Brant hurried his ass off and was still late for dinner, arriving back at the resort in time for the dessert and champagne to be served.
His eyes searched for Nik, only to see an empty space next to Cole. Panic flared in his chest. Where was she? Was she okay?
“Brant.” Grandfather stood, interrupting Brant’s racing thoughts. “I take it things went well?”
“Yeah.” Brant nodded, hoping his one-word answer would keep the old man from further questions. He had more important things to talk about—like where the hell Nikki was. “Cole,” he barked.
Cole rolled his eyes. “What’s up?”
“Where’s Nik?”
“She called and said she was too tired to join us.” He shrugged.
“So you just let her go back to her shitty apartment and sleep?”
“No.” Cole’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Because I knew you’d get your dick in a twist if she wasn’t waiting in your hotel room as planned. I walked my ass over there like the best friend I am, packed her a bag, made sure she had room service sent to your bedroom, and tucked her in bed.”
Brant clenched his fists while Cole gave him a smug grin. “You tucked her…in bed?”
“He took off her shoes,” Bentley interjected. “Damn, she’s got you wound tight.” He stood and slapped a hundred-dollar bill into Cole’s waiting hand. “Next time just count to five before you react. It may save me some money and I’ll stop lining this schmuck’s pockets. That’s the second bet I’ve lost tonight!”
Brant glared at them. “What was the first?”
Grandfather motioned Brant over. “Sit down, have a drink with us.”
“She packed lingerie.” Cole crossed his arms.
“Brant, come on,” Grandfather said again.
“Loyalty to Grandfather…” Bentley held out one hand and then lifted the other “…or potential sex?”
“Decisions, decisions.” Cole sighed and shook his head. “However will you choose?”
“Son, you’ve been gone all night, so sit down and talk business. You’re here to work, not socialize, right?” Grandfather called again, and this time Nadine patted the seat between them.
“Who bet against me?” Brant asked.
Cole pointed to Bentley.
“Dude.” Bentley looked offended. “Blood is thicker than water, trust me, but I also know every man in this family has a sick, twisted loyalty to that insane grandfather of ours, so I predicted you’d stay and talk shop before heading upstairs. And by the look on your face I’m wrong, so…” He cursed and pulled out another hundred-dollar bill and gave it to Cole.
“Amazing. It’s like I just got a bonus.” Cole shoved both bills into his pocket and grinned. “Well?”
“Jackasses,” Brant mumbled as he turned on his heel and sprinted toward the elevator, hitting the button at least five times before it would light up. The hell!
He stepped in and pressed the penthouse only to have a mom and her child both yell, “Hold the elevator!”
Moral dilemma.
With a curse, he put his hand between the doors just in time for them to step in.
“Thanks, mister.” The boy saluted him like he was a soldier and then proceeded to press every damn button only to say, “Look, Mama, a Christmas tree!”
“I’m so sorry!” The mom’s face reddened. “Elf is his favorite move!”
“Guessed that,” Brant said in a dry tone. The elevator stopped at the next floor, the doors opened and closed, and the process was repeated for each floor thereafter.
Luckily, there were only six floors.
By the third floor, the small boy was dancing in circles despite the mom’s best effort to keep him from colliding with the walls.
A smile played at Brant’s lips when the boy suddenly wondered aloud, “Mama, where do babies come from?”
Brant choked back a laugh.
The mom gave him a panicked look and laughed nervously. “Um, you know, that’s a fantastic question for Grandpa.”
“He said to ask you.”
“Rat bastard,” she murmured under her breath.
“Rats?” The little boy said, “They come from rats?”
One more floor.
“Actually”—Brant knelt down to the boy’s level and pointed up at his mom—“they come from love.”
“Love?” He made a face. “How does love make babies?”
Brant shrugged. “That is for you to find out, once you’re in love, I guess…but here’s a secret: Your mommy and daddy’s love is just so powerful that they made a little boy who has both his daddy and his mommy inside.”
“Wow!” the boy exclaimed.
Tears filled the mom’s eyes as the door opened for the fifth floor, and the boy bolted out. She stayed behind for just a moment.
“Th-thank you.” She raised her hand to Brant’s arm. “His dad was in the army. He died a few months ago. That was”—a tear fell—“That was probably something he needed to hear.”
She walked off, leaving Brant in stunned silence.
How often had he ignored life these past four years? How many days did he numb himself to the pain, thinking he was the only one in the entire universe suffering? How was his pain any greater, any more justifiable than that little boy’s?
He still smiled. He lived.
Damn it.
His son might have died. But Brant had died right along with him, hadn’t he?
The elevator doors closed.
When they opened again Brant felt…different. Imagine that, a conversation with a five-year-old was all it had taken.
Forget shrinks. He just needed someone innocent to remind him why life needed to be lived. Nadine had led him there, despite his best efforts to stay away, and all it took was for a little boy to give him the final push.
Life. Living. Definitely not for the weak of heart. But worth it, so worth it.
He tapped his card against the door to his suite and entered. The lights were lowered. He grinned as he stepped over a pair of black Ugg boots and then made his way into the bedroom.
“I thought you’d be sleeping,” he said.
Nikki shook her head and changed the channel on the TV. “I was exhausted, fell asleep for an hour, and then woke up with more nervous energy than I know what to do with. Did you know that houseflies hum in the key of F?”
