"I should ask you the same thing! You never even bothered to visit Roman and Mary when they were alive, so why are you bothering now?"
Oh shit. The second the words leave my mouth I want to reach out and erase them before he has a chance to hear them. But he heard them. I can tell by the look on his face. I've hurt him. That realization makes me feel even worse. I'm not a mean person, but what I just said is the meanest thing I've ever said to anyone in my life. I should apologize. But I don't.
What's wrong with me?
Bram is still staring at me, but he no longer looks hurt. He looks pissed off as hell. I really can't blame him, but I do. He should have been there for Mary, not dating his way through every pretty woman in New York City.
"Och, why are ye still standing about? Didn’t ye find the key in yon wee beastie?"
The silence between me and Bram is broken by a thick Scottish accent. I'm not really sure what the hell she just said, but I'm positive she's the nanny, and she's standing there, out of breath, with a suitcase in each hand looking up at us. I give her a quick smile, which feels weird on my face after the ugly exchange I just had with Bram.
The nanny nods her head, readjusts the grip on her suitcases, and starts walking towards the main door of the house. Without waiting to see what the asshole is going to do, I follow her. I can feel Bram's energy behind me, though, as we follow the little old lady into Mermaid Cottage.
6
Bram
I follow the two women into the house without a word, but I'm pissed as hell. First of all, Contessa Stephenson had no right to say that to me. No fucking right. What does she know about my relationship with my sister? Mary's my best friend, and my only family. But even as I think all that, I notice how the damn woman's long black hair swings as she walks, brushing across the top of her ass in those tight jeans. Not for the first time since I first saw her about five minutes ago, I feel myself start to go hard. Eight times three is twenty-four, nine times nine is eighty-one, six times nine is fifty-four.
I figure the old lady is the nanny I've been expecting, and Contessa said she's Roman's sister. Contessa. What is it with the names in that family? I can't call her that ridiculous name. Tessa it is, then. I do remember now that Mary had told me Roman has a sister, but I'm irritated with myself that I let her get under my skin. Ever since she pulled up to the house and didn't get out, I've felt things slipping out of my control, and I don't like that. Now the freaking nanny is leading us into the house like we're little ducklings. I feel like I should say something, attempt to assert some sort of control.
"You did as I asked and kept this from the children, right?" I notice the old lady break her even stride for a second, so I know she heard my question. She doesn't stop, though, and she also doesn't answer me. I've got no choice but to keep following the two women into Mary's house. Once inside, Tessa stands looking out the wall of windows toward the sea. She looks mesmerized, so I ignore her and walk over to where Mrs. MacThomas is in the kitchen. I think she’s making tea, of all things. All I know right now is I'm tired of being ignored.
"I have a meeting with MacTavish, the lawyer this afternoon. I assume you know what things to pack for the children. They're going back to New York with me today."
"The hell they are!" Roman's sister has stopped staring out the window and is now glaring at me. I'm glad she doesn't have a weapon because I can't be sure she wouldn't use it.
"I'm their next of kin, where else would they go?"
"You most certainly are not. I am! I'm their aunt and they know me. Have they ever even set eyes on you? Other than seeing you in an online gossip column, I mean."
The way her eyes roll tells me she's actually seen those herself. If she thinks I'm going to apologize for living my life to please myself, she's sadly mistaken.
"I'm their uncle and what difference does it make if they've seen me or not? Not that it's any of your business, but we FaceTime once a week."
Tessa walks over and stands so close to me I can smell her. I try really hard not to let her see me inhale her perfume, but I can't help myself. She smells like the honeysuckle that grows on the wall of the farm we used to have in Vermont, where Mary and I spent summers when we were little. I know I'm staring at her, but I can't stop. And for once I can't think of anything to say. My mind is blank except for the sight and smell of Tessa Stephenson. Her light tan skin is flushed, and her chest is heaving with anger and all I want to do is kiss her right now. I think I’ve lost my mind.
