The Offer (37 page)

I giggle.
“You’re a pervert.”

“I’m serious.
And you’re on Team Perv too, missy.”

It’s Christmas
time and Disneyland is in full swing with the decorations and
festivities and the SoCal sunshine is such a welcome respite to all
of San Francisco’s grey. The more we visit Matthew and crew, the
more I get attached to the area. I may not want to live in San
Bernardino, but anywhere on the coast would be just fine, and no
more expensive than SF.

But Bram’s
making some real progress with his building, so we’re probably
staying put in the city for the time being. Thanks to the backing
of Lachlan, his rugby-playing cousin and wannabe tycoon, and his
temporary wooing of a local heiress, they were able to start up a
non-profit and have money rolling in to not only pay off the
mortgage and provide housing to those in need, but also the
potential to open another development.

Now, Lachlan
is back in Scotland and he took Kayla back with him. It’s a long
and crazy story of how they got together— and one I didn’t see
coming—but it seems that Kayla finally met her match in that macho
Scot. I just keep thinking she’ll arrive back home in tears,
wanting to talk to me and Steph about her drama but so far so
good.

Obviously I
moved out of Kayla’s apartment, so at least I know she wasn’t
fleeing the country on account of me. Ava and I are happily living
with Bram while my old place is rented out at a low-rate to someone
who really needs it.

And now, now
things are finally back on track. They feel right. It’s all coming
together. As cheesy as this is to say, and yeah, maybe it’s a bit
presumptuous too, we’re starting to feel like a family. When I’m
not at home, Bram usually is, so we take turns caring for Ava. She
hasn’t had an incident since and has been really good. I know her
disease is something we’ll always have to watch out for and
monitor, at least until she gets old enough to do it herself.

I’ve gone back
to just working nights at the Lion. I did the assistant manager
thing for long enough but the more I worked, the less time I had to
take my designs to the next level. Bram saw my frustration and said
that if I made it my goal to concentrate 100% on my clothing line,
that I could quit the bar and he’d take care of me. Naturally my
pride didn’t like that very much, so we compromised. I still work
there as a bartender but I only do nights three times a week. The
rest of the time, I’m working on my career.

I think my
next leap is happening soon. It involves me renting a space in a
warehouse for a week, but Stephanie guaranteed that if I could get
a line of t-shirts out, she’d carry them in her online store and
help me find other distributors as well.

It’s all baby
steps for us, but it’s happening.

In due time,
as Bram would say.

Bram would
also say, it’s Bramtastic.

“
You
guys are the slowest couple I’ve ever met,” Taylor yells at us,
waving for us to get our legs moving and hurry up. We’re walking
down the fake Hollywood street in California Adventure and Ava and
Matthew have spotted Mike and Sully from Disney’s
Monster’s
Inc.
walking around.
Though there are two years between Ava and Matthew, they get along
great and their one love in common is dinosaurs (well, actually now
it’s monsters, which is why they’re going apeshit for the poor hot
people trapped in the costumes).

We all take
pictures and Irving, Taylor’s new boyfriend, gets a good one of
this crazy, mixed family. While the kids still fawn over the
characters like they’re celebrities, fun-loving screams draw my
attention to the rest of the park.

Every time we
come here we always end up on the kiddie rides and we never seem to
have the time or the opportunity to go on the big kid ones. You
know, the ones that are actually fun.

“You know
what?” I say to Bram. “I’m not leaving this park until—”

“We shag
behind the Hollywood backlot,” he quickly suggests, and I know he’s
completely serious.

“No,” I tell
him, elbowing him in the side. “For the last time, IKEA sex was the
limit for me. At least we traumatized an old couple, I’m not going
to do that to children.” He seems to pout. I roll my eyes. “What I
was going to say was, I’m not leaving this park until I go on a
ride that will have me screaming my face off.”

He tilts his
head and gives me that infamous smirk. “I know just the ride.”

