty.
“It wasn’t your fault, Brandon,” she whispers, a rare moment of softness crossing her face. “I’m the one who walked away. I never expected you to chase after me—fight for me—after that.”
Fuck.
She wanted me to fight for her?
Of course she did, idiot.
So I tell her what I’ve been telling myself since the day I met her.
“I would’ve ruined you. Fuck, Johanna, I did ruin you.
Look at this. Look at us. We’re standing out here at your brother’s—my best friend’s—rehearsal dinner, screaming at each other.
” I shake my head and drop my gaze away from her eyes.
“I didn’t walk out of that room a few weeks ago because I didn’t care.
Maybe it’s because Grayson and Mia found their way back to each other, but seeing you that night at their house… shifted something in me.”
I look back up at her just in time to see her eyes widen. I don’t think I’ve ever been this honest with anyone, but I keep going—too late to turn back now.
“So, you want to know what changed? Why I’m out here? Why I can’t avoid you anymore?”
The question hangs in the air between us—heavy, electric, and dangerous.
She’s breathing faster now, and I think I’ve finally rendered her speechless.
“Be a good girl,” I say, taking the final step towards her and closing the last of the distance between us. “And listen close.”
I lean in, my mouth hovering just next to her ear. She exhales sharply and shivers as she feels the heat of my breath against her.
“I’m done pretending there’s nothing between us,” I whisper. “Done pretending I don’t want you, that I don’t feel… whatever the hell this is. Let me be clear, Johanna. I’m opening the door for us to figure this out. The ball is officially in your court.”
Suddenly, just as I’m about to pull away to look into those gorgeous blue eyes to see her response, the door leading back into the restaurant swings open. We instinctively jump away from each other as if we’re two high schoolers who just got caught making out behind the bleachers.
It’s just one of the waiters, but he’s blushing wildly like he’s just walked in on something truly scandalous.
“Uh, Miss Harris?” he says, clearing his throat. “Mr. Jackson? You’re needed inside.”
He goes back inside just as quickly as he came out here, almost tripping over himself, without seeing if we’re following him.
I take the opportunity to take one last glance back at Johanna before we’re thrown back into the thick of Grayson and Mia’s wedding weekend bliss.
She looks as stunned as the poor waiter did, and still, she’s speechless.
I don’t want to walk away from her—don’t want to take my eyes off her—but I know I have to.
“To be continued,” I assure her.
Before I finally turn to go back inside, I swear there’s something in them that hasn’t been there before. Something that tells me she might actually be ready, even if she doesn’t know it herself yet.