I put my key in the lock to my apartment and push my way in, half expecting to be bombarded by two little bundles of energy around my knees. They always run to greet me when I come home at night. Just now, though, there's only silence in the big apartment. It's empty. I’d be lying if I said I’m not disappointed.
Turning to put my keys on the hall table, I see her. My heart does a flip in my chest and I can't stop myself from walking over to her. She’s laying with her head back and her long black hair falls like a waterfall down to the floor. I want to kiss her until she cries out for me to take her. I want to hear her beg me to make love to her. Then I want to fuck her so completely that she never wants anyone else but me ever again. I need her.
I drop my keys and the noise startles her. She jumps up and I can see she's angry. What I don't know is why. Her eyes are hurling daggers at me, and her luscious lips are moving but the ocean is roaring in my ears and I can't hear a word she's saying. All I can do is stare.
"You must be having a good laugh at the country bumpkin, playing the tourist in the Big Apple, while you swoop in and kidnap the children out from under me."
I hear her loud and clear now. I'm completely in the dark about what's made her think I'm laughing at her, or why she thinks I'm swooping in for the kids. Truth is, since I've been back in New York, I haven't done a single thing about trying to get sole custody of the twins. Honestly, we’ve been playing happy family and I’m enjoying it. I love coming home every night to the kids, listening to them talk about their day, seeing their tired, happy faces always so thrilled to see me. I love their little arms around my neck and the little pecks on my cheek when they tell me goodnight. But that's not all. I love coming home to her. To Tessa. I love the smile that lights up her face when she watches me play on the floor with the twins. I love hearing about her day over dinner. I love the sound of her telling the kids a bedtime story. Her laugh, her voice, the outrageously loud way she sneezes, the strange habit she has of giggling when she's nervous and how she cries whether she’s happy, sad, angry, or glad.
I'm in love with Tessa Stephenson.
That thought scares the shit out of me, but even as I think it, I accept it. I love her. Something in the look on her face alerts me that I should really be listening to her, not lost in the thoughts in my head.
"I don't care what it takes, I'm taking the kids and going home. Don't even think about trying to stop me, Bramble Carter. I've done everything you've asked me to, I've been patient, and I believed you when you said you'd go to Oklahoma with us. But now I know you're lying, you're a liar, and you're laughing at me, and I'm so mad at you I could spit nails."
I don't know what to say. I know what I want to say. I want to tell her I'm sorry; I want to tell her I need her, that I want her and the kids to stay here with me. I want to beg her not to go, ever. I want to tell her I love her. But I don't. I can't. I’ve never been this vulnerable with a woman before, ever. I have to have time to think. So instead, I just look at her, standing there with her hands clenched into fists. I want to reach over and take them in mine until they open, and our fingers weave together. I want to kiss away the hurt I see in her eyes and rub away the anger and anxiety that is making her body so stiff and unyielding. Fuck it. I shove all my doubts out of the way and reach for her. I take her hands in mine and lace our fingers together. The expression on her face changes from anger to confusion. I have to kiss her.
Leaning down slowly, looking into her eyes, I touch her lips with mine. Giving her the chance to say no, I increase the pressure a little more. She doesn't stop me. Instead, she moves her body closer to mine and her sweet lips are kissing me back. She's so small, I'm leaning halfway over to kiss her, so I pick her up and feel what I've been dreaming of since that night on the deck as her legs wrap around my waist again. Still holding her, still kissing her, I bring our bodies down to the chair she was laying on when I came home. Her tongue is exploring my lips and it’s making me so hard against my suit pants, desperate for the wet and warmth of her.
The knock on the still open door is as welcome as stepping in horse shit with your dress shoes on.
14
Tessa
How can I be so angry at this man but still want him so much makes no sense to me. His touch makes my body tingle, and his kisses melt me into a puddle in his arms. All thought just goes right out of my head and my heart beats his name. I've never ever felt this way before and it leaves me confused, but desperate for more. When the knock sounds on the door I barely hear it. Bram though, jumps up, knocking me out of his lap, then he just stands there, looking guiltily toward the stunningly attractive woman who just walked through the front door.
It’s infuriating that a man who lies can still kiss like an angel.
The woman in the doorway looks like she walked straight off the pages of Vogue. Her platinum blond hair is perfectly styled so that it frames her face. Her turquoise blue eyes zero in on my red lips and I resist the urge to rub Bram's kisses away. I feel like a street urchin in my jean shorts and tank top next to her crisp white, figure-hugging dress. I'm not even wearing any shoes and I can feel myself blush when those impossibly colored eyes look down at my bare toes. Before I have the chance to follow my urge to bolt, the woman holds up a money clip with the initials BGC. It's full of bills the outer one is clearly a one-hundred-dollar bill. For all I know, they all are. My back stiffens at the blatant reminder that this man and woman belong to a world that doesn't include me.
"I found this after you left, darling." She glides over and presses the clip into one of Bram's hands. The hand that had been stroking my left breast just moments ago. "Oh, and don't forget about dinner Friday. You know I’d like for you to get there early to help me greet our guests."