“Bram, if you
say it’s your cock, I’m going to murder you,” I hiss at him, glad
we’re out of ear reach from the kids. And Taylor and Irving too.
I’m sure they don’t want to hear any of our cock talk either.

Bram is still
smirking at me so I fill in. “I mean it. An actual ride that you do
with people. Like the Tower of Terror. Or California
Screaming.”

“
I
reckon California Screaming,” he says. “Because of the word
screaming
.”

“Then it’s
on.” I squeeze his hand and then wave at the gang. “Hey everyone, I
thought I would let you all know that Bram and I are going on the
rollercoaster and you can’t do a thing about it.”

Matthew stomps
his foot. “I want to go on the rollercoaster!”

He’s tall like
his dad probably was at his age, so there’s a chance he actually
might be able to ride the coaster. But not this time. This time
it’s just for us.

“Oh, Matthew,”
Taylor admonishes him. “Let them have their fun.”

So the six of
us wind our way through Cars Land and the fake San Francisco until
we’re at the perpetually cheery Paradise Pier. We stand there for a
bit, watching the coaster cars zoom past on the epic California
Screaming, a ride that seems to do what the name suggests – make
you scream.

“You sure
about this?” Bram asks before we get into the line-up.

“Don’t tell me
you’re a pussy,” I tease him.

He pulls me to
him, burying his warm lips into my neck. “Speaking of pussy, how
about we send Ava off with Matthew and Taylor after we get back to
the hotel?”

“Oh, it would
be so obvious why.”

He shrugs, not
caring. “So? I think it’s too late for us to pretend we don’t have
sex.” We both look over at Ava and Matthew who are chasing each
other on the faux boardwalk. He’s right about that.

So we get in
line for the ride, passing the time by playing games on our iPhones
and finding out who can tell the stupidest jokes (Bram wins at
that, obviously). It’s nice though, just to be with him and him
alone. Even though we’re surrounded by people – and both insanely
jealous of the couple in front of us who had the smarts to bring
two margaritas along for the wait – it feels like we’re in our own
little world. I’m reminded of just why I love this sexy Scot so
much.

Finally it’s
time to get in. I’m giddy and Bram looks a tad unnerved, which I
find adorable. The bars lower automatically from above us, locking
us in place so we can’t fall out.

Happy,
tinkling music comes on from the speakers and we slowly move
forward, rounding the corner until we come to our holding spot
where we wait with building anticipation until we will be shot
forward and straight up the first hill.

“Mommy!” I
look up to see Ava waving at me. Everyone has gathered along the
railing above the tracks, ready for us to take off.

“Have fun!”
yells Matthew.

My heart
speeds up and I’m suddenly nervous. Just that sweet, intense
anticipation. Kind of like sex. I grip the bar lowered across me as
the chirpy countdown goes on, starting at
three
.

“No regrets,
right?” Bram asks me with a disarming grin.

Two
.

“No regrets.”
I smile right back at him. “Not in this life.”

One.

We take off
into the future.

As usual,
quite a few people to thank. I wrote this book after a lengthy and
much-needed break. Unfortunately by the time I went back into the
swing of things, my husband and I just moved into our new house.
First-time homeowners, yay! But moving and writing are hard to do
at the same time. Actually anything plus writing is hard to do and
the same could be said for moving. Somehow it got done though, it
always does.

But I think it
went so easily because of Bram “the man” McGregor. He was such a
joy to write that I rarely felt myself stressing over this book,
even when I was down to the wire, even when I didn’t have an office
to write in because it was piled high with boxes that I just
couldn’t deal with because all my energy had to go into writing.
Bram helped me by being so Bramtastic! (yeah I know, stop with the
Bram puns).

Of course Bram
wasn’t the only one who helped. Ali “Claimed Bram” Hymer was a
great help, especially in making sure the “mom” scenes were
working. Dyann “Hot Nurse” Tufts for ensuring all my medical jargon
and diabetes specifics were correct. Sandra “#1 Pervert” Cortez for
her input and enthusiasm for car sex. Laura “Eaten by Bears”
Helseth for her eagle eyes. Latyoa “Word” Smith (get it…wordsmith)
for being a great editor and for having faith in me way back when
Sins & Needles came out – it was her love of Ellie Watt and the
crew (hell, her love of Dex and Perry even before that) that
brought me into the Hachette family and my first publishing deal
and I’m so thankful she’s still such a great supporter and a
fan.

