“Megan, why don’t you introduce me to your friend?” he asks her, looking me up and down before his eyes settle on my chest. My blood begins to boil, and for a split second, I feel bad that her husband’s got a wandering eye. Then I remember that she picked him over Knox. I should probably send her an anonymous thank-you note.

“This… girl is not my friend,” Megan says emphatically, as if that’d be the worst thing in the world. Branson’s eyebrows rise, looking back and forth between his wife and me.

Reaching out my hand, I shake his. “Charlie Davenport. I’m assuming you’re Branson?” I ask. He nods before bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it. Pulling away, I make a mental note to find the nearest hand sanitizer to rinse his germs off my skin.

The door opens again, and I’m relieved when Cohen enters the room. His eyes light up when he sees me, and even though we only spent a short time together, I’m as equally happy to see a friendly face. He rounds the island and pulls me into his arms, giving me a warm hug as he lifts me off my feet.

“Charlie, it’s so nice to see you. Knox didn’t tell me you were coming. He didn’t tie you up and kidnap you did he?” he asks before setting me back down on my feet.

Before I can answer, Knox walks into the room with his mom. “Cohen, why the hell do you have your hands on my girlfriend?”

Everyone in the room pauses, and the air fills with a tense silence as Knox watches us. Pulling away from Cohen, I cross the room to him, placing my arms around his neck. “Cohen was worried that you’d forced me to come with you. Apparently, you’re not as good at spreading the good news as I am,” I tease, poking him in the chest.

“Girlfriend?” I hear Cohen ask from behind me. “Seriously? That’s fucking awesome!”

“Cohen, language!” Amelia scolds behind us, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.

“See? He was just excited that I was here with you. That’s all.” Grinning up at him, I say the next line so everyone in the room can hear. “Don’t worry, Rugged. You’re all the Wellington I’ll ever need.”


AFTER THE scene in the kitchen, Branson and Megan scurried off somewhere before Knox even got a chance to say anything to them. We’ve been here for a couple of hours, and he seems completely relaxed. I’m grateful he and his mom got their talk out of the way so that he could enjoy himself. While some of the partygoers seem surprised to see Knox, most of them are too busy asking questions about his military career to make it awkward. Amelia wasn’t lying when she said she’d kept up on it, as most of the family friends seem to know everything about him. I can tell that he’s enjoying himself, telling war stories to anyone who asks.

When he’s in the middle of talking about a convoy that came under fire in Iraq, I slip away, not wanting to hear about it. Knox and I haven’t talked much about his military career, but it scares me that he does such a dangerous job, even if we’ve never really discussed it.

Heading to the open bar, I order a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, needing something to cool me down in this Tennessee heat. The backyard is huge, and there’s a blues band set up on a makeshift stage. Taking my wine, I find a bench on the edge of the lawn, content to sit and enjoy the music while people-watching. It’s weird seeing Knox in this setting, but he seems just as comfortable as he does anywhere else. I have to remind myself that he grew up living like this.

The band switches gears and launches into The Zombies song “Time of the Season,” and I close my eyes, letting the music flow in my ears.

Moments later, a voice pulls me out of my trance. “Is this seat taken?”

Before I can answer, I feel someone sit down beside me. When I open my eyes, I want to roll them when I see Branson sitting next to me. Ignoring him, I listen to the riff of the electric guitar, wishing he’d go away.

“So, Charlie, you’re here with my brother?” he asks, his hand gripping the edge of the bench, inching closer to me.

“I am,” I tell him, keeping it short and simple. My skin crawls a moment later when I feel his fingers on my shoulder.

“You know, I could give you so much more than he can,” he says. “You’re gorgeous. Just think of the fun we can have. The last girl he had found out how much more of a man I am, and I bet I can convince you, too.”

His words infuriate me, and I want to tell him how wrong he is. There’s no way that he—or any other man—could give me more than Knox has. I don’t want to cause a scene, but I’m desperate to get away from him.

Jumping up, I spill wine on my dress as I begin to move away from him. He gets up and follows me as I make my way inside. Going to the kitchen, I’m desperate to get the sticky liquid off me. I go to grab a paper towel, but Branson’s there before I can clean myself up. He begins wiping my chest, and I don’t care if he’s just trying to be nice. The feel of his fingers on my skin disgusts me, and I can’t imagine what Knox would do if he walked in right now.

