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Bran nodded, but looked like he had more to say. Royce had said all he needed to say.
“Are we good?”
“Sure.” Bran nodded. Royce didn’t believe it was that simple, but he’d take the reprieve.
“Talk to her.” Royce shoved aside his barely touched beer and stood from his seat at the counter. “As her friend, you owe it to her to hear her out. And if you’re lucky, she’ll let you explain your motives as well. Mistakes happen, Bran. Let’s not allow them to cost us what’s really important.”
“Landing CEO?”
“May the best man win.”
“Aw, shucks.” Bran flattened his hand over his chest. “Do you mean it?”
Royce had to smile at his brother’s cockiness.
“It’s your birthright ahead of me, you know. That’s not lost on me. Dad handing over CEO is like...the throne. You’d be crazy not to fight me for it.”
“There’s nothing to fight about. It’s Dad’s decision and I’ll accept whomever he chooses. You’re in the running. Throne or no.” Royce bowed formally and added, “Your Majesty.”
“You’re an asshole. I bet Taylor regretted that kiss down to her size 9 Manolos.” Bran grinned full out and Royce returned it, glad to be on the same page with him again.
“Without a doubt.”
Royce had protected his family to the best of his ability and this was another situation where he’d do what was right. CEO was meant for him, but if Dad chose Bran, Royce would analyze spreadsheets and maintain the important role of CFO at ThomKnox for the rest of his days. Though being CEO would satisfy his own curiosity about what it would be like to step into his father’s role at the company, he didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.
As he walked out to his car, Royce looked through the window at his brother. Bran was leaning against the wall, his posture more relaxed than earlier, typing into his cell phone.
Hopefully that was Taylor he was texting. And hopefully she’d back up Royce’s story about her regretting the kiss. Though he should probably prompt her in case she’d crafted a fictional tale of her own.
In the driver’s seat, he fired off a few texts to her before starting the engine and leaving for home.
That ought to take care of everything.
Taylor stepped out of the shower, her hair wrapped in blue terry cloth, another blue towel wrapped at her waist. She’d stood in the steam for a long time to clear her mind. Tonight, rather than work her fool head off, maybe she’d relax. It’d be nice to shut off her work brain, watch TV or read a murder mystery instead of ruminate on Royce and Bran drama.
She used to be an avid dater, but when her father was diagnosed with cancer she put her social life on hold. Charles Thompson was enough man to occupy her time. Taylor didn’t want to bring around a date who would meet her father when he wasn’t feeling well—a date that might eventually attend a funeral as an awkward plus-one.
Bran had been a safe choice for reentry into the dating world. He’d gone to the funeral. He knew her father. There weren’t any tough questions to answer or land mines to sidestep where her family was concerned. He understood her grief and sadness and during one date, when she’d told story after story about her dad, he’d smiled and listened.
Brannon was a good friend. And she hoped he would be again. She didn’t like the unfinished business between them.
She took her time blow drying her hair and applying lotion to her arms and legs. She dressed in leggings and an off-the-shoulder long-sleeved T-shirt to thwart California’s cool February evening. In front of the TV, she plopped down onto her reclining love seat. She grabbed her phone to turn it on silent before she chose a show to watch and noticed several text messages. One from Brannon. A few from Royce.
She swiped the screen and clicked on Brannon’s name first. The text read:
We should talk about Saturday.
It was about time he came to the conclusion they’d have to speak eventually. She opened Royce’s texts next.
I explained to Bran that you regretted kissing me and apologized immediately after.
You were panicked and confused. He’ll understand.
As Taylor read the texts from Royce, her blood pressure slowly rose.
“I was confused? I regretted it?” she said through her teeth. Of all the... She stabbed the call button and lifted her cell phone to her ear. The second she heard Royce’s smooth, neutral hello she let him have it.
“You told Brannon I kissed you and regretted it? You told him I apologized? To you? You told him I was confused!”
