9. Butterfly

Iexpected Brand to scoff or react as though I’d made a joke. He did neither. He studied me in a way no one, other than him, ever had. From the first day we met, each time he looked at me, I felt as though he could see inside my soul—every doubt, every vulnerability, every insecurity—the very things I worked so hard to hide from everyone, including my four best friends.

I’d seen my parents use one another’s weaknesses against each other every chance they got. Before the divorce and afterwards. Still, to this day, they exploited whatever they could to get the upper hand. I’d vowed long ago that no one would ever hold such power over me.

Until I met Brand. It wasn’t that I shared. He just took. And now, it was so much worse. There was nothing casual about our intimacy. When our naked bodies came together, it had felt like the window to not just my soul but my heart flew wide open and nothing was left hidden.

If all it was for him was finally getting me into bed, I’d be devastated. It would mean the only man I thought I could maybe have a future with would be out of my life for good.

“If that’s what it will take to prove how much I care for you, then that’s what we’ll do. Or won’t do, as it were.”

“Are you really agreeing to this, or do you think I’ll change my mind?”

“I do have questions. Clarifications.”

Of course he did. I folded my arms. “Well?”

“What constitutes sex, precisely?”

“Come on, Brand. I’m serious about this.” I was ready to end this conversation and leave. I was perfectly capable of getting back to New York on my own.

His forehead furrowed. “No more than I am. I simply want us to define which lines cannot be crossed.”

“No. Sex.”

“May I kiss you?” he asked.

“Probably not a good idea.”

He grimaced. “Definitely a shame. Let me ask it this way. Are we dating, or do things between us have to be entirely platonic?”

I had to think about it. I never expected him to agree at all. “Platonic for now.”

He nodded once. “Okay. No kissing, hand holding, or arms around your shoulders. Cuddling of any kind is definitely out. Hand on the small of your back?”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

He never took his eyes off me. He barely blinked. “I assure you I am entirely serious. As hard as this may be, the outcome will be worth it.”

“What is the outcome, Brand?”

“Simple. You. Me. Together. Forever.” He enunciated each word but put greater emphasis on the last one.

“Is that what you really want?”

“I’d give anything to make a life with you, Butterfly. Or give up anything.”

“How can you be so sure? You hardly know me.”

He leaned forward and rubbed the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb. “You know that isn’t true.”

“No. I guess it isn’t.”

He moved his hand so he was no longer touching me. “I won’t lie and say this will be easy. It definitely will not. I simply want to touch you every chance I get, which will now be fewer. I may have a few missteps, but I will do my best to stay within the boundaries of friendship.”

“Friends hug.”

“Thank God.” Brand pulled me into an embrace I couldn’t say was like any I’d shared with other friends. Showing remarkable constraint after the kind of all-consuming sex we’d experienced in the last several hours was commendable.

The biggest question I faced now was if I’d be able to show the same resolve.

“How does breakfast sound?” he asked, letting go.

“Do we have time? I mean, do we have a flight arranged? I guess I should’ve asked that yesterday.” I shook my head. “Actually, I’m sorry, Brand. I shouldn’t have expected you to take care of it.” Not asking or even thinking about the trip home was so unlike me. I was the one who usually took on the responsibility of making reservations.

“How does it feel?”

My eyes scrunched. “What do you mean?”

“To be able to relax and know someone else will take care of it.”

I was ready to argue, but let it go. “You know what? It feels pretty great.”

“Stick with me, Butterfly, and I’ll take care of you in every way you’ll let me. For now, let’s start with getting some food in you.”

While it wasclose to noon, Brand had made sure the restaurant of the hotel was still serving breakfast. If they hadn’t been, he said we would have gone somewhere else.

“We could have lunch instead,” I offered.

He shook his head. “You love breakfast.”

Now would probably be too soon to break the no-kissing rule, but that’s exactly what I wanted to do. How did he remember that about me? More, how did he even know it?

After we ordered, Brand filled me in on the conversation he’d had with Kade and Merrigan, and that we’d be meeting with a man he referred to as Sundance and a woman with the code name Flick.

“I’m a little unclear whether Flick will be traveling to the States or we’ll be required to meet with her in the UK.” Brand hesitated. “If this is too much time away from the gallery, I understand.”

“Let me talk to the tribe. Autumn in New York is fabulous, as you know. Maybe we can come up with a way for me to schedule time off. Tara is almost always there, painting, anyway. However, now that she’s pregnant, maybe not as much.”

Brand tapped my hand. “Do not talk yourself out of allowing people to help. From what Tara said, no one expected you to run the gallery all on your own. Maybe they’ll want to be there more than you think.”

“Maybe. So, um, why are we meeting with Sundance and Flick?”

“To establish a training schedule.”

I raised a brow. “What kind of training?”

“The typical James Bond stuff. Hand-to-hand combat, surveillance, and countersurveillance. Definitely wire-tapping and intelligence gathering, and maybe parachuting, demolition, and assassination.”

My head shot up. “Wait. What?”

Brand smiled. “You seemed lost in thought. I wanted to see if you were listening.”

“So, will we learn any of that?”

He shrugged. “No idea. We’ll have to wait until our meeting to find out.”

I smacked his arm. “When do you think that will be?”

“Sooner than expected,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Doc said Sundance wants to make arrangements this week.”

“So soon? Where?”

“He lives in Manhattan.”

“On the subject of where people reside, where are you planning to stay?” I asked.

Brand could afford to live almost anywhere. His and Tara’s father had set up a trust fund for both of his kids when they were born. However, it wasn’t until he came of age that he found out about it, or even who his biological father was. He’d tried to refuse the trust, but it was irrevocable. He could choose not to touch the money in it, in which case its entirety would go to his children. If he died without offspring, it would go to Tara.

“I suppose I could look for something temporary, given I’m not sure what the training will entail or how much time it will require.”

What I was about to suggest was risky, but I’d had roommates before. Not male roommates, but this was Brand. He was almost like a brother. Except for the sex part. I shuddered at the ick factor of that thought.

“You could stay with me.”

His eyes opened wide.

“As I said when you walked me home after dinner the other night, the town house is too big for one person.” As Brand was aware, that was an understatement. It had five floors, each one thousand square feet, and a total of five bedrooms. He and I could live there and rarely see each other. Not that I wanted to avoid him. Quite the contrary, actually.

Since I inherited the place, I’d lived there alone, with the exception of a few months when Tara roomed with me. I had no interest in renting out part of it to someone I didn’t know, and it wasn’t as if I needed the money. Like Brand and Tara, I had trusts from both my parents and my grandparents. I owned the town house free and clear, and a trust had been established to pay the taxes as well as to cover maintenance.

“What about the friendship pact?” he asked.

“Friends live together. I lived with your sister.”

“If we do this and you find you’re at all uncomfortable, say the word and I’ll relocate.”

“I’m sure I won’t.”

“If you’re certain.”

I was. More, I was relieved. While I’d been the one to suggest we have a platonic relationship, not seeing Brand on a regular basis would’ve been the worst part of it. After only a couple of days together, I would miss not being with him. Just like I’d missed him when he left New York to move to Italy and then again while he was in prison. “It’s settled,” I said, and he nodded.