Brant frowned. “What the hell are you watching?”
“Not watching, listening.” She grinned. “Also, sharks can smell even the tiniest amount of blood in the water—up to three miles away. I’m never getting in the ocean again.”
“You’re still obsessed with shark attacks?” Brant groaned. “Nik, how many times do I have to tell you—shark attacks are really rare.”
Her face broke out into a breathtaking smile as she tossed the remote on the bed and hugged her knees, resting her cheek against them. “See, it was a good thing we never had a honeymoon, because knowing you we’d end up somewhere tropical, and I’d be the person in that one percent.”
“It’s higher than that.”
She paled. “See!” Throwing up her hands, she leaned back against the headboard. “Never happening. You know a fun place to visit? The Arctic.”
“Oh, so you’d rather get mauled by a polar bear?”
Her frown was adorable. “Brant, they’re bears.”
“Are you serious right now? Bears are insanely dangerous!”
“But polar bears are white and cuddly!”
“Right! And almost always covered in blood! There are a shit-ton of polar bear attacks every year. I promise you.”
“Why are you ruining polar bears for me?” she moaned. “Thanks, dream killer. You gonna tell me that hippos aren’t friendly, too?”
“Aw, babe.”
“Brant! They’re always smiling!”
“They are literally the second most violent animal on the planet. Believe me, you don’t want to be near a hippo.”
“Even though their ears move and, okay, I’m going to stop talking now because you’re quiet and it’s a mocking quiet. Stupid Animal Planet channel!”
“Turtles,” he blurted, pulling off his shirt and sliding his pants down to the floor, kicking his shoes off then joining her in bed. “They’re friendly.”
She was quiet for a bit and then let out a loud sigh. “Okay, I can like turtles.”
“I feel like I just ruined all animals for you in one single conversation.”
“You did.”
“Come here.” He chuckled and tugged her against his near-naked body. “Are you ready for our last date?”
She froze in his arms. Was it apprehension or fear? Maybe both?
“Come on.” He pulled her to a sitting position in bed and then moved so he was straddling her, stacking pillows behind him so he was sitting up straight with her leaning back against him. “There.”
“This is our last date? Sitting in bed?”
“The night before our wedding,” Brant whispered, his fingertips drawing slow circles on the inside of her wrist. “One of my favorite memories.”
Nikki laughed; it was so pretty to hear her joy. “Brant, we stayed up all night and watched The Godfather Parts One, Two, and Three!”
“Because you were nervous.”
“Because I was nervous,” she repeated in a sad voice.
“Because your parents basically disowned you. My grandfather didn’t approve. I was starting a new job, you were trying to get a job, and we were only twenty-one.”
“The world was against us,” Nik whispered. “And yet—” She twisted in his arms so they were face-to-face. “I knew they were wrong. I just…” Tears filled her eyes. “Every girl dreams of her wedding day, and those dreams always include family, laughter, cake.” A tear slid down. “We still had fun, you and me, and it was nice of your brothers to show up with some close friends. At the time, I didn’t care. I just wanted you.”
“And now?” He almost didn’t want to ask. “Do you need all of that?”
Nikki cupped his face with both hands and whispered, “I have everything I need.”
I have everything.
I have everything.
I’ve lost everything—only to find it again.
Laughter, it was the first thing he thought of. They used to laugh all the time. They’d rarely argued, and when they did, they almost always ended up having sex afterward—amazing sex—earth-shattering sex.
“Are we really going to watch The Godfather?”
“I figured I could watch and give you a play-by-play. You hated all the blood and gore the first time, so we can skip to the good parts. Last time you gagged.”
She smacked him in the chest. “I did not gag!”
“You gagged.”
“Someone’s argumentative tonight.”
“I’m always argumentative.”
“That’s true.”
They sat in silence, the glare of the TV the only light in the room. He could sit like this, with Nik in his arms, forever.
“Nik, I know this is our last date but—”
“I can’t,” she interrupted. “Let’s just focus on tonight.”
His heart sank.
Because what if she walked away after everything was said and done, after his surprise? Just like he had walked away. It would be her right. And the honorable thing would be to let her go since he promised he would give her the choice.
But this time it wouldn’t be without a fight, one he intended to win.
“Tonight.” He kissed the top of her head just as she slid her hand down his naked chest and followed it with an open-mouth kiss to his shoulder. “That feels good.”
“I want that. To make you feel good.” Her hands reached for the front of his shirt.
“I won’t argue with that,” he whispered against her neck.
“Wow, all I had to do was kiss you?” She pressed another kiss to his shoulder, then nibbled.
His voice lowered. “Well, you know what usually follows after kissing?”
“Ah, you mean cuddling?”
“Nik.”
“Spooning?” she teased. “Battleship!”
“Watch me”—he pulled her fully onto his lap—“sink your ship.”
“Silly man, I’ve already surrendered.” God, he wished that were true, that her walls weren’t still fully erected around her heart—but he would have no idea until he asked the question that had been burning since he started this plan of seduction and favorite dates: Would she choose him? For life? Not just for now, but forever?
“Good.” He kissed her, and her tongue slid against his with light feathery strokes.
He was out of dates.
One plan remained.
Tonight. Tonight he would love her—and hope that tomorrow it would be enough.