Page 70 of Bronson

Still dressed from the date, I head down the stairs. Grabbing my coat, I put it on over my red V-neck sweater. She’d said she loved it on me. And so, I had worn it.

A lot of good that had done me.

I leave my house and walk to Mary’s.

Minutes later I’m seated in her warm, cinnamon-scented kitchen, a cup of hot tea between my hands.

It was the right decision to come here.

Mary sits across from me. She looks me over. She’s only a few years older than me, but a motherly concern is etched in her features.

She says, “Bronson, what’s the matter? You always come here when something’s bothering you. That, or you need twenty pineapple upside down cakes baked this minute.”

I smile at her gentle tease. “Unfortunately, it’s not cakes this time. I do have a problem, I’m afraid.”

“Paige?” She takes a sip of her tea.

I nod. “We had a fight.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What about?” she asks.

“She refuses to move in with me.”

Mary’s brow knits in confusion. “But you’ve set a date, right?”

“A date for her to move in?” I shake my head. “She won’t leave the home.”

Mary gives me a funny look. Like I’ve grown a horn on my head. “No, Bronson. I mean, a date for the wedding. You two are engaged… aren’t you? I saw the diamond on the ring finger of her left hand. That night at the luau.” Her gaze narrows. Then, her brows raise in disbelief. “Wait… did you not propose when you gave it to her?”

I shrug. “No. I just… I don’t know… made her mine?”

The look Mary gives me makes me feel as if I’ve not only grown a horn, but a tail as well. “What did you say when you gave her the ring?”

“It was the first night she’d come to the Village. We had some wine… she alluded to the fact that she wanted to sleep with me. I told her that I wouldn’t… have her… unless she committed to being mine. I went to the kitchen. Gave her some space to think. I began cooking dinner. Then, I couldn’t take another minute of not knowing her answer. I grabbed the ring—I’d had it at my house for ages. Since the day I met her. I took it to her. She said she’d have me. I slipped the ring on her finger.”

“And since then?” Mary asks softly.

“What do you mean?”

She leans toward me. “Have you… mentioned marriage? Asked her what she wanted for her future? Hinted that a proposal that might be coming soon?”

I shrug again. “No?”

Mary sits back in her chair. She’s shaking her head at me. She gives an exasperated sigh. “Bronson. You are a highly intelligent man. Well suited for singlehandedly leading our empire. But—I’m afraid that in the ways of love, you may need a little help.”

I’m annoyed. I’m the most capable man I know. Why does the game of love have me so… befuddled? Holding the frustration from my voice, I say, “Well, then, help me… please.”

She asks, “Tell me, do you want to marry Paige?”

“I want her to be mine. Forever.”

Her gaze locks on mine. She looks as if dealing with me might make her laugh—or cry. “But do you want her to be your wife?”

A shudder runs through me. Fear wells in my chest. That familiar sick feeling expands in my stomach. I see red.

A moment passes. Her voice is barely above a whisper when she speaks. “You’re thinking of him, aren’t you?”

I give a nod.