The Offer (36 page)

The better, of
course, is having Bram back in our lives. The worse is that it’s
taken a little bit for Ava to pull herself out of her whole
episode. It’s been three days and she spent a full one at the
hospital, recovering. Luckily, James was proactive and he kicked in
my health insurance the moment I got promoted, so there were no
financial scares this time around.

I’m still at
Kayla’s, which is fine. Ava and I are used to it. Being back with
Bram is so new and fresh still, and things have changed in the last
two months that it’s taking a while for us to get used to each
other again. In fact, I haven’t even slept with him after he told
me he loved me. I know that’s a bit shocking, but it hasn’t felt
right. Not yet, anyway.

Honestly, I
haven’t really been alone with Bram. Other than being at the
hospital together, I’m still working my ass off at the Lion,
refusing to relax even if he’s back in my life.

This evening
though, is quiet. It’s a Saturday night but the city is going
through a rare heatwave, complete with actual sunshine, so I guess
everyone is hogging up all the prime patio space on the streets and
by the bay. A stuffy Irish pub is the last place people want to
be.

“Hey,
gorgeous,” I hear, that beautiful Scottish brogue breaking me out
of my thoughts.

I straighten
up from organizing the beer in the fridge and look over at the bar
to see Bram strolling in toward me. He’s wearing a suit – of course
– but it’s a light stone color and there’s no tie, just his white
dress shirt unbuttoned a few, showing off that sexy throat and
summer tan. In his hands is a bouquet of pink and blue roses.

“Are those for
me?” I ask, totally charmed by the flowers and the man holding
them.

“Of course,”
he says, standing on the other side of the bar and handing them to
me. “I realize that all this time, I never had a chance to properly
wine and dine you. You know, like a gentleman would. All my wooing
was through my pants.”

I flush at
that and grin. “Well, I can’t say I objected to Bram McGregor’s
particular style of wooing.”

“Even so,” he
goes on, “since we’re all about starting over in one way or
another, I’d like to ask you out on a date.”

“Right
now?”

He nods. “Aye.
I called Kayla and she’s agreed to keep watching Ava as long as I
treat you right. Actually, she was a lot more, erm, brutal than
that.”

Kayla, God
bless her.

“So, are you
ready? Seems kind of dead in here.” He eyes the place, biting his
lip, as if this whole date thing has him a bit nervous. How
cute.

I look over at
James who’s been pretending not to listen but actually has.
“James?” I ask.

He waves at me
dismissively. “Go.”

So I do. Of
course the only problem with going from bar to date is the fact
that I don’t have any nice clothes with me.

I grab my
purse, hoping that at least my makeup and hair are holding up after
the shift, and hook my arm around Bram’s.

“I hope you’re
not taking me somewhere fancy because I don’t have any nice clothes
on me.”

“
Clothes?” he says, raising his brow and doing his best Doc
Brown impression. “Where we’re going we don’t need
clothes
.”

I giggle. “All
right, weirdo. Naked restaurant it is.”

“You’ll see,”
is all he says, voice husky, and suddenly all I want is to never
mind the date and just screw his brains out. It’s been far, far too
long and he feels far, far too good.

He takes me
out into the hot, stuffy night and into his waiting Mercedes. We
drive through the city and I get the impression we’re just kind of
meandering. I can’t complain though. With the windows down, the
breeze in my hair and Bram’s warm hand on my thigh, it’s a perfect
night with only good things coming our way, I can tell.

“How is
Matthew doing?” I ask him. I don’t mean to bring him up but Bram’s
only talked about him in passing here and there. I know that
Matthew and his mom live down in SoCal and they have their own
little life going on. So far things seem wonderfully uncomplicated
but still, I want Bram to know that it’s okay to talk about him. I
don’t mind.

“He’s fine,”
he says, his eyes gleaming under the passing streetlights as we
begin to zig-zag down the famous Lombard Street, the most crooked
street in the world. Normally going down the street makes me dizzy
but tonight I feel nothing but alive.

