In The Arms of a Donovan: A Sexy BBW Billionaire Family Series Romance (The Donovans Book 13) (23 page)

Chapter 18

One Week Later

It was a beautiful spring day in Houston with the high temperature expected to reach eighty-four degrees, with sunshine and mild humidity. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky which should have gone a long way to make Brandon’s mood just a little brighter.

Dane Donovan was not Albert’s son. He should have been elated.

He was not.

He could hear the gentle trickle of water moments before he turned the corner of the paved trail to look upon The Donovan Mausoleum in Brookefair Park Cemetery.   Brandon didn’t bother to look back before walking further because he knew Len wasn’t far behind him. Walking with one hand in his pocket, the other carrying a huge bouquet of flowers, Brandon started up the elevated walkway, admiring the natural looking waterfall with its huge boulders that had been moved over and over again, until it was decided that they were in the perfect spot. The scene was meant to be relaxing, calming maybe. It was, to Brandon, the first sign of nature and its mighty hand in the universe.

Behind the waterfall was the actual mausoleum, a stone structure with high walls and lush green landscaping surrounding it. Between the waterfall at the entryway to the building was a black iron gate with the Donovan crest and its prominent letter “D” in the center. For endless seconds, Brandon simply stood staring at that marking.

The Donovans, he thought, were a family. No matter what they would always be a family, that’s what that crest represented. The strength and longevity of their people and the enduring hope for their future.

A future that Brandon wasn’t so certain of at the moment.

He continued walking after a time moving through the glass doors and across the marble floors of the inside sanctuary. Every few feet down each end of the structure was a small oak table with a huge brass vase atop each one. The Donovan crest was engraved into the side of each vase, the gigantic fresh flower arrangements inside changed on a weekly basis.  Through another set of doors Brandon entered the pavilion and looked around the circular space where the marbled walls were built six crypts high. At the end of the pavilion was the committal shelter and just beyond the glass doors there was the after ceremony meeting area.

Brandon immediately walked to his left where the tombs of the third generation of Donovans were housed. He didn’t have far to go as they were assigned in order of birth. His grandfather Isaiah, was the oldest child of his great-grandfather Rowan, so his children would go first on this side. Albert was Isaiah’s oldest son and Darla had preceded him in death.

He stood by that tomb, the one allotted for Albert and his wife and stared at the gold plaque with his mother’s name inscribed: DARLA MARIE DONOVAN. Below her name was a stack of books representing his mother’s love of reading and the Holy Bible was on top of the stack. He lifted his free hand slowly, letting his fingers move over the etchings. His body began to tremble almost immediately, his heart pounding, eyes watering. Brandon dropped his head and flattened his palm against the plaque as emotion overwhelmed him. He grit his teeth in an attempt to stab at the pain. It didn’t work, grief cut through him like a thousand hot blades and he struggled to breathe without sobbing.

His mother was gone, most likely run off the road by Roslyn Ausby. She was killed because of the man she’d chosen to love and to marry. Yet Brandon couldn’t bring himself to blame his father any longer. Albert and his brothers had no way of knowing how sick and demented Roslyn really was. On the surface she looked and sounded like any other woman. Sure, a man should never toy with a woman’s emotions. Darla had told both Brock and Brandon that on numerous occasions when they’d entered the dating age. A man should be honest and up front about his intentions towards a woman, he should respect said woman and be considerate of her feelings. Had Uncle Henry toyed with Roslyn’s emotions? Brandon didn’t know. His thought now was that it wouldn’t have taken a lot to tip the scales of Roslyn’s sanity considering her mental history. That was a sad fact in and of itself. This woman had been suffering from a mental condition all of her life. When would her suffering end? Would more people have to die before that happened?

He did cry then because he could hear his mother’s voice in his head telling him that everything was going to be alright. That he, his brother and sister were going to be just fine as long as they had each other. Oh how much he loved and missed his mother. There was nothing as powerful, no emotion so potent in him right now than the love he felt for her. Maybe the tremendous weight of the loss of her was comparable.

All the more reason why he’d dreaded the moment when he would lose Amber as well. She’d been right when she told him he’d had his shields up the entire time they were together. He’d needed them because this pain was too awful to repeat. And yet, he had repeated it. Last night as he lay in his bed he’d known that he had fallen in love with Amber no matter how much he’d depended on his shields to keep that from happening. He loved her and he’d lost her.

Now more tears came and his legs trembled as the magnitude of emotion weighed heavily on his shoulders.

“It’s alright son,” Albert said, clapping a hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “It’s alright, you go ahead and grieve.”

Brandon wanted to look up, but he knew he would stare into the familiar dark brown eyes of the man that had raised and loved him. He would see the man who had carried the guilt of being responsible for his wife’s death for far too long. He cried some more for that reason. Brandon sobbed until there was nothing more. No tears and no pity.

When he did lift his head, Albert handed him some tissue. Brandon wiped his face as he stood up straight and attempted to get himself together.

“She loved her children with all her heart,” Albert said looking over to his wife’s plaque.

“We know she loved us,” Brandon replied. “She loved you too and she believed in you. That’s why she never left you. She believed that you had not been unfaithful and that if it had happened, you were in no position to control it since you were drugged.”

Albert nodded. “Yes. I believe you’re right.”

The men stood in silence for the next few moments, until Albert turned to look at his son.

“You should go to Amber, son. Go to her and apologize, fall to your knees and beg for her forgiveness. Whatever you have to do, you should do it to keep her in your life,” he said.

