Bain, p.17
Bain, page 17
Drake directed me to meet him at a gas station not far from his house. The proposal is set for tonight.
He’s waiting parked off to the side, away from the pumps. He doesn’t bother getting out of his car so I do, patting my pocket for about the tenth time since I put the real ring in there, and head to the driver’s door.
Drake rolls down the window, a gush of warm air from the interior bathing my face.
“Got your rock.” I hand him the jeweler’s bag. It’s made of thick card stock, black with gold-foil lettering with the store’s logo. I tuck my hands into my pockets to ward off the cold.
“Thanks,” he says, and as I’d imagined he’d do, he pulls the box out to inspect his merchandise. I mean… you drop six figures on a ring, you should make sure it’s what you bought.
My hands are admittedly sweating as Drake opens the box and my eyes nearly water as I try to hold a straight face.
The ring looks even gaudier now that it’s an integral part of what’s probably a very bad prank. But fuck… the guy has given me far too much shit about his sister and it’s time for a little payback.
Drake explodes as he takes in the huge bow with a dinky little diamond at the knot. Sheer horror coats his expression. “What in the actual fuck is this?”
“I don’t know. That’s what they handed me,” I say, afraid a laugh will scrape its way out of my throat. “You paid $132,000 for that?”
“This isn’t… this can’t be…” he splutters, holding up the ostentatious knockoff that glints almost maliciously in the winter sunlight. “They fucking gave me someone else’s ring.”
Who would ever buy a ring like that for that type of money?
Drake’s eyes meet mine, brimming with raw panic.
I can’t help it. I double over with laughter, clutching my stomach as I start to wheeze.
“You fucking asshole,” Drake growls as he tosses the ring at me. It bounces off my shoulder and tumbles under his car.
I straighten up, still laughing. “Hey… that ring cost me forty-nine bucks. How dare you treat it so callously.”
Drake merely holds his arm out the window, palm up in silent demand to hand over the real goods.
I reach into my coat pocket and pull out the box. I open it and show it to him with a flourish of my hand. The jeweler showed it to me in the store and it’s admittedly stunning. Drake’s shoulders relax and one corner of his mouth curves in pride over such a beauty.
“You should see your face!”
Drake throws me a sour glance as he takes the ring, though he looks ready to throttle me. I expect him to rail at me or at the very least call me an asshole again. Instead, he blows out a huff of air and scrubs his hand through his hair. He sets the box on the passenger seat and reaches for the gearshift. “I’ve got to get going.”
My hand lands on the car door before he can roll up the window. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah… fine.”
Guilt pricks at me that I did a switcheroo on the ring, but I’m not sure that’s the cause of his angst. “What’s up?”
“I’m fine,” he growls, but he looks completely rattled.
“You sure look it,” I point out sarcastically. “Should make for a very romantic proposal tonight.”
His neck twists and he glares at me. “I’m nervous, okay?”
“That she’ll say no?”
“She’s fucking out of my league. She should say no.”
“Okay,” I say dramatically, shaking my head. “Just stop that right now. Watching Drake McGinn lose his confidence is wigging me out.”
“Just wait until you’re in this position one day,” he mutters, but that’s beyond my imagination. No desire to do this proposal thing anytime soon. Maybe never. That level of commitment is not my cup of tea and I’ve given about all I can to the situation with Kiera.
“Look,” I say, making sure his eyes are trained on me. “Brienne loves you and loves your boys. She’s going to jump at the chance to be your wife.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say and then give him a clap on the shoulder. “Now, get your head in the game. You have a job to do.”
Drake huffs out an exasperated breath and offers me a sheepish smile. “You’re right. It will be fine. All this will go off without a hitch and she’ll say yes.”
“You’re starting off right,” I encourage. “You got the right ring, at least.”
That earns me a brief glare but then he asks, “You’re good to get everyone to the restaurant?”
“Got it covered.”
“Can I trust you after this ring debacle?”
I laugh and take a step back from his Tahoe. “That was a prank, man. I wouldn’t do that to you. I’ll have Kiera and the boys there well before you pop the question.”