Bram goes on,
“I don’t talk to him that often, you know. It’s still a bit strange
for both of us. Especially since we both knew about the other but
we don’t have that relationship whatsoever. He thinks I’m just some
friend of his mom, even though he knows that I’m his father. I
guess the word just doesn’t apply other than in technical terms.
But I’m all right with that…these things take time and I have no
need to intrude on their little unit, you know?”

I can’t help
but smile softly. “I think you intruding on me and Ava’s little
unit was the best thing that could have happened to us.”

He takes his
eyes off the road to look at me. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course,” I
tell him. “You changed our lives. And yeah, maybe it was a bit,
turbulent, for a while there. But I think it sorted itself
out.”

He sighs, his
hands gripping and ungripping the wheel. “You know, I just keep
wanting to apologize. Every single day.”

“Don’t. You’ve
said enough.”

“I know,” he
says emphatically. “But it feels like it’s not enough. You’re too
good for me, Nicola.”

“No,” I tell
him. “I’m not. And you’re not too good for me. I think we’re good
together and that’s enough. It’s more than enough.”

Bram doesn’t
say anything to that and we drive through a beautiful, comfortable
silence. We head across the Golden Gate Bridge and the city
sparkles in the side-mirrors, a ghost in the night. I’m finally
about to ask where we’re actually going but he pulls the car off to
the side and we climb the steep hills to a viewpoint overlooking
the city.

There are a
couple of cars there, tourists or locals or romantics taking in the
sight of the glowing bridge. But we drive further down the lot and
park at the end so we’re completely alone.

“This doesn’t
look like dinner,” I tell him.

He’s looking
at me like he’s going to devour me and then I know what’s really on
the menu.

He jerks his
head at the backseat and I crane my neck to look as he flicks on
the interior light.

There’s a
picnic basket back there. I hadn’t noticed it earlier. He leans
back, twisting in his seat, and that wonderfully manly, fresh smell
of his makes me tingly all over. I don’t dare tell him that I used
to sleep with an old shirt of his just to keep smelling him as I
fell asleep at night, pretending he was there.

“Ta-da,” he
says, lifting up the basket. I see a bottle of red wine and a bunch
of appetizers in colorful containers – antipasto, olives, bread,
cheese, fruit, Greek salad, quinoa. It all looks absolutely
fabulous. “I thought we could have our first date here. Can’t get a
better view than this.”

We take out a
blanket he has in the trunk and lay it on the grass at the foot of
the car. He plays Lovage from his portable iPhone speakers and
lights the scene with a few electric candles. We spread out the
food and wine and we have ourselves a beautiful feast. It’s just us
and the city at our feet. I didn’t think it was possible to fall in
love with Bram McGregor all over again, but it is.

It so
fucking
is
.

And after
we’re done and the white chocolate covered raspberries are licked
off each other’s fingers, we start, well, we start licking more
than that. And I discover my love for him goes further and
further.

We make love
on that blanket, like the exhibitionists we are. The other patrons
of the parking lot are too far away to see, and they couldn’t
anyway from their angle, but it wouldn’t matter anyway. Beneath
this rare open night sky and these blinding stars that the fog so
often hides, we are deeper into each other than we ever have been
before. When he pushes inside me, I feel so complete that it brings
tears to my eyes and when I come, softly, whimpering into his
sweat-soaked neck, those tears unleash.

“Why are you
crying, sweetheart?” he whispers, voice slow and sated.

“Because I
love you,” I tell him. “And I can’t imagine anything better.”

He brushes my
tears away and doesn’t pull out, even though we’ve both come. He
stays in me until he can’t anymore.

Later, when we
pull up to Kayla’s apartment, he puts the car in park and then
twists in his seat to face me.

“Nicola,” he
says, sounding grave.

I swallow,
suddenly on alert. “What?”

He takes my
hands in his and squeezes them. He clears his throat and looks down
at my hands. “I’m going to ask you something. And then I’m going to
ask Ava. And if you both say yes, then I might just be the luckiest
fucker in the entire world.” He pauses, his eyes flitting to mine.
“Will you both move in with me?”

“Are you
kidding?” I say, wanting to laugh. “Of course we’ll move in with
you.”

