“You... you... asshole,” she sputtered. “I can certainly learn how to do... something in... there.”
“The kitchen?”
“That’s what I said.”
Realizing he needed to tone down his smile, he asked, “But baby, do you dream of cooking? If it isn’t a passion, I can assure you I don’t give a flying fuck if you never cook. I can’t cook. Do you still love me?”
“I do. I... God, you’re right. I despise cooking. Hate. It.” Raven fist-pumped the air enthusiastically. “I’m being ridiculous. Start taking applications today!”
Bran took Raven’s hand in his own once the laughter died down. “When will you be ready to move in with me? Full time. Not just weekends.”
Raven let the silence fall between them. Bran’s heart went from a normal thump to pounding.
“How about next week?”
Bran smiled at Raven’s impish grin. “Now, who’s the shithead? I’ll expect you to hold to that.”
“Byrnes keep their word... but... that housekeeper/cook position isn’t going to fill itself. Perhaps while I put on my teeny, tiny, red bikini, you start penning that Help Wanted Ad.”
As Raven pushed up from the table to leave, Bran slapped her ass and laughed at her squeal. “Consider it done.” Grinning over her shoulder, she winked before disappearing inside.
Bran smiled as Raven walked away. God, he was a lucky man.
Thanks to River and Patrick,the afternoon had been full of sun, laughter, drinks, and food tasting. Bran hoped at dinner tonight he’d be able to corner River or Rowan and tell one or both of them that he had a ring. The ring.
He’d planned on putting it in the safe when he got home last night, but Raven had derailed those plans... in the best of ways. This morning while Raven was changing, though, and only afterhe’d called his father’s longtime office manager about getting a housekeeper/cook asap, he placed the ring in the safe.
Her sisters would be the only two people who would know, without a doubt, what Raven would consider an epic proposal.
Raven was upstairs at his dad’s with her sisters, showering and getting dressed. He and the other men were on the deck having a drink. Dad had hired a chef for dinner, so no one had to lift a finger tonight. Pat was probably put out.
“I saw Jo on her phone before she went to her room earlier. The call seemed intense. Is she still working seven days a week?” Bran only asked because he cared about James’ sister and wanted to make sure everything was good.
Bran understood what a successful business deal felt like. It was a rush. A high that, before Raven, he didn’t believe could be achieved outside a boardroom. He knew now that a business deal didn’t come close to the satisfaction of his relationship with Raven.
“Yes, damn her. We have a client who will not allow us to do our job without checking and rechecking every decision we make five times at least. I told her to stop responding.” Taking a drink of his Absolut, soda, and lime, James shook his head in aggravation. “No one should be expected to work all fucking weekend. Jesus.”
Dad agreed. “She’ll burn out if she isn’t careful. I learned that working seven days a week while trying to raise two boys. It doesn’t work.”
“Jo’s smart. She’ll figure a balance that works for her.”
“I’m sure you’re right, Pat, but I feel like my sister is driven by something dark. I’ve tried to... you know... get her to talk to me about it. She didn’t speak to me for two weeks after I asked her to open up.” James shrugged. His disquiet was unsettling. He loved his sister, and it must hurt him when he felt he couldn’t help her.
“Damn, James. Sisters are a lot different than brothers. We just punch the shit out of each other. At least I punched Pat,” Bran laughed, trying to lighten James’ mood.
“Fuck you, Bran. You don’t punch anything anymore unless it’s your dick punching your zipper whenever Raven walks by.”
Bran felt his ears get hot. Patrick was such a dick— but James, and even his dad, were laughing— and... it was fucking true.
Laughing, Bran took a long drink of Raven’s favorite, Bushmills Black Bush, and flipped his brother off over the crystal rim.
“Every year, boys. Every damn year, I hope for a modicum of maturity from you both, but this is the shit I get.”
“Speak only of Patrick’s immaturity, Dad." Bran dodged a shove from his brother and laughing, changed the subject. "I haven’t had a chance to tell you guys yet, but I met with the jewelry designer in OKC. He nailed my vision. The ring is perfect. I put it in the safe.”
He felt joy and satisfaction at his family’s well wishes, handshakes, and back slaps. Bran was nervous about bringing up the news in front of James, but he needn't have worried. His oldest friend was genuinely happy for him.
“When will you propose, brother?”