Bram is still just standing there, holding the money clip. He's not said a single word since she walked in the door. I wonder why he doesn't introduce the woman to me, at least. He's probably embarrassed at being caught slumming it. I'm very aware of the looks she's giving me. They're saying ‘stay away, bitch, he's mine’ in a non-verbal language every woman understands. Unable to take the humiliation any longer, I turn and all but run to my room. As I do, I can hear Bram practically hissing the woman's name, "Kat."
Standing with my back against the door once I'm safely in my room I can't stop myself from bursting into tears. I cry silently and my whole body shakes, as much with anger as anything else. I can’t help but wonder if that is same woman he sent the flowers to. I’m sure her name was Kat. I don’t understand why he would be with me if he’s seeing that woman. She's gorgeous and not someone I could ever hope to compete with. And if I tried, I sure couldn't win.
I don’t know what I’m thinking. I don't want to 'win' Bramble Carter. I just need to get my shit together and go home. I don't belong here. My resolve to act dries my tears. That man can have every stunning model in the city, in the whole state of New York, for all I care. I throw open the closet and drag my suitcases out, all the while cursing myself for being so gullible. Did you forget he goes out with a different woman every weekend? Did you forget he might as well have Playboy of the Year tattooed on his forehead? Did you really think he wants you for anything other than a quick screw when he can have anyone he wants?
My cases are overflowing with clothes I've just shoved in carelessly. I stare down at it thinking it's a visual representation of what my life feels like right now. I don't know if I'm coming or going. The past week has been such a whirlwind of catastrophes and major life changes. It's no wonder I'm vulnerable to someone who is such a masterful manipulator of people. It's been a piece of cake for him to use his sex appeal to keep me here, right where he wants me. He probably thinks I'm the biggest fool on the planet. While I'm busy playing house, he's going to take custody of the kids without me even realizing it. I only just figured that out before Bram came home, then not ten minutes later, it flies right out of my head again, simply because he kissed me.
God, he must be laughing his head off at m
e. I bet he and Kat laughed about me over lunch. She probably knows his whole plan, which is why she wasn't angry or surprised to see me there, or to see that Bram and I had been making out. My blood that was like hot lava just a few minutes ago is now running ice cold. I'm royally pissed off now, Bram Carter. I dig around under the suitcases and clothes on the bed looking for my phone. Scrolling through my email, I find the one I got just this morning from the lawyer in Oklahoma, Jace Beavers, and call the number he gave me. I need to know what my rights are and what I should be doing. I need to get a plan in place. I need to make sure Bram doesn't win. Those kids are mine.
For just a split second, my body reminds me how good it felt to be in Bram's arms. A little devil on my shoulder taunts me with a picture of the four of us living here as a happy, loving family. Then the memory of Bram practically shoving me off his lap, standing there looking like a guilty little kid for all the world to see, while that woman Kat stood there smirking, smashes that pretty picture all to hell. Being a happy, loving family with Bram Carter isn’t an option. I push send to dial the call to Mr. Beavers before that little devil has a chance to tempt me again.
To my surprise, the attorney answers my call himself. I had expected to have to go through a receptionist, but he must have given me the number to his cell. He sounds just like I remember him, and his voice conjures up the image of a young professional, very earnest and clearly dedicated. Just hearing his voice makes me feel calmer. Makes me feel like I'm not alone in this fight. I pour out my story to the man, hearing him scribbling notes in the background as I talk. He doesn't interrupt me except to ask for clarification on a few things Mr. MacTavish had said. A full half-hour later, I draw a deep breath as I run out of things to say. I feel compelled to tell him that those two kids are the only family I have left in the whole world.
"Mr. Beavers, I love those children. I will do absolutely anything for them, anything to make sure they stay with me. I don't have the fortune that Bram Carter has, but I can take care of them. They won't want for a single thing while they're with me. I own my home, I have a good career, benefits, and all the love in my heart. And when they're older, they'll have the trust fund from their parents. Please, say you'll help me." There’s a second of silence and I pull the phone away from my ear to check we’re still connected. That would just suck for me to have been talking half the time to dead air.
"First of all, call me Jace. Next, I have no doubt that you can take adequate care of the children. Money isn't an issue where they are concerned, in any case, based on the paperwork you've sent over, it’s clear the children's parents have left them well off." In the pause I can hear a 'but' looming large. Jace doesn't disappoint. "But here’s the problem. It's explicitly stated that the children are to be co-parented by yourself and Mr. Carter. They have specifically named the two of you together as trustees and guardians of these kids. Unless you can show the judge that Mr. Carter is unfit to parent them, he will continue to have joint custody with you. Do you have reason to believe or have any knowledge of Mr. Carter being unfit to parent? Does he have any substance abuse problems, anger issues, anything along those lines that we could point at to show a diminished capacity to be a good parent?"
The very thought of making claims like that against Bram is ludicrous. He’s an asshole womanizer, but he loves the kids, and they love him. He’d never do anything to hurt them.
"No, he's actually really good with the kids, and they love him. I don't want to make it so he can never see them. I just want sole custody so I can stay in Oklahoma City and they can live with me."
I hear Jace exhale loudly. I guess I just took away our best chance at sole custody, but I can't lie, and anyway, even if I did it would easily be disproven.