“Not in my
apartment building, I mean in the actual apartment. You’d be
sharing it with me.”

“Well, you’d
be sharing it with me. And a five-year-old.”

“But that’s a
yes?”

I break out
into a stupid grin. “That’s a yes.”

He kisses me,
fast and deep and beautifully. Then we make our way upstairs to my
soon-to-be-ex apartment.

By luck – or
bad babysitting skills – Ava is still awake, playing a game with
Kayla.

“Bram!” she
says surprised, and runs over to him. He picks her up and gives her
a big bear hug.

“What are you
doing up, little one? It’s past your bedtime.” He eyes Kayla. “Have
you been giving Aunt Kayla trouble?”

I smile at the
way he’s such a natural around her. He puts her back down on the
ground and she looks at him shyly.

“I couldn’t
sleep,” she says.

“She wouldn’t
sleep,” Kayla fills in.

Bram grins at
them both and then crouches down to Ava’s level. “Listen, Ava. I
have an important big girl question for you. Are you ready for
it?”

She nods,
mouth grim and looking overly serious. “I’m ready.”

“How would you
like to move in with me? Your mom will be there too.”

Her eyes widen
and she breaks into a smile. She glances up my way.

“Is this
true?”

“Yes, angel.
If you say that we can, we can both live with Bram.”

“What do you
say?” Bram asks.

Ava actually
looks like she’s going to cry. She throws her little arms around
Bram’s neck and says, muffled, “Yes.”

My heart, my
soul, my ovaries are all simultaneously combusting.

This
man.

This damn
man.

I hear a
sniffle from beside me and Kayla is actually crying.
Kayla
who
never
cries.

“Kayla,” I
say, in mock surprise. “You’re not soulless after all.”

She glares at
me and angrily wipes a tear away. “I’m just happy that you guys are
finally leaving.” But then she huffs off to the kitchen yelling,
“This calls for champagne!” over her shoulder.

It calls for a
lot of things.

But most of
all, it calls for me to count my blessings. Because standing here,
surrounded by the people I love most, I realize I have a ton of
them.

“Bram,” Ava
says, pulling on his sleeve. “When we move in, can I have a
trampoline?”

I roll my
eyes. She’s been asking for one for as long as she’s learned how to
pronounce it properly.

“We’ll see,”
Bram says good-naturedly.

“Can I have a
pony too? Mommy won’t let me have a pony.”

He looks at me
and smiles. “We’ll have to see about that one, too. I think your
mum is going to be calling a lot of the shots.”

She pauses,
thinking.

Then. “Bram,
can I have a bugosaur?”

“I don’t even
know what that is.”

I laugh. “Ava,
if you want, you can have a bugosaur.”

“Yay!” she
cries out and then runs to our bedroom. Thank God for fictional
creatures.

Kayla brings
over the champagne and we each take a flute. We raise them in the
air for a toast.

“To new
beginnings,” Kayla says. “And getting my apartment back.”

“To love,” I
say. “And not giving up on it.”

“To Nicola’s
arse,” Bram says, “and the fact that I’ll see more of it.”

I roll my eyes
but I clink to that anyway.

We finish our
drinks and then it’s time for Bram to go home. I stand outside in
the hall with him, exchanging one long, sweet kiss, his hands
wrapped around my waist, my fingers in his thick, soft hair.

“Tomorrow,” he
says, murmuring into my neck, “you’ll come live with me.”

“Tomorrow,
I’ll be all yours.”

And the day
after that.

And the day
after that.

I’ll be
his forever.

Six Months
Later

“Bram-a-lama-ding-dong!” Ava yells at the top of her lungs.

Matthew can’t
help but join in. “Bram-a-lama-ding-dong!”

The two of
them run ahead while Taylor yells at them to “come back, where do
you think you are, Disneyland?”

Because of
course, yes, we are in Disneyland. We try and go every time we make
the trip down to visit Taylor, Irving and Matthew.

“
Don’t
you find it wrong that the kids keep using the word
dong
?” Bram
whispers to me, as we make our way through the crowds.