Something snaps, and I move quickly, grabbing his hand and pulling his arm behind his back as I move behind him, twisting it so he cries out in pain. I push him against the island, forcing him to bend over when I twist his arm even harder.

“What the fuck! You stupid bitch, get your hands off me,” he growls before I take my other hand and push his face down on the counter.

“Let’s get one thing straight, asshole. I care about your brother, and no amount of flash or money could ever make me even look your way twice. The way I see it, you and Megan did Knox a favor, and while I should say thank you, you’re too much of a jerk to hear those words. Do not ever touch me again. Don’t even fucking look at me, for that matter.” Pushing once more on his face, I let him go, backing away from him.

“You bitch. You’re going to regret that,” he says, shaking out his arm. Staring him down, I cross my arms, just waiting for him to challenge me.

“Branson.” His names comes from the shadows, and it’s not until a stocky man emerges that I realize we weren’t alone. He walks towards us and extends his hand to mine.

“Knox Wellington,” he tells me.

Holy crap. I had no idea Knox was named after his dad. Now that I think about it, I remember he did call himself the third at the gate. I wonder why he’s never told me this before. Shaking his hand, I introduce myself. “Charlie Davenport.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie. I apologize for my son here. Until tonight, I didn’t actually believe he had a thing for his brother’s girls. I’m sorry you were subjected to that.”

I can’t help the confusion that crosses my face. “You didn’t know he stole Megan from Knox?” I ask.

“I had my suspicions, but I’d already lost one son. I tried to ignore them, but he just confirmed it for me,” he says, shaking his head, a look of disappointment washing over him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wellington,” I tell him, and I truly mean it.

Looking over at me, he sighs. “Not as sorry as I am.”

The door opens, and Knox enters with Cohen and Amelia. I notice Megan following behind him. Rolling my eyes, I feel like I’m a character in a Lifetime Sunday night special. They would all walk in right at this moment.

Knox goes rigid when he sees Branson, but he’s absolutely stock-still the moment he sees his father. Swallowing hard, he nods. “Sir.” I hadn’t realized until now that, although we met Amelia, his father hadn’t made an appearance.

“Son. It’s nice to see you,” the senior Knox says, nodding back.

“What’s going on here?” my guy asks gruffly, eyes appraising the room as they fall on Branson, who’s still shaking out his arm. I grin to myself, happy to have caused him a little bit of pain, even though it’s nothing compared to what he did to Knox.

Waving him off, I make light of the situation, knowing that the last thing he needs is more family drama just when things are starting to look up. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll tell him. I don’t want to keep anything from him, but I’ll do it when we’re far, far away. “It’s nothing I couldn’t handle, babe,” I say, smiling sweetly as I move to him, placing my arm around his waist. He looks down at me, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s going to protest. Bringing a finger to his lips, I stop him before he can speak. “Trust me, okay?” I ask, eyes pleading for him to just let this go.

Relief washes over me when he simply nods and pulls me in closer to him. His father crosses the room, standing in front of him. He holds his hand out, and I watch as Knox shakes it.

“I’m glad you could make it, Knox. I assume she’s yours?” he asks, gesturing towards me. In the past, I’d be bristling at the comment, like I’m a possession to be owned, but the truth is, I am his. He completely owns me, and I’m more than okay with that.

“Yeah, Dad. This is my girl, Charlie,” he answers.

His dad looks at me, and squeezes my shoulder. “I know. We just met. That’s quite a woman you have, son. And I know it’s probably out of bounds for me to say this, but hold on to this one.”

Knox simply nods. “I plan on it, sir.”

His dad places his hand on his arm. “I’ve got some schmoozing to do, but I’d love a chance to talk to you at a different time, when things are less hectic. Will you come back if we set something up?”

Knox looks down at me, and I smile, nodding slightly. It’s the push he needs, and I watch in silence as Knox jots down his number and email address for him.

“It really is good to see you. I mean it, son,” his father says, and I’m shocked when Knox pulls away from me and moves into an awkward side hug with his dad.

“It’s good to be home, Dad,” Knox says, and it sounds like he means it. They pat each other’s backs and say goodbye before Mr. Wellington leaves the room.