Page 62 of Branson's Promise

“I love how much you both love me.” Branson’s words were quiet, mixed with moans of delight as we massaged our hands over his back and head. “Is that incredibly conceited to say?”

“No, kitten. I love how much I love you too. I hope you always feel this way. Completely and utterly adored.”

This, right here, was everything I needed.

Chapter 31

Branson

Some things are worth fighting for, even if it is easier to walk away. You will know them when you see them.

Acold front greeted us when we returned to New York in the run up to Christmas. I both loved it and hated it in equal measure. On the one hand, getting to and from work sucked - the pounding rain took no pity on my flimsy umbrella - but on the other hand, coming home and throwing on my comfy sweats andcuddling with Milo and Noel under a ton of blankets and pillows was pure bliss.

Shaking the water from my hair, I entered the hotel lobby, catching Marcie’s eye as she stood behind the reception desk. “Good evening, Marcie, what’s new?” Her red hair was tied into a tight bun, her makeup immaculate and the navy blue shirt she was wearing, perfectly pressed. It was her bright smile and sunny disposition though, that drew people in and made her the perfect host for greeting guests.

“Evening, Branson. Nothing new going on here, just the usual. A-list stars with complaints about thread count and Mrs Perkins’ chihuahua got out again.”

I snorted a laugh. Mrs Perkins was an eighty-five-year-old widowed billionaire who pretty much lived here - much like we did - because she liked the company and the service. She was sweet, quick as a whip and had a pretty foul mouth. I loved listening to the stories she regaled us with; she’d lived a thrilling life, and whenever I ran into Mrs Perkins, I always left hoping I’d be able to tell people such exciting tales about my life one day.

“Sounds far more interesting than my day. I spent four hours in a financial forecast meeting. With no snacks! Who has a four hour meeting without a single drop of sugar?” Marcie pushed a jar of sweets towards me and I sunk my hand in, pulling out a load of colourful sweets. “You’re too good to me. On the upside though, I finally handed in my notice. Four weeks from now, I’ll be unemployed and I couldn’t be happier!”

“That’s great! Any idea what you’ll do next?” Marcie asked.

“I do! My plan is coming together slowly, I’ll tell you soon.” I winked at her then asked, “Can you check that Noel booked the suite next to ours for two nights from Monday, under the name Winters, please?”

August and Caleb had a last minute business conference to attend in Boston but then were coming to stay with us for afew days before heading back to the UK to spend Christmas with Caleb’s parents. We had dinner plans on Monday and then tickets to a comedy show that one of Milo’s colleagues had told him about.

Marcie's perfectly manicured nails click clacked on the keyboard. “Yes, he has.”

“Great! So, what are your plans for Christmas?” I asked, leaning my elbows on the check-in desk.

“I’m here on Christmas Eve and then on Christmas Day, we will be with Beckett’s family. I’m baking a ham to take along, which no doubt Beck's mom will find issue with.” Beckett was Marcie’s husband - a singer in a small indie band and the owner of a rather posh bar downtown.

“Well, I’ll eat it if she doesn’t want it,” I said and Marcie chuckled before looking over my shoulder. I turned to see a family of four walking through the glass doors, heading towards the check in.

“That’s my cue to leave, have a lovely evening.” Waving goodbye, I headed towards the private elevator but paused briefly to take in the festive surroundings. With less than three weeks to go before Christmas, The Starlight was completely decked out. Gold stars and lights hung from the tall ceiling and a twelve foot fir tree stood in the centre of the lobby, decorated in ornate gold, red and white baubles. A huge star sat on top of the tree and a sprinkling of lights danced between its branches. I mentally added a Christmas tree to my list of things we needed for our hotel room. Other things on the list included a larger scratching post for Juliet and Lena, a proper tea pot, and a bookshelf.

If we were going to move into our own house though, a few of those could wait. Thoughts of what our place would look like followed me into the elevator and up to our floor. Neither Noel nor Milo had mentioned moving out again, not since that day inLondon and though the words sat heavily on my tongue, begging me to bring it up, I hadn’t yet. Maybe over dinner, I thought as the elevator door dinged open.

I smiled to myself, knowing that both my boyfriends would already be home. Noel had been working from his office in the hotel and Milo was off for a few days. Unfortunately for me, we were going through a busy period at work and I’d had to return the day after getting back from London. The now familiar smell of pine cleaner and hotel laundry soap filled the air as I walked to our door and opened it to be greeted vocally by our small bundles of fluff.

Juliet clawed at my legs, meowing and purring then flopped on her side and rolled over. Lena, much more timid than Juliet, brushed against my legs before sauntering off. From the sorrowful noises coming from Juliet, and her over-dramatic antics, I surmised she had either not been fed yet or she was playing me in the hopes of a second meal.

“Milo? Noel? You two home?” I called out as I removed my soaked coat and kicked off my boots. I had on tight jeans and a tartan fleece shacket which I shrugged off and tossed onto the sofa. Walking further into the suite, the pitter patter of water caught my attention and I pushed open the bathroom door to find Milo standing under the spray of the shower, his head tipped forward as soapy water cascaded down his body. The lines of his muscles, the pure strength in them, and the tattooed planes of his back always took my breath away. He was stunning and I often found myself gawking at him, the same way you would at a beautiful sunset. But no, Milo was more beautiful than a sunset, he was like a navy blue sky twinkling with diamonds. “Hey, love,” I greeted and he turned around, his soft gaze meeting mine through the water streaked shower door.

“Hi babe,” Milo replied, rinsing off the remaining suds and turning off the water. I held a towel out for him as he stepped outof the shower. “Thanks.” He dried his face and body then pulled me towards him, trapping me in a coconut and vanilla shampoo scented embrace. “I’m glad you’re home. How was your day?” He kissed my temple before stepping back and wrapping himself in the towel.

“Boring and, um… boring. There are literally no other words to describe it. Thank fuck it’s over and it’s the weekend. How was your day? And where’s Noel?” Milo moved around the bathroom, picking up his clothing from the floor then headed back into the main room and pulled on a pair of sweats, a thin black vest and a chunky knit cream cardigan. I stripped out of my work clothing, stumbling over my trouser leg, then threw on a similar outfit of sweats and a fairisle jumper.

“My day was good, I worked on some new designs and took Mia out for lunch. And I ran into Mrs Perkins which led to an hour of chitchat, tea and baklava her daughter had dropped off. As for Noel, he is downstairs in the kitchen, pestering Emile to make us an Oreo cheesecake.” I raised an eyebrow and Milo smirked before elaborating. “I may have shown him a video I saw online and mentioned how good it looked. He said something about you loving Oreos and you know how he is, he couldn’t help himself.” Milo lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.

“Well that sounds bloody delicious, but I could do with some real food right now. The soup I had for lunch did not touch the sides.”

“I can feed you something real,” Milo suggested playfully as he pushed me until I was flat on my back on the bed and his big body was blanketing me.

“You’re so fucking cheesy,” I joked but my chuckle morphed into a moan as he dragged his soft lips down my throat. Craning my neck to the side, I offered up even more real estate for him.

A loud meow sounded from the floor next to me, followed by a small tiny catapult of fur launching itself at my face. Milo sat up, his eyes sparkling with fondness for our little visitor. He scooted Juliet up and kissed her head. “Seems you’re not the only kitten that’s hungry.” I laughed at my boyfriend before climbing off the bed and heading to where we kept the cats’ food.

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