"Okay, well, here's the only issue as I see it. It's going to pretty much be a non-starter to get sole custody. I mean, maybe you could. I don't want to say it's impossible, but it's going to depend a lot on the judge and how willing you and Mr. Carter are to work this out. What's up for discussion here is where and how this joint or co-parenting thing is going to work. Clearly, the hope and expectation of your brother and his wife is that you and Mr. Carter become a couple and live together with the kids. I take it that isn't what you two have in mind?"
"Uh, no. I can't live with that man. We are not a couple and never will be. He's a playboy and I'd never trust him to be faithful." I cringe inwardly at how bitchy I sound.
"Okay, well, if his womanizing could in any way be harmful to the children, we could use that against him in court. Let me look into it. "
The thought of such an ugly court battle makes me sick to my stomach. I would use it if I had to, to protect the kids, but I really hope it doesn't come to that.
"Back to the co-parenting arrangements, we have a really good case for at least you being able to keep the kids in Oklahoma. They are members of the Cherokee Nation and there's an argument for keeping them close to their cultural center, but the other side will argue that the children's own parents had taken them to another country, so it clearly wasn't crucial to them that the kids be raised nearby. However, there is precedent for the argument, so we'll make it anyway."
My 'but' radar is on point today. I feel another one coming on any second.
"But here's the thing. It sounds weird to say it but look at the situation as if you and Mr. Carter are going through a divorce and both want custody. Always, the best thing is for the parents to reach an agreement between yourselves that you're both happy with. The court wouldn't argue with that, as long as your decision is in the best interest of the kids. And it's almost always best for the kids for their parents to not be fighting. Have you and Mr. Carter tried to sit down and talk it out, come to an agreement you can both live with?"
"I've tried, but he's stubborn. He's convinced we'd all be better off living in New York. He even tried to buy my cooperation by saying he'd pay for me to move here, or if I want to stay in Oklahoma, he'll pay for me to come visit." Even as I'm saying this, I realize how good this offer will make him look in the eyes of the judge. "But why should I have to leave my job and home? He's the one with all the money, surely he could just as easily live part of the time in Oklahoma and fly in his fancy private jet back to New York City whenever he has to?"
I hear Jace clear his throat as the whiny sound of my last sentence echoes in my head. I hate how helpless I feel.
"Well, neither of those things is a bad idea and will surely come up in the hearing, but like I said, it would be best for all concerned if you and he could hash this out between yourselves. In court things almost always get ugly, which will be hard on the kids. Worst case scenario is it's the children who end up having to fly back and forth, living part-time in each place. Their lives will be complicated. Is that what you want for them? Because I'm willing to bet it isn't. "
No, dammit. It's not what I want. I feel a lump in my throat as I fight not to cry.
"I'll file a motion for a custody hearing. Hopefully, we'll get ours in first. But here's my professional advice, Ms. Stephenson. Talk to Mr. Carter. Try to reach an agreement you're both okay with. If you can do that, we can have this done and dusted pretty quickly."
I hate that it's all so complicated. I know he's right. My fantasy of just sneaking out and taking the kids won't work. Bram loves these kids, too, and to whisk them away would just be cruel. And probably stupid. He could say I kidnapped them.
So, I have to talk to him face to face. I just hope I can control myself. The last few times I've been anywhere near his face I've ended up kissing it.
15
Bram
What the hell just happened?
One minute the woman of my dreams is on my lap, kissing me like I'm all that's keeping her alive, and the next she's storming off and I'm left with nothing. She has to know Katrina Rutherford doesn't mean anything to me. Surely, she could tell Kat was just being a bitch. I mentally run back over the last few minutes, trying to think if I gave Kat any encouragement or gave Tessa any r
eason at all to be pissed off at me. Sure, Kat said all that bullshit about the dinner party, but I go to lots of dinner parties, Tessa knows that. It's all business.
Although, she doesn’t know that it’s all business. She has accused me of being a playboy. Dammit. Maybe it does look like I went from being with Katrina this morning straight to trying to have sex with Tessa this afternoon. If only Tessa didn't just see an asshole when she looks at me. If she'd take the time to get to know me, she'd see I'm not the man she thinks I am. I mean, I have dated a lot of different women. I don’t let myself get close to any of them. Love ‘em and leave ‘em. I’ve just been careful not to give them any hope.
All I know right now is, I want more of what we started. My lips are still tingling from the feel of hers pressed against them. My body is craving the feel of Tessa's soft, warm curves. My hands need to feel her firm breasts. It's more than that, though. I just want to be near her. To look at her smile, to smell that honeysuckle scent mixed with something that is just her, and her alone. To hear her laugh and talk with excitement. I wonder what her voice sounds like during sex. Fuck. I’m falling hard. I know that I am. I'm really falling in love with Contessa Stephenson. Unbelievable, but true. It's like I've gone my whole life just seeing part of the world, never realizing that there's a whole other layer to it. Tessa has opened up feelings I never knew existed. She's like a bright moonbeam bursting through the clouds on a dark, stormy night. I go into my office to think about this situation we’re in.
Because of Them: Heartfelt Romance Page 8