“And you know to come out as soon as she gives me her answer,” Drake prods. We’ve been over the game plan more times than I care to remember.
“Unless she says no,” I say with a grin. “If that’s the case, I’m running.”
“Asshole,” he mutters and shifts the Tahoe into reverse. “Just have them there on time and I’ll refrain from beating your ass for the ring prank.”
“Deal.” I chuckle as I turn away to head for my car, but Drake calls out to me. I look over my shoulder. “Thank you for getting the ring and helping Kiera get the boys there tonight. I appreciate you having my back.”
“No problem.”
“I’ve got your back too,” Drake says, and that causes me to frown, but he clarifies. “When you become a dad… I’ve got your back. It’s a wild ride, scary as shit and you never feel as if you’re doing the right thing. Any doubts, you pick up that phone and you call me, okay?”
Well, fuck… Drake McGinn actually does have a heart. “I appreciate it.”
I don’t dare tell him just how freaked I am on any given occasion. Since the emotions inside me range from deliriously happy to terror-induced nausea, I’ll take all the help I can get.
He gives me a rare, genuine smile. “Now get out of here and remember, no screwing around. This is important.”
I give him a mock salute. “Got it. No screwing around.”
Not that I need to give him assurances. I know when pranks are appropriate and when they’re not. I have no intention of ruining his evening with Brienne.
♦
The swanky French restaurant, Le Papillon Doré, shimmers in the evening light as I pull into the parking lot. It’s almost empty since Drake rented the entire place for his romantic dinner and I assume the cars that are here are for the waitstaff and chefs.
Jake, Colby and Tanner are all dressed in little suits and ties, and they look fucking adorable. I put on a suit myself, even though our part in tonight’s festivities is minimal. Still, it’s an opportunity to dress up and I wouldn’t deny Kiera, who’s beyond giddy with excitement.
I glance at Kiera, her long blond hair elegantly cascading over one shoulder. She’s wearing a gorgeous ruby red dress, which is most definitely her color. This dress isn’t the sexpot number she wore to the gala but rather a formfitting, long-sleeve wool outfit she’s paired with black high-heeled boots. Her stomach is as flat as ever, which is to be expected at this stage in the pregnancy, but I do wonder what she’ll look like with a baby bump. I’ve seen pregnant women throughout my life, including the beautiful wives of teammates. I never really gave a second thought to any of them, but for some reason, I can’t wait to watch Kiera’s belly grow over the coming months. I don’t know if it’s a special kind of kink or what, but it’s a turn-on.
Kiera smiles at me after I park behind the restaurant. The glow of the dashboard accentuates the twinkling in her blue eyes… a mixture of excitement and romance. Everyone piles out of my car, our exhilaration infectious as the boys giggle and Kiera squeezes my hand hard.
At the back door, the owner meets us as Drake had planned. He introduces himself as Maurice Aubert in a lilting French accent and motions us in and out of the cold. “Come in, come in.”
We enter the kitchen area and not much is going on. There are two chefs—one uses a handheld torch over crème brûlée and the other surfs his phone.
“Monsieur McGinn and Mademoiselle Norcross are just finishing up their entrees,” Maurice advises us. “And I must say, it’s a very romantic atmosphere. You see it in the eyes… such a deep well of love. Very exciting this proposal, non?”
My hand rests at Kiera’s back and I can feel her practically vibrating.
Maurice tells us that he served a classic coq au vin paired with a 2010 Château Latour. I must have had a blank look on my face because he adds, “It goes for fifteen hundred dollars a bottle.”
Jesus fuck. Drake is not holding anything back, although I doubt expensive things mean much to Brienne. She could buy a country if she wanted to. I suspect just the act of renting out the restaurant will get him a solid yes tonight.
Maurice leads the boys over to where the chef is working on the dessert. He explains how the sugar is being caramelized and we all watch as he writes “Will You Marry Me?” in chocolate before carefully placing the open ring box on the plate.