"Och, now. I would be forgiven for thinkin' the pair of ye had forgotten ye was fussing' o'er two wee little bairns whose lost their parents. And those parents were the two best people on God's green Earth. What use are the two of ye gonna be to them? Fussing like children yourselves."
Shit, I forgot the old lady was even still here. I don’t quite catch everything she said, but I can tell enough to know the nanny is not impressed. I’m pretty damn sure she's even just called us children. I feel ridiculous now, standing here arguing with a total stranger, and a woman at that. There's just something about Tessa that drives me nuts.
I need to get a grip. I’m a grown fucking man. I’ve faced down skillful business rivals. I’ve met the President of the United States, damn it. I can handle one small woman from Oklahoma.
"He thinks he can just waltz in here and get what he wants because he's always used to having his own way. Well, I'm not going to just stand by and let him ruin those poor baby's lives." Tessa is looking at me like I'm a monster with two heads while she’s insulting me to the nanny. I suddenly realize that while I've been staring at Tessa like a mongrel dog in a meat market, Mrs. MacThomas has been trying to get my attention.
"Ye have a meetin' with MacTavish, aye? Tessa will be goin' with ye. Off ye go."
"What? No, she's not going with me. The appointment with MacTavish is just for me." Like hell she's going with me.
"I need to see him, too. You might as well let me follow you. Besides, you won't be making any decisions about the twins without me there."
I can feel the nanny at my back, pushing me toward the door even as I'm still speaking. Tessa is also being herded outside. The door slams at our back and I feel a sharp poke in my left arm.
"I'm going to be following you. Don't even think about trying to lose me, do you understand?"
Looks like we're both going to this meeting then. "You might as well ride with me, since I can see there's no way to stop you from coming. Maybe it's a good thing. At least now you'll see that it's out of the question for the kids to go live with you."
"Who the hell do you think you are? Those children know me. They love me. They know my house and have actually spent time there before. What will they do in New York City? While you're parading a different woman in front of them every night of the week? They need stability and that's why they’re going to come live with me. Not you. Me."
God, she's infuriating. "I don't have to explain myself to you. My sister knows that I'm able to give my niece and nephew a stable life, and that's why I'm sure when we get to the lawyer's office, he'll tell us that I'm named as the children's guardian."
"Wait a minute. So, you're saying they've left a will? Of course they have. I should've thought of that. In that case, come on. The sooner we get there, the sooner you'll see that I'm the one they've chosen to be guardian. And we'll take my car."
The smile Tessa gives me is as unexpected as it is dazzling. That's the only way I can describe it. She looks freaking heavenly when she smiles. It takes me by surprise and I just stare. I know I'm staring, and I can't help it. She's in the car and I'm still standing here like a complete idiot.
Close your mouth and get in the car.
I need to quit acting like I've never seen a pretty girl before. We’ve
You’ve got work to do.
Trying like hell to ignore the effect this particular pretty girl is having on me, I get in the car and give her the lawyer's address to program into the navigation system. I clear my throat and try to think of
something to say.
"Just sit there and enjoy the silence. There's no need for chit chat."
God, she's infuriating.
TESSA
I know I'm being rude, but I don't trust myself not to say something stupid. I'm really feeling the lack of sleep. My eyes feel gritty and my head’s starting to hurt. Luckily, it's not far to this guy MacTavish's office. At least now we can straighten out this whole misunderstanding. The wills are going to prove to this overbearing beast that the kids are coming home with me.
The trip passes in complete, and very awkward, silence. Opening the car door and walking into the office like I'm all by myself almost makes me feel ashamed, but I can't help it. The receptionist's desk is empty, but almost as soon as I walk in, the door behind the desk opens and a portly little man with thick glasses and lots of bushy gray hair everywhere blinks owlishly at us both. I step forward with my hand outstretched but feel myself being rudely pushed out of the way by Bram.
