Tamina

Clearing my throat, my cheeks warm under the sudden question, but the heat travels to my heart at the notion mum's all for Brandon. "Um, I'm fine with it, why?"

"Because I'm about to ask him, hey Brandon!" she cheers, causing everyone who walks by to stare at us, and my head to tuck into my shoulders.

My body locks into place at the sudden heat that replaces the sun, and his voice soon sounds close to my ear. "Ask me what?" His posture straightens against my back as he adds, "Hello, Mrs Rovers."

My eyes narrow on her, and she gives me the what? I'm being good look before turning back to him. "Hello, Brandon, how are you this fine day?"

"All's well, thank you, Mrs Rovers. How are you and Mr Rovers?"

She waves her hand dismissively. "Please, call us Gerald and Tricia. And we're fine, thank you; Gerald's visiting his friend for the day, so I've got time to let my hair down. . ." Her eyes fleet between us. "Speaking of, Brandon, would you care to join us for dinner?"

Swivelling in my seat to meet him, his lips pull into a small smile. "That sounds wonderful, I'll make sure to clear my schedule; when were you thinking?"

I'm growing all warm and fuzzy at the interaction. Like a gentleman, he's being polite and calm with my mother, making sure to take everything she says into consideration as she lays out the plans. It's clear he's taking mental notes by the way his head slowly nods and his eyes squint in concentration. Mum, on the other hand, is chattering away as she asks about allergies, favourite foods, hates, and that he can wear whatever he likes. Shortly after, I'm rising to my feet at the sight of mum doing so, signalling the union has come to an end, and it's Brandon's time to whisk me away for whatever importance it is.

Question one will be what, and the second will be why, and then hopefully it ends with us in a warm embrace on my sofa like last night.

"The weekend? But I'm not sure which day." Mum rolls her eyes for a quick beat. "I've got to wait for my boss to get off his rump and put me to work," she explains with a light chuckle. "Anyway, I'll let you two love birds head off, I'm going to make the most of the house to myself!"

Chuckling at her antics, we share a quick hug before she bids us another good time and how she's looking forward to seeing us on the weekend. After we separate ways, Brandon takes his usual spot at my side and makes sure to guide me by the small of my back before his fingers intertwine with mine.

"Hey," I whisper.

"Hello," he replies, gently, and my heart skips a beat in my ribcage. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to stay as long as I'd originally thought, my love; duties call at work."

Nodding back the disappointment, the next words to leave my lips are, "That's fine, what did you need to talk about?" Remembering the topic mum and I had been chatting about, guilt niggles away at me as I say, "I've actually got to talk to you about something as well."

His brow cocks. "Tell me what you need, first."

Brandon's tone is firm and open to discussion, just not negotiating. Now that I've said it, he's not going to want to move on to his topic unless I've stated my predicament.

Itching the inside of my wrist, my eyes fleet to him for a quick second whilst my free hand comes up to shield the sun's gleam before the words rush out. "Brandon, do you have any jobs going at your agency?"

He doesn't say anything straight away, and that's fine. When it turns into a minute, that's when it wasn't I didn't expect him to keep silent—a no, sure, but now I'm swarmed with doubt and my brain can't think of anything to make up for the lack of conversation.

"Why do you ask?"

Letting out a rough sigh, my shoulders hitch. "Jasmine is making work difficult, and Charlie's given me time off—thankfully paid and in my best nature along with the store's—and it's just made up my mind. I honestly think I'm ready for something new."

Brandon eyes me with caution before his fingers squeeze mine in a comforting way that's about to tell me I'm not going to hear the news I'm hoping for. "I'm afraid to say we're not hiring at the moment." His eyes soften and his throat clears. "I'm sorry if this is unwanted or bold, but I think you're perfect where you are. You'll have room to grow into a new role, and I'll be able to be there for you, whenever you need me. And you can be there for me."

There's humour in his voice toward the end, and the slow curl of his lip and the quick wink of his eye has me squealing on the inside like a lovesick school girl. And just like a typical school girl who's unsure of what she wants and is hopelessly head over heels and needing guidance, my head bobs in response.

"Alright, what did you want to ask?" I push, embarrassed and needing a change of conversation.

Runing a hand through his hair, it's his turn to sigh. "Have you got a dress, if so, can I see it?"

"Yes, and why?" I shoot back, curious.

A slight breeze kicks up but it does nothing to die down the heat of the sun, and I'm sure Brandon doesn't want to have this conversation as much as I'd hated asking for a job from him.

Not that I expect him to just hand me one.

After a moment of silence, he finally gives into the war and tells me. "My family are doing a fundraiser for charities and book stores, and it requires for us to dress up in suits and dresses. It will be after work hours, and it will be in three days' time."

No words leave my mouth as my brain buffers to process his words. Event, dress up, and he wants me to go with him. That childish squeal wants to come out this time, but I'm strong enough to overcome the urge and nod up at him as my fingers fish out my mobile. Skimming through the photos in my gallery, it takes a while, but there's a picture of me holding up a dress I never had a chance to wear.

"It looks lovely," he comments.

"But?" I prompt, sensing the word a mile without his sympathetic eyes telling me so.

"But we need to make you more elegant—fancy. There's going to be a whole room full of people, and my family are going to be there. If it were down to me, we wouldn't go full stop, and I'd find us other activities to try out. However, my mother demands we attend, and it would look bad on our company if I don't."

Fretting my lower lip and returning my phone to my pocket, the situation at hand dawns on me that there's no way out of it. If I don't go, he's going to find a way out of it, and it's going to be a huge mess. That, and I need his parents to see I'm worthy of Brandon.

"Where is it? Should I take the bus?"

A humorous chuckle comes from him as he shakes his head. "Out of town, sweetheart. The space is being rented for the day to be set up for the night, and I'm going to pick you up, of course. What man doesn't pick up their women in need?"

I wouldn't know.

"You tell me," I tease.

He smirks. "The bad kind." The playful smile soon dies down when we approach his car, leaving us to lean against its flank. "I'll send you an outfit, and if there's any problems with it, just let me know, if not, then we can go over the event's details, if that's alright with you?"

My head bobs along, allowing him to take the lead. "That sounds great, but please, I can buy the things I'm going to need if you could tell me what style is needed?"

Pulling me closer by my hand, he places a lingering kiss to my forehead. "No, love, I'll take care of it. If it makes you feel any better, I'll try to find something not entirely expensive?" he offers, and knowing I've lost the battle no matter what, my head tilts forward in acceptance.

"Only if you're sure, but Brandon, we seriously need to have a conversation about you buying everything," I state softly.

He laughs in response. "My love, I'll accept, but next time because I've got to make a move. Until then, this isn't up for discussion." Brandon stares deeply into my eyes. "You don't want to be a bad girl, do you?"

My cheeks flush, remembering the last time we had this conversation.

"That's what I thought, sweetheart. Now, would you like me to give you a lift anywhere before I go?"

Debating the question for a solid minute, I politely decline and let him know I've got some things to do. Instead of pressing the matter, he takes my answer and then me in his arms as he swoops down and places a lingering kiss to my lips.

Giving my lower lip a noticeable nip, he leans back with a sly twinkle in his eye. "Don't forget to message me, sweetheart; I want to know updates on your day."

Beaming up at him, I say, "Sure, have a good time at work and let me know how it goes."

When he nods in confirmation, he tells me he loves me while I do the same, and heavily wave him off and shift my body tiresomely to face the end of the street while glancing over my shoulder at the many stores' town has to offer.

The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can go home and think of the possibilities the event is going to have instore.