Oddly, that’s something I probably would have called cheesy, but for some reason, I think it’s a nice touch.
A waiter comes in from the dining area carrying the empty plates. He looks at Maurice. “They’re ready for dessert.”
Maurice claps his hands lightly and motions to the plate with the ring. He snaps at another who pulls out a bottle of champagne and a bottle of sparkling grape juice—presumably for the boys, although Kiera will be drinking it too. It’s set on a tray with multiple flutes, which I assume will be carried out after the proposal.
The waiter picks up the plate.
“I should switch the ring again, right?” I tease, nudging Kiera.
“Don’t you dare, Bain,” she says, a playful glare in her eyes as I throw up my hands in surrender.
Maurice motions us to follow the waiter to the swinging kitchen door. “You’ll all be able to peek out from here and watch. Mademoiselle Norcross’s back is to us.”
That’s a nice touch.
The waiter walks out and before the door swings back, we poke our heads through. We’re like a totem pole with the boys at the bottom, their eyes wide with anticipation. Kiera’s in front of me and I’m tall enough to see over her head. I can’t resist resting a hand on her hip as we watch.
Drake sees the waiter approaching Brienne from the rear and this was all evidently choreographed. As soon as the waiter starts to set the plate down, Drake takes Brienne’s hand from across the table. She doesn’t even dip her head to look at the dessert and Drake has his eyes locked on hers.
His voice is loud enough, it carries to us. “Brienne, I don’t know how I did life before you. Maybe it was all a test to see if I was worthy of you and you’ve honored me with your trust, love and loyalty. You’re my partner, my very best friend and the woman I will love until the last breath leaves my body. But it’s not enough. I need more. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”
Drake nods down at the plate and we can see Brienne’s head drop and assume she reads the question… sees the ring.
Then she squeals and I’ve never heard a sound like it before. Brienne Norcross is the epitome of elegance, sophistication and grace, and yet she lets out a bleat of pure joy as she jumps up from the table and flings her arms around Drake’s neck. He stands from his chair and they kiss passionately.
“Can we go?” Jake whispers.
“Go for it,” Kiera says and the boys burst out of the swinging door while Kiera and I follow at a more reserved pace, our fingers laced together.
The boys call out to their dad, breaking the kiss. Brienne whirls to see them and tears well in her eyes. Her hand flutters at her mouth and it’s Tanner who slams into her, his little arms going around her legs as he tips his head to look at her. “Can I call you Mommy when you and Daddy get married?”
Brienne hugs him to her. “You can call me whatever you want whenever you want. But I’m going to take care of you for the rest of your life, okay?”
Kiera’s fingers reflexively grip hard onto mine and I look down to see her crying. My arm goes around her shoulders and I pull her in close as we watch Drake shoo the boys away so he can put the ring on Brienne’s finger. She admires it and then the boys ooh and aah.
Finally, Brienne’s eyes pin on Kiera and she pulls away from me to hug her future sister-in-law. The waiter comes out with the champagne and sparkling grape juice. Flutes are filled and toasts are made. There are more hugs and kisses and Drake even tells the story of how I switched out the ring and gave him a heart attack. Brienne laughs so hard, her face turns red.
Eventually, I gather Kiera and the boys. I’m taking them back to Drake and Brienne’s house where Kiera will stay the night with the kids. Drake booked a suite at the Omni William Penn and while I’ll stay for a bit with Kiera, it won’t be an overnight thing.
While the boys chatter on the ride home in the back seat, I notice that Kiera is quiet. She stares out the passenger window as the downtown lights fade behind us.
“You okay?” I ask.
She turns her head my way. “Yeah… just reliving that. I’m so happy for Drake.”
“It was a pretty cool proposal, I’ll admit.”
“He’s always been a family man. The settling-down type. When things didn’t work out with Crystal, my heart broke for him. As much as he tries to act all gruff and standoffish, he’s a teddy bear on the inside. His circle is definitely complete now.”