"MacTavish, I'm Bramble Carter, we have an appointment."
Not caring what it looks like, I push back against Bram and get in front of him. I shake the lawyer's hand as I introduce myself.
"I'm Contessa Stephenson, the children's guardian."
"Oh man, you really are a piece of work. You're not their guardian. I'm the logical person to take care of my niece and nephew and you know it."
He's impossible. I don’t understand why he would even want two little children. They wouldn’t fit into his life of parties and a different woman every night.
I open my mouth to ask Bram those very questions, but the attorney makes a weird noise which I think is him clearing his throat, but it might’ve been actual words. I'm really struggling with the local accent. In any case, he's walking into his office and clearly expecting us to follow. Bram steps around me and beats me into the office to take the seat directly across from the lawyer. There's nothing for me to do but take the only other empty chair next to him.
MacTavish sits down behind a weirdly small and elegant desk and blinks at us. He looks like an owl. I feel another inappropriate giggle coming on and fight like crazy to keep it back. That's all I need, for these two men to decide I'm a hysterical female. It’s just because I’m so flipping tired.
The lawyer makes a few more of those strange throat clearing noises, which are surely not words, shuffles some papers around, and blinks at us some more. The giggles threaten again when I think of his bushy eyebrows as moldy white caterpillars. Finally, the man starts to speak.
"Your brother and your sister were very specific in their will about their wishes regarding the two children."
Thankfully, he’s speaking slowly. I actually think I understood all of that.
I open my mouth again to say something, but the hairy little man holds up a finger to silence me and reaches into his desk. The envelope he gives me is sealed and has my name written on the outside in Roman's handwriting. Seeing it makes my eyes fill with tears. It's just so unexpected. I was prepared for a document full of legalese to be read out loud by the old man, not a letter from my brother. I glance over at Bram and see he is also struggling. He’s also holding and envelope with his name on it, written by Mary, I assume.
MacTavish stands up and starts to leave us alone in the room. "I’ll wait for you in the conference room. Please join me when you’re ready."
The door shuts and the sound echoes around the room. I look over at Bram once more, wishing I was alone to read the last thing my brother will ever say to me, but he’s already ripping open his letter.
Reluctantly, I carefully open the letter and start to read.
Dear Tessa,
Wow. This feels really weird for me. Thinking that when you actually read this, I'll be gone. I sure hope you never have to read it, but Mary's right, as my dear sweet Mary always is. Of course, we have to plan for our little angels, or as they now prefer to be called "little monsters"! (They love the Loch Ness Monster legend, and have decided they're monsters, not kids.)
But before I begin, I want to take a moment to tell you how much I've loved being your big brother. I don't know what I would've done if I'd been left all alone after Mom and Dad died. You've always been there, my best friend and partner in crime. Man, you were such a little spitfire. Do you remember the time the red-haired social worker tried to tell us we were being sent to different homes, even though she'd promised we were going to the same place? You smiled sweetly at her, crooked your tiny finger to get her to lean down to your level, then popped her on the nose with your curled up fist, and said, "You old cowpoke. We are too gonna stay together!" I laughed so hard, and it made her so mad. She left the room spitting nails and claiming she washed her hands of us both. But it worked, and we were allowed to stay together. I have no idea what made you think that cowpoke was something bad, but ever since then, it has been my insult of choice, haha!
I see so much of your spirit in Abbie and Archie. It makes me so happy, as well, knowing that they'll grow up having each other, just like we have. And that, little sister, leads me to the whole point of this letter.
I know you've heard some of her family history but stick with me. Mary also comes from a small family. She had her father for a while, but for much of her life it’s just been her and Bram. That’s something we both have in common, Mary and I, that close bond with our sibling. We know how important it is to have people around you who love you unconditionally. They ground you, give you security and the strength to face what the cold, cruel world loves to dish out.
