AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I give him an out. “You don’t have to answer. I’m just … trying to get to know you more.”
“No, it’s okay.” Remi sucks in a breath, like he’s been waiting for something and it’s finally here. “We used to have a close relationship when I was little. I was her baby. She coddled me, and my father resented me for it.” He gives me a wry twist of his lips. “He hated a lot of things, and he wasn’t afraid to attack anything he didn’t agree with.” His eyes drop, pensive. “Usually, he’s just plain mean. It’s when he’s being nice that you have to watch your back. That’s when he’s in the mood to be cruel. He knew exactly how to manipulate everyone around him so they felt inferior,” he spits out. “Dirt under his shoe.” His usually bright features darken. “Especially when it comes to my mom.” The oven timer beeps, and Remi pulls two plates out of the cabinet before removing our food from the oven. “After so long, she grew tired of it. My mom went from a vibrant woman to an ashen ghost.” He stares at our dinner, but he’s not really seeing it.
I hate the look on his face, so I go to him and gently rub his back. That’s when I realize Remi runs around giving joy to everyone he meets all the while keeping his pain to himself. He could be as bitter as me if not more, yet he doesn’t invite his past into the present. He’s eight years my junior, but I’ve learned so much from him. I want him to know he doesn’t have to go through it alone. Not anymore.
Remi’s muscles loosen under my hand, so I deepen the massage to soothe all that tension away. His eyes slide shut, and he purrs like a cat. He takes care of everyone, but it makes me wonder who takes care of him.
“You can talk to me about it if you want.”
He peeks over his shoulder at me, his chestnut irises a storm of want and hesitation.
“I’m here for you, Remi,” I murmur.
He clears his throat. “She broke her ankle during a tennis match at the country club.” I trace a finger down his spine. “That was her first introduction to the love of her life.” His tone is acerbic—a voice that doesn’t sound like him.
Anxiety creeps into my chest. “Who was it?”
“OxyContin,” he replies with so much hurt and remorse in his tone that I want to wrap myself around him. He steps away, pulling out utensils and napkins. Plating our food, Remi sets them on the counter and we sit close to each other. “Gram left Chicago to help Mom when I was born. It got so bad she moved back, and when she did, my sister left to live with her.” He uses his fork to play around with the food on his plate. “Gram pushed me to follow my passion for music and education. My sister pushed me to move here, and when she had my nephew, this is where I wanted to be. I hated leaving my mom, but I was slowly deteriorating as a person. She saw it and begged me to go.” He swallows.
I want to pull him to me. With one arm around him, I lay a hand on his forearm like I’m shielding his body from a sniper attack. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” His head turns toward me, and I realize how close we actually are. “I’m really grateful that you gave me a chance, Mae. I’m happier than I’d ever thought I’d be.”
A bubble of hope forms where the anxiety was. “If it’s worth anything, Isabel thinks you hung the moon…” I wait until he’s looking directly into my eyes. When he does, I confess, “I think you’re pretty exceptional.”
“Yeah?” He’s all soft words and small smiles. It closes the space between us and fills the moment with intimacy.
“Absolutely.” Remembering his words from earlier, I swallow a ball of regret in my throat. “About what you said earlier, about me being cold toward you. I’m really sorry about that. You have to know it wasn’t about you. It’s just…” I take a deep breath. I’m trying to be a better person—part of that is owning my flaws. “I know I can be a bit abrasive, but I am working on it.” My eyes widen with a plea. Please be patient with me. “Just know that whatever I say in my moments of frustration isn’t real. Not that it’s an excuse because it’s not, but I’m a work-in-progress.” I take a sip of wine, gathering the courage to say the next part because it’s uncomfortable for me to acknowledge that I can’t do everything on my own. “I appreciate you, Remi. You have given Isabel and me so much. It’s not just about a nanny position anymore. We need you, and that’s really hard for me to admit.”
Remi’s cheeks color, and he nods. “I need you both too.” His voice is so low I’m not sure I’m meant to hear it. But my ears picked up every syllable and telegrammed my heart: We matter to him.
I stare at the counter, tracing the veining in the stone as if it will lead me to a future where we are free to be together and everything is wonderful. I lose my path because life is full of twists and turns, and the simple fact is, daydreams are called dreams for a reason. There’s hardly any tangible evidence of them coming true.
Remi pulls my lip from my teeth and searches my face. “Where are you, Queeny?”
Walking down the aisle toward you, my brain replies, but I shake the thought off. “I’m here.” I smile. “With you.”
He’s still cradling my jaw, stroking my chin with a soft thumb. “Do you want to know why I still call you Queeny?” His words come out velvety, coating my body like butter.
“No, let me sit here and stew about it.” I meant it to be a joke, but it comes out breathy and more seductive than humorous.
Plush lips widen into a grin. “Smartass.” His giddy demeanor shifts to fever as he pins me with a stare. “You can come off as cold, but I see who you really are.” He takes my hand for the second time today. “How can I not? You’re amazing and beautiful, and regal.”
My lungs expand, absorbing his words. “You can’t be serious right now.” I go to pull away, but he doesn’t let me.
“Remember this: every time I call you Queeny, I’m telling you that I see you. How you hold your kingdom together.” He gently squeezes my fingers. “How I know you are lonely but not selfish enough to consider your own needs.” Umber eyes turn to warm caramel, dripping over my skin. “How I dream of worshiping you.” His voice turns low, husky. “In every. Single. Way.”
Oh. My. Fuck. My pussy clenches because she got the memo first. I open my mouth to say something, but the damned thing is full of cotton and unable to utter a single syllable.
“At a loss for words, Queeny?”
A nervous breath releases from my diaphragm. “What do you think?”
With one leg placed on the ground behind me, he scoots his stool closer with the other until all I see, smell, and hear is him. I’m inside a Remi cocoon, and I never want to leave.
“What I think is, you don’t want that rubbery chicken on your plate.” His mouth drops to my ear, and he noses my hair. My breath hitches. I feel him everywhere. “No. That’s not what you’re hungry for.”
“N-no?” It’s a weak plea to my libido.
