Frowning, unsure what she means, I turn to follow her gaze. All four Brant brothers are there, but only one is looking at me. Standing out from the others in his suit, he looks out of place. He also looks absolutely divine, my thighs trembling beneath the counter.
My heart hammers against my ribs. He crosses the floor in a few long strides, caging me in as he plants his hands on thecounter."Hello,"he whispers, his face inches from mine, and then he kisses me before I have a chance to answer.
“I will have what he is having,” Ethan teases, falling into their favorite booth in the corner. Evie laughs too, but it seems...too high, a little shaken. I am not sure how I pick it up with Morgan kissing me stupid, but I do.
“Fuck you will,” Morgan growls, tearing his mouth from mine to shoot a warning glare at his brother. I laugh, pulling him back to kiss him again. “It’smine,” he murmurs against my mouth softly. “All fucking mine.”
“Hi, honey,” I whisper once he lets us breathe a moment.
“Hello, sweetheart,” his eyes flash in the sunshine as they meet mine. Jesus, he’s beautiful. His green eyes glow so bright they shine down at me.
“My beautiful girl,” he hums, brushing his hand over my cheek. “Let me take you out tonight. Get you to myself, or these fools might try to steal you from me.”
“They can try all they want,” I hum back, lassoing my arms over his broad shoulders. “Wouldn’t do them any good.”
“That is just what I want to hear, honey. Pick you up at five?”
“Yes, Mr. Brant. I will be waiting,” I promise, brushing my lips over his again. Neither of us care that his brothers sit watching us, Evie too, or that we’re making a scene at the diner.
“I won’t keep you waiting long,” he whispers, meaning a hell of a lot more than our date, I am certain. “Tonight, honey. You headed back now?”
“Yes, I am running late. Think they will buy that some big brute got in my way?”
“Not if they know you’re mine,” he responds so fast we both laugh. “No one would get in the way of what is mine,” he insists with another kiss.
“Gross, let her go back to work, bro,” Ethan calls, pounding on the table as they wait for him to join them.
“Go, say hi to the boys for me. Tell them I am not missing the next game,” I add as I push to my feet, gingerly pushing him away.
“You won’t miss any games if I have my way, honey. Go on, let me let you go. I do love watching it,” he calls as I turn to go, glancing back to catch his eyes focused on the sway of my backside. Not going to lie, I put a little extra sway in there just for him. He laughs and swats at me playfully, telling me to knock it off.
Glancing back once as he falls in next to his brothers, his gaze still following me, I toss a wave. It is almost as if I float across the street to the bank. I have never had something so good in my life before. Not just what I am building with Morgan. With his brothers too, with Evie, with my cute little cottage. Everything is going so well for me. I am trying not to be afraid of what it could mean.
Because...no one gets everything they want all at once, right? I mean...right?
Sadly, I am reminded all too swiftly once I am back at my desk that no, one does not get what they want with such ease. Sitting on my desk is the Brant Brother’s loan folder, with a note from Mr. Tomford that he sat down with the bank board—despite your important role here, I still have final decision. Let them know the loan will not be going forward at this time.
“Son of a bitch,” I rant, slamming the folder shut as I crumple his note in my hand. I toss it with fervor into my waste basket.
“Thought whatever he was here for might upset you,” Liah calls as she steps in with fresh coffee and pastries. Another gift from Morgan.
“What is so damn important about that Manor? Nothing else gets funded while they dump all our resources in that joint? What the hell!”
“Well...the Wilford’s have been an institution in True Ridge. Not that some institutions should not die out,” she says with a laugh before she coughs, squaring her shoulders. “Mr. Tomford has a clear schedule if you need to...discuss this.”
Beaming a smile at her, I nod. I take a moment to down the sweet caramel macchiato that my big guy sent me, then I prepare myself. I spend just a few moments going over the numbers. Which to me, make even more sense than they did the first time I went over them. It has nothing to do with my relationship with Morgan—but it does have to do with what I know about the Brant Brothers now.
They’re hard workers, all four working full-time jobs alongside the many ongoing side projects they take on. They’re skilled at what they do, just hearing them talk about it is akin to hearing an artist discussing their craft. Together, I believe there is nothing they can’t do together. That alone has made great partnerships in my experiences, so with the numbers being this good, with their work coming so frequently to support those numbers, a loan just makes good business sense in my opinion.
Grabbing their folder, I head out of my office. Turning back, I grab the bag of pastries and the tray of coffee. Nothing wrong with bringing a little carrot for Mr. Tomford to see things my way. Outside his office, I square my shoulders, shake out my limbs, and prepare myself as if I am going to battle.
Because without question—I would go to battle for Morgan Brant.
“Mr. Tomford,” I call as I knock, opening the door a crack. “Do you have a moment to talk this over?”
I lead with the pastries. His face softens at the sight, earning a smirk from me; men are so easy to read. A I step insideand brandish the folder, his smile vanishes.Oh well,I think,maybe the sugar will cushion the blow.I set a croissant and coffee in front of him, but as I reach for the Brant file, a raised hand silences me before I can speak.
“I was very clear about this. This has nothing to do with the Brant brothers; I wish them well. It has nothing to do with your coffee shop girl. It has to do with the Wilford Foundation. They’re our current priority. Our board agrees, city council agrees. We cannot fund anything this fiscal year.”
