No Ordinary Bloke (29 page)

We’d been pretty rough, though, so when we were both spent and on our backs, I nuzzled up to her. “Did I hurt you, love?” I asked.

“No, not at all.” She smiled. “I’m pretty sturdy.”

“Yes, you are.” I kissed her neck. “I don’t ever want to hurt you though.”

“I know. I don’t want to hurt you either.”

I inhaled her scent and hoped would linger on my sheets after she’d gone. My heart hurt just thinking about her absence. I knew she’d miss me, too, but did it feel the same for her? I wanted to tell her that I loved her. I did. I was sure of it, but I wasn’t sure she was ready to hear that from another guy again. Just getting Allison to agree to being my girlfriend seemed like a big step for her. With a sigh, I murmured, “I’m still falling in love with you.”

I looked up at her, and she dazzled me with her broken smile that I believed was just for me. Grazing her hand over my cheek, she said, “I’m still falling in love with you, too.”

T
he next three months were as much fun as I’d had in my whole bloody life. Allison and I saw each other as much as possible, and because both of our jobs required us to be on the road, we travelled everywhere together. Depending on our schedules, we’d meet up with one another either on the road or at home. From Dubai to Rio to Chicago to Beijing, we made the most of our time in the cities and their hotel rooms.

We always saw each other at least once a week, even if it was only for a couple of days, and then of course, we would talk on the phone every night and text and email throughout the day. She made my life happier, and I was pretty sure I did the same for her. Life felt like a holiday with her. If this was love, then I was ready for it. Adam would just smile and pat my back, saying, “It’s only a matter of time, mate. Just a matter of time.”

Sure, there were little fissures between Allison and me that would occasionally develop. Ghosts of girlfriends past always caused tension. Just as I told her would happen, they appeared less frequently the longer we were together, but there were still too many for her liking. The sad fact was that she was chastened by her experience with Trey, and she was wary of getting cheated on again. I couldn’t blame her for that reaction. It wasn’t like I could point to this history of healthy, monogamous relationships to recommend me.

But I really hated the fact that he came sniffing around her all the time, just wanting to be “friendly” as he told her. I was certain his idea of “friendly” involved the removal of Allison’s knickers. I hated him for it, but I couldn’t say much. The few times I commented to Allison I got cold glares from my darling girl. She was worried I’d go mental and get into a fight with the twat.

Now, I would never have done that, but unfortunately, past performance was an indicator of future potential. In my case, I’d fought over her before with less reason than I might have with Trey. After the incident in DC, I tried to be on my best behavior around her and never get into a fight, regardless of the issue, but it was hard.

In the end though, the fissures were microscopic compared to the bond that Allison and I had. She was everything I could ever hope for—a strong woman with a soft heart who could make me laugh and cry, and who was pretty as a princess. She was the last person I wanted to talk to at night, and the first person I wanted to see in the morning. I’d already decided I wanted to make that possible on a daily basis. If that meant me moving to New York, I’d do it. I would do anything for her, but sometimes I didn’t think she believed me.

One long weekend in June, Allison and I visited Adam, Nicki, and Little V at the Kincaid place in Scotland. I hadn’t briefed Allison much about the trip because frankly, if I told her, she wouldn’t believe me. The taxi driver was the first to tip her off that we were going somewhere special.

Before we got in the taxi at the airport, I told him where to take us, and he only nodded. His questions began after we got in the cab. First, he looked at me in the rear view mirror with suspicious eyes, and I knew what he was wondering. Admittedly, it was a good question. Why is the cockney bloke in the fancy clothes taking the American bird to Lathan, the Kincaid family estate?

As soon as he started the car, he said, “Lathan is a fine place. The caretaker’s name is Gerald. He’ll show you around. Tell him Duncan says hello for me.”

Allison gave me a curious look, and I answered it by answering the cabbie. “I know Gerald. Good man.”

“How do you know Gerald?” he asked, taking his eyes from the road and onto the rear view mirror so he could watch me answer.

“Adam Kincaid’s my cousin.”