I don’t reply because I can’t tell if that’s wistfulness in Kiera’s tone. Is she wondering if she’ll have that one day? I’ve come to know the woman well the last several weeks and I know marriage has never been an immediate goal. But admittedly, I have no clue how she really feels about settling down now that we have a kid in the picture. I know we’re giving the relationship a go, but should we consider something more permanent?
The word marriage makes me feel off balance, but the answer is elusive and nothing feels right.
But then again, my life is incredibly tumultuous right now. Other than committing my support for the baby, all other decisions will have to be made when they do feel right.
CHAPTER 24
Kiera
It’s girls’ night.
Not at the club, but in the Pittsburgh Titans’ owner’s suite.
Normally, Brienne uses this space to entertain business guests and sometimes conduct meetings, all while watching her team play. Tonight, though, it’s closed off to all business acquaintances and more importantly, open to her closest friends.
Over the last year since the crash, Brienne’s circle has grown. Once she stepped into the shoes of her late brother as the sole owner of the Titans, she became more personally invested. That included bringing all the significant others under her wing.
It was hard for her at first because she’s never really had time to cultivate personal relationships and she works in such a ball-busting career, it’s awkward sometimes for her to let her hair down.
But tonight we’re all carefree laughs as we cheer on our men.
The suite is beyond luxurious. It’s located at a premium vantage point, offering unobstructed views of the ice. At the front is a balcony with three rows of leather seats so plush you sink into them. That spreads backward into a living area with sofas and chairs to relax in as well as round dining tables and high tops. Large screen TVs dot the walls so you can watch the action while getting a drink from the open bar.
The walls are covered with personalized memorabilia and other Titans decorative elements, including the logo recessed into the ceiling and outlined in neon tubing.
The food is the best and tonight we’ve got a buffet of sliders with a build-your-own taco station, warming trays of loaded potato skins and hot wings. For the more health conscious there’s a massive veggie platter and a Caesar salad. And if that’s not enough, an array of chocolate brownies, cheesecake bites and fruit tarts for dessert.
I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but ever since finding out I’m pregnant, I’m hungrier than ever. I think about food a lot.
I think about sex a lot, too, but that’s just because it seems to have gotten better and better with Bain. Which I’m not even sure how since it was the best I’d ever had. Maybe it’s hormones. Maybe it’s an increased intimacy based on sharing something so personally deep.
Regardless, I can be bought with food or sex with Bain at this point in my life.
I’m sitting in the front row of seats with Danica, Tillie, Harlow and Stevie. Behind us sit Brienne, Sophie, Jenna and Ava.
It’s pure coincidence that we’re sorted with us in the first row dating players and the second row coaches. Of course, Brienne is unique, given she sits above everyone on the food chain.
She is, however, my friend and secondly, she’s going to be a sister to me when she and Drake tie the knot.
The first period is winding down and neither team has scored. We’re playing the LA Vipers and they’ve been having a rough season with injuries. Their goalie, however, is hot this year and it’s hard to get anything by him.
The players converge on the defensive zone face-off circle after a TV timeout. Drake rolls his shoulders and crouches, ready to stop a quick shot.
I fix my gaze on Bain, positioning himself nearer to the net. The deafening cheers of the crowd reverberate through the arena, fueling my excitement. Twenty-five thousand cheering people coalesce and that massive buzz of excitement is how I feel every time Bain is on the ice.
The ref drops the puck and Stone reaches it first, but there’s a scrabble for control. It squirts free and Bain gives chase, managing to collect it off the boards and shovel it to Kirill just before he’s slammed into the glass. I wince but he’s fine, pushing off and giving chase as the Titans race down the ice toward the Vipers’ net.
We’re quick to capitalize on the transition. Coen charges forward with lightning speed, accepting a quick pass from Kirill. Stone matches Coen’s strides along the near side with Boone just opposite him, their movements synchronized beauty. Bain and Kirill hover back to defend if we lose the puck. Coen jukes, fakes a pass to Stone, but sweeps it cross ice to Boone with pinpoint accuracy as he makes a beeline for the net. The cheers intensify with each passing second and all of us women stand up in a giant wave of frenzied support.