Props also go
to everyone on InstaBram – I mean, Instagram, for your teasers and
raunchiness and genuine love of books and book boyfriends. My
Instagram account feels like family – no wonder I’m on there all
the damn time (@authorhalle). All the ladies at #TeamPerv (hasthtag
dicks) and dem Whores (who are also pervs, just more subdued) and
all the hard-working bloggers for reading and reviewing ARCS and
just being so damn fabulous. Dani Sanchez for being the best Girl
Friday.

Here’s a
shoutout to everyone in their thirties and beyond who feel they’re
expected to grow up – don’t. Don’t worry if you still feel like
you’re not where you’re “supposed” to be and you don’t have a total
handle on life. Being an adult is hard for everyone, you might as
well have some fun while you’re at it. Embrace your inner child,
take chances and live with no regrets!

Last but not
least, Mr. MacKenzie and Mr. Bruce. I’m always on your team, thanks
for being on mine.

Want to
contact me? I read every email (all the nice ones, anyway) and try
my best to respond:
[email protected]

I’m also
on
Facebook

Twitter:
@metalblonde

And I am
addicted to Instagram (seriously, I post a lot of pics!):
@authorhalle

**Keep
reading for an excerpt from
Racing the Sun
– available in July from Atria Books**

BLURB:
It’s time for
twenty-four-year-old Amber MacLean to face the music. After a
frivolous six months of backpacking through New Zealand, Australia,
and Southeast Asia, she finds herself broke on the Mediterranean
without enough money for a plane ticket home to California. There
are worse places to be stuck than the gorgeous coastline of
southern Italy, but the only job she manages to secure involves
teaching English to two of the brattiest children she’s ever
met.
It doesn’t help that the children are under the care of their
brooding older brother, Italian ex-motorcycle racer Desiderio
Larosa. Darkly handsome and oh-so-mysterious, Derio tests Amber’s
patience and will at every turn—not to mention her hormones.
But when her position as teacher turns into one as full-time nanny
at the crumbling old villa, Amber finds herself growing closer to
the enigmatic recluse and soon has to choose between the safety of
her life back in the States and the uncertainty of Derio’s closely
guarded heart.

After I put
the kids to bed, I gather some of the leftovers from dinner onto a
plate, pour a glass of water, and put it on a tray. I carry it over
to the office and knock loudly.

“Derio, I have
dinner here for you,” I say quickly before he can tell me to get
lost. “You should really eat something. The kids actually liked it
so I think you should witness the fact that I finally made
something appetizing. It might never happen again.”

I wait a few
seconds and then put the tray on the ground outside the door. I’m
about to walk away when—lo and behold—it actually opens and he
peers at me with a cocked brow.

“
Buonasera
,” he
says, his voice sounding extra throaty tonight, which equals extra
sexy—and he’s speaking in Italian to boot.

“
Buonasera
,” I
tell him, trying to peek inside. “You’re not in your underwear
again, are you?”

He gives me a
lopsided smile. “I can be. Would you like to come in?”

“Are we going
to drink scotch again? Because something tells me you’ve probably
had enough.”

“Come.” He
steps back, disappearing into the office. “Bring the food.”

I give him a
look that says I’m not his servant 24/7 but bring the tray in
anyway and set it on the desk. He goes to the door and closes it.
“Would you like a drink?”

I should say
no. I sigh. “Yes.”

“
Buono
,” he says.
He goes and pours me a glass. He hands it to me, his eyes focused
on mine the whole time, as if holding me in place. Because he’s
drunk I can’t read them for the life of me. He seems to be in a
playful mood again but I’m not putting stock in anything
Derio-related anymore.