Now a snooty arse might’ve called Adam “Viscount Kincaid” rather than “my cousin,” but that seemed unnecessary. Most people in this Godforsaken, far corner of Scotland knew the Kincaids and who they were. Certainly, Duncan, the nosey cabbie knew.

“You don’t sound like a Kincaid,” Duncan said

“That’s why my last name is Bates,” I said with a laugh.

Not liking being left out of the conversation, Allison asked Duncan, “How long has Gerald worked there?”

“Long time. As long as I can remember. I think this may be his third Viscount Kincaid.”

We might’ve been interrogated by Duncan for the rest of the way, but thankfully, his mobile rang. As he talked to his wife about their shopping list, Allison turned to me. “Are you taking me to Downton Abbey?”

“Similar, but not so much.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a big fucking house, but Adam’s family only has a large apartment there now. The state owns the house, and now it’s mostly a museum.”

“Wow.”

“I hate it.”

“You do? Why? It sounds fascinating.”

“I feel like a peasant when I’m there.”

She gently pushed my leg. “What? How can you say that?”

“To some people all that grandeur is exciting. To me, it makes me feel like I don’t belong there.”

“Right…” she said, though not convinced at all. “I’ve seen how you live. I’ve seen your car. You’re not a peasant.”

“That’s what Adam and Nicki say.”

“They’re right.” She laughed.

As we drove down Lathan’s long road to the main house, Allison looked around at the fields. I smiled and pointed to a distant tractor. “It’s a farm.”

She shook her head. “No. I grew up on a farm. This is an estate. Now I know why you feel like a peasant.”

“Will you ever take me to your farm?”

“Absolutely.” She kissed my cheek. “Just don’t expect much. It’s nothing like this.”

I kissed her cheek right back. “I bet it’s great.”

What did I say about luck? That it had to do with chance? The bloody universe had its own ideas about our fate, and it also laid out our path. The different paths people got were fucking unfair, but it wasn’t like you could choose your path. You only had a choice in the chances to take and decisions to make. Sometimes those choices were ultimate, moral choices, sometimes just simple decisions, and occasionally, something in between. And sometimes those simple decisions altered everything for better or for worse.

Despite all the times I griped about Lathan for this and that, I did usually enjoy it there, and I was excited to show Allison around. I’d never, ever admit it out loud, but I was also a wee bit proud to have a connection to the aristocracy even if I always railed against it. As an American, Allison was fucking agog about it all. I understood a little more about why she thought Trey was so interesting. He was a blueblood American, the closest thing you could get there to an aristocracy. He was a world away from a poor farmer who blew his head off in the barn.

When Adam took us through the house’s portrait gallery, going on about all his ancestors in frilly collars and tosser tights, Allison was speechless.

Nicki simply laughed about it all. “I feel like we’re at a museum when we’re here. It’s not how we live. Adam doesn’t buy half of it.”

“Yeah, but you’re connected to it. Isn’t that cool?” Allison asked.

“A little.” Nicki bounced V over her shoulder. “Adam doesn’t care that much so I don’t either. His only request is that we spend enough time in the UK so our kids don’t have American accents.”

“I can understand that. American accents are ugly,” said Allison. She looked around the grand room. “So will Veronica inherit all this? Does she get a title?”

I touched Veronica’s nose. “She’s my Lady Veronica with or without an official fucking title.”

“All our kids inherit it, but only a male can be a viscount. It’s bullshit that way,” said Adam.

“Yes, it’s bullshit,” I grumbled. I turned to Allison, “Didn’t the Americans rightly wage a revolution against all this?”

“Yes.” Allison laughed. “But we’re still fascinated by it. Egalitarianism isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

I gave Adam a pat on the back. “Do you still have that Nanny McPhee to watch Little V when you’re up here?”

“Sure,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“I think we should ring her up and take Allison out to see how the other side lives around here. Let’s go to the pub.” I looked at Nicki, the real decisionmaker about such things. “What do you think, Nicki?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” she answered. “Where do you want to go?”

“How about The Kirkham?” I offered. “The people are nice there.”

Nicki grinned. “The Kirkham is one of my favorite pubs even though I can’t understand a word anyone is saying.”