Page 27 of Branded

“They’re stunning, Sebastian, thank you,” I manage to say. He slides a gold band onto his left hand. Now it is real and people can see what we are.

Married.

9

SEBASTIAN

As if it is rising from the landscape, the home I grew up in stands stately in the middle of manicured lawns, immaculate flower beds and stone statues flanking the staircase. Three stories of limestone, massive windows and fieldstone columns stand before us like it is guarding the ranch.

We drive up a circular driveway that can accommodate twenty vehicles. It is impressive, intimidating and utterly soulless. It is everything I didn’t want my resorts to be.

I feel Lennox shift beside me, taking it in as Dad drives us closer, the SUV crunching over perfectly maintained gravel. Her eyes track over the architecture, the perfect landscaping, the complete absence of anything that suggests this is a working ranch. No barns visible from here. No cattle. No dust or noise or life beyond the pristine facade.

“Where’s the ranch?” she asks quietly.

“Back behind the ridge,” Dad says, gesturing vaguely. “Eleanor insisted on keeping the house separate from the work areas when we rebuilt twenty years ago. Said she was tired of smelling cow shit during dinner parties.”

Lennox’s jaw tightens, but she doesn’t say anything else.

I understand what she isn’t saying. I did my research after making her my wife, and the ranch she grew up on had the main house positioned to overlook everything: the barns, the pastures, the corrals. Warren Briggs can stand on his porch and see every aspect of his operation. That’s ranching to her, not the sanitized version that my family likes to portray.

Dad parks near the front entrance, and immediately the double doors swing open and my mother appears, along with the familiar tightness that forms in my chest whenever I’m in her presence. Some say it’s anxiety; my father is sure it’s just her reminding us that she was once a mafia princess and is the one who truly controls this family.

She is sixty-three but could pass for fifty. Blonde hair perfectly styled, makeup flawless in spite of the Texas heat. She is wearing cream-colored linen pants, a silk blouse and pearls at her throat. The wedding ring that adorns her hand could fund a small country as it catches the sun and glistens.

“Sebastian!” She descends the steps with practiced grace, arms already reaching for me. “My boy. You’re home.”

I climb out of the SUV and accept her embrace, feeling her evaluate me as she hugs me. Checking that I am presentable, appropriate—living up to the Drake name.

“Hi, Mom.”

She pulls back, gripping my shoulders, her blue eyes scanning my face. “You look good. California agrees with you.” Then her attention shifts past me to where Lennox is emerging from the vehicle. “And this must be your wife.”

Her voice remains warm, but I catch the sharpness underneath. The calculation. My mother doesn’t trust surprises, and a son showing up married without warning is definitely a surprise.

“Lennox,” I say, moving to put my arm around her waist. Claiming her publicly for my mother’s benefit. “This is my mother, Eleanor Drake. Mom, this is Lennox Briggs, Lennox Drake now.”

Ever graceful and poised, Lennox takes a step ahead of me, a warm smile on her face, and she holds out her hand toward my mother. “Mrs. Drake. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“Eleanor, please.” My mother moves closer, reaching for her hand, and I watch her do exactly what Dad did, assess Lennox from head to toe. Taking in the expensive clothes I provided, the way Lennox carries herself, the ease at which she interacts with strangers. “My goodness, you’re even more beautiful than Sebastian described on the phone.”

“Thank you.” Lennox’s voice is steady; she’s in full control.

“And this whirlwind romance.” Mom winks slightly, her smile staying perfectly, but her eyes are calculating. “Sebastian mentioned you met at the resort? How long ago was that?”

Even though my family all know, this is going to be the story we tell everyone, so she might as well practice now.

“I’ve been at the resort a little over six months,” Lennox says as she moves back to my side. She places her hand on my chest and smiles up at me. As if my arm has a mind of its own, I wrap it around her waist and pull her close.

“She was working in guest relations. I noticed her immediately.” I glance down at Lennox, and she smiles up at me, the picture of a new bride smitten with her husband. She is better than I gave her credit for.

“Six months.” Mom’s tone is carefully neutral. “And you’ve been courting all this time?”

“We’ve been getting to know each other, yes.” Lennox looks to my parents and picks up the conversation perfectly. “It was slow at first, strictly professional. I thought he was an arrogant ass. But then…” She looks back up at me. “Things changed.”

“They certainly did.” I lean down and kiss her temple, feeling her flinch slightly under the public display. “I knew immediately that she was the one. It just took a while to convince her to take a chance on me.”

“Well, son, you can be a little arrogant at times, Lennox isn’t wrong.” Mom’s expression doesn’t change, but I can see the wheels turning. “I’m just glad she’s able to see through that prickly exterior. Come inside, you must be exhausted from the flight. I’ve had a room prepared.”