Brandon’s grip increased on the stems of flowers he still held. He looked away, toward the courtyard and the brilliant green grass. Birds chirped above and he could still hear the gentle trickle of the fountain a short distance away.

“I really messed up,” he said. “I don’t know if she’ll even want to see me.”

“She will,” Albert stated without hesitating. “I watched the two of you together, sometimes moving around in the kitchen when you attempted to help her prepare a meal. There was an obvious connection, so seamless that neither of you even realized it. I saw you sitting on the couch with her dog on
your
lap this time. And I’ve been watching you in the weeks since she’s been gone. You miss her and you need her. She makes you whole.”

“How do you know all of this?” Brandon asked as he wondered how his father had seemed to say everything Brandon was thinking.

Albert took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I know because that’s how I felt when I was with your mother. And when she was gone, I had that same bereft and aimless feeling you’re experiencing now. I can’t turn back time and save your mother from that car crash, son. But I can make peace with what happened and vow to live the remainder of my life with more openness and honesty.  I can recommit myself to you, your brother and sister and be there for the three of you the same way she would have been if she were here.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do if she rejects me, dad. I don’t know what I’ll say or how I’ll react,” Brandon stated.

“And you won’t know until you try. Now I want you to leave those beautiful flowers here for your mother and then I want you to make arrangements to get to Chicago and confess your love for that woman. She’ll accept your apology, Brandon, because she loves you too.”

#

“Are you sure this is going to be okay?” Brandon asked Fiona Ausby an hour after he’d arrived in Chicago.

“It’s going to be fine. The last time she woke up to find Aunt Roslyn in her house. Tonight, when she walks through that door and sees what you’ve planned for her, she’s going to be ecstatic.”

“I just want her to forgive me,” Brandon confessed. “I just want her to give us another chance.”

“She will,” Fiona promised. “I’ve seen her just about every day since she returned from Houston and sometimes there’s an undoubted glow when she’s talking or thinking of you. I know everything that has happened, but I really believe that Amber is well equipped to get over all that.”

He disconnected the line and followed the GPS instructions to her house once more. Fiona had done her part. Brandon had enlisted her help because Amber spoke very highly of her. Amber had also said that Fiona liked to be kept busy. This sister had also seemed like the most relaxed one, in comparison to the others. He’d had to say a silent prayer that she too would accept his apology and to agree to move forward as well.

Fiona had done a fantastic job of setting the mood for him. The table in the dining room was covered in a white lace cloth. Four long candles decorated the table along with a centerpiece full of fresh colorful flowers. She’d sent him a text with instructions on where to find the spare house key and other things such as a lighter, glasses and so on.

Brandon found the kitchen and noted the warming bags stacked on the table. They held all of the Italian dishes from Amber’s favorite restaurant inside. He crossed the room and opened a drawer to get the electric lighter. Returning to the dining room he lit the candles and opened the bottle of wine that was chilling in an ice bucket. With the use of his credit card, Fiona had taken care of every detail. Now, all Brandon needed was the woman. The one that was for him. He’d waited, just as his mother had told him, and now Brandon was certain that Amber was ‘the one’.

As if appearing on command he could hear her putting her key in the door.

Brandon’s initial thought was that he would stay in the dining room until she found him. But recalling that Roslyn had also slipped into her house unannounced, he wanted to make his presence known sooner, rather than later.

“Hi Amber,” he said as he entered the living room.

She turned quickly, dropping her purse to the floor.

Brandon quickly went over and picked it up as he came to a stand once more. He put the purse on the coffee table near where they’d been standing and reached out to take her hand.

“Before you say anything, I have a surprise for you,” he told her.

She didn’t resist, but followed him into the dining room.

“This time I’m trying my very best to impress you,” he said. “I want you to see my efforts and to know that I’ll always give you my best. Always.”

“Brandon,” she began.

He cupped her cheeks in his hands and looked directly into her eyes. “I’m so sorry for being such an ass. You were right, I was afraid and anticipating your exit all along. I didn’t believe in you or trust you and that was wrong and detrimental to a relationship.”

She kept her focus on him, her eyes watering.

“I want you to know that I’ll move to Chicago if need be. I’ll help you with anything you may need for the cosmetics line. I’ll confide in you and trust you and cherish you every day in my heart and in my life.”

He leaned in then and kissed her, slowly, languorously. She tasted like berries, sweet and tangy, and welcomed his kiss with a vigor that he quickly matched. Hot, wet, intense, none of these words were right for describing this connection. Her hands went to his shoulders, her fingers grasping the material of his shirt.

When he pulled back Brandon was out of breath. He lowered his forehead to hers and whispered, “I love you, Amber. “

Then—because even though she hadn’t spoken, she hadn’t pushed him away either—Brandon wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. When she hugged him back Brandon almost cried again. Instead, he simply sighed with contentment.

“I love when you hold me in your arms,” she said.

“No,” Brandon replied, burying his face in her hair. “I love being in Amber’s arms.”

She did pull away this time, taking a step backward. “But there’s so much between us now. Your family probably hates my family and my family never really cared for you or yours.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “My family doesn’t have to love you. They only need to respect you. And as for your family, I’ll do whatever you think is best to offer my apologies and any assistance they may need in taking care of your aunt. I just want to be with you, Amber.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know if that’s wise.”

“No,” Brandon said. “It’s probably not wise, but I can’t help but want to take that risk. How about you?”

“I don’t want you to move away from your father,” she told him. “And I think Essie got used to being held by men for a change.”

Ugggh, Brandon shook his head. “I guess if I get you I get the dog too.”

“You get the whole package,” she replied.