Page 120 of Branded
A breath.
I opened the door.
And Smitty went still behind me.
Brandon…looked like hell. His face was covered in stubble, he had a backpack hanging off one shoulder, a bag of presents on the other. But the stark expression on his face was worse. This was a man who was hurting.
Smitty knew it.
“I’m sorry,” Brandon said, the words a rasp. “I know that doesn’t change it. I had…not reasons,” he said. “But I wasn’t in my right mind, and I’m so fucking ashamed that I said those things, that I tried to sabotage your happiness just because I was a miserable bastard.” His chest rose and fell. “I’ll go if you want. I know I shouldn’t have come, but Kailey asked and—and don’t be mad at her, okay? She’s just trying to help.” Another breath. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but this last month has been hell, and?—”
Smitty moved.
One second, he was behind me.
The next he was gently nudging me to the side, moving forward and…
Embracing his brother.
The backpack hit the ground.
The presents followed suit.
I heard something crack inside Brandon’s bag, and knew that no one was going to give a fuck. Not when Celeste and Ryan overheard the commotion and came into the hall, not when they joined the hug. Not when they moved into the living room and Brandon began sharing all the things that he hadn’t shared before that dinner.
I gathered up the bags, dumped the bottle of whiskey that had shattered (luckily, in the gift bag), and then had moved into the kitchen, checking on the gravy, finishing up dinner.
Serving it up onto plates because no one wanted to leave the living room.
Brandon was still talking, still apologizing and explaining and owning up.
So, I quietly delivered plates.
But when I went to slip out again, to give them privacy, Smitty caught me around the waist with his arm, tugging me onto his lap.
“I love you,” he whispered.
The small part of me that had been worried about him being mad at me relaxed. “I love you,” I murmured back.
Brandon glanced up from his nearly permanent study of his hands.
The emotions in his eyes almost burned me.
But then he said, “I’m so fucking glad you have that, bro. That’s what I should have said that night. That’s what I’ll say from every day here on out. That’s—” His voice broke, and he glanced down at his hands again.
After a minute, Smitty’s chest moved behind me. “Thanks, Brand.” Then again, his deep breath rocking me forward and back gently. “Now, are we continuing with the Smith tradition of watching Home Alone or should we change it up and watch Elf?”
Celeste grinned and saluted me with her wine glass. “You know what?” The glass rose a little higher. “I think this is the year for new traditions.”
Later that night, just as Christmas Eve was turning into Christmas morning, as me and Smitty lay together in his bed, long after we’d gotten his parents and Brandon settled in the guest rooms, after Elf and Home Alone had been consumed, Smitty rolled to his nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out a box.
“I think this is the year for new traditions, too, little bird.”
He opened the lid, revealing a diamond ring inside.
“I love you, Kailey Henderson,” he said, gathering me close after he plucked the ring from the box and rested it on the tip of my finger. “I want to help you fly and watch you soar. I want to make babies with you and watch Elf every year on Christmas. I want to do all the little things that bring a smile to your face, knowing that you always do the same in return. I want us to find our happiness, forever, without the weights of our pasts. I want?—”
I cupped his cheek. “I want to marry you, Smitty.”