We've thought a lot about this, Tessa, and slept on it, and thought about it some more. We've talked about it and talked it out. Both of us believe this is the best we can do for our babies. Believe me, we know what an unusual request this is, and if we could think of a better way, we'd never ask it. But from where we stand, this is the only option that we'll both be happy with, in this life or the next.
Splitting the twins up is not an option, but I know that would never be your answer anyway. Tessa, what we need is for you and Bram Carter to both take care of Abigail and Archer, together. I know how crazy this must sound. But think of it from our point of view, and you'll know why we feel we have to ask this of you both. Who knows Abbie's and Archie's mom and dad better than the two of you? Who else will tell them stories about our childhood? Who else will know to tell them how they got their names? Who else will make sure to keep our memory alive for them, and make sure they know how very much we love them? Who else will love them nearly as much as we do?
You and Bram, that's who. Please, Tessa. Think about this before trying to find a way out. They need you both in their lives on a daily basis. You each have qualities we want our children to have. What lucky, happy kids they'll be, having the love and security of the both of you.
Remember always that I love you, sis, and I want the best for you, too. I'll go on record now, since you can't hit me, haha, saying that I never ever have liked that smug, tight-assed surgeon you're dating. I'm afraid you're actually going to marry him, and I know he isn't right for you. He isn't good enough for you, Tessa. I'm sorry if that pisses you off, but just promise me you'll take it slow and be absolutely one hundred percent sure before you tie your life to his forever. If I had the power to, I’d make sure you never marry him, that’s how sure I am that he isn’t the right man for you. That’s just me. Now, on to Mary.
You and Mary have become like sisters, so I know you understand when I tell you that Mary sees a different future for you than one as Mrs. Mitchell Sanders. I quit being skeptical of my wife’s special talents long ago, and when Mary tells me that you and her brother Bram belong together, I believe her. Yes, she had one of her ‘feelings’ about the two of you. I’ve met the man, and I've heard what Mary says about him. I can tell you without any hesitation that he’s a good man. I won’t worry a bit knowing you, the twins, and Bram are all together, taking care of each other. Of course, I can’t force you and Bram to marry, or fall in love, or come together as a family. But at least d
on't hide your heart away, Tessa, and please don't give it to that sorry excuse for a man, Mitchell Sanders. You deserve to find the love of your life. When you do, you'll know it, and I'll make you another promise. Life with someone who understands you and loves even your unsavory bits is life on another level. I really hope you find it; you deserve it so much.
Did Mary ever tell you about our little joke, about how she said she knew she'd found the right guy when she met me? She said when we first kissed that she thought my kisses were better than Hershey's. That's my wish for you, Tessa, that you meet a guy whose kisses are better than chocolate. If it’s Bram, as Mary believes, then all the better.
So, little sis, let me recap here, because I have a feeling I’ve been rambling, as usual. Mary and I are making it a condition of our will and the guardianship of our little Abbie and Archie, that you and Bram co-parent them, together. In an ideal world, that would mean you would all four come together to create a family. I hope with all my heart that it’s an ideal world. If you can’t find your way to loving him, then please, for the sake of what’s left of our family, find a way to live close to each other, in harmony and a shared love of the twins.
Okay, time to sign off, kiddo. I've said all I need to, and now it's up to you and Bram. Take care of yourself and take care of my little ones. I love you all so much.
Your brother,
Roman
I can feel my brother's love for me come through with every word in this letter. I know I'm crying, but I don't care. The one person in this whole world who knows me and loves me no matter what is gone. He's gone. I'm all alone. This is what I've been afraid of my whole life.
Through the blur of my tears, I notice Bram. I was actually so absorbed in the memories Roman's letter brought up that I forgot I wasn't in the room by myself.
Bram is pacing as he reads his letter from Mary. I'm sure it's telling him pretty much the same thing as mine did. This is a joke. It's got to be. But no, they wouldn't joke about something like this, not at a time like this.
Because of Them: Heartfelt Romance Page 4