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Smith
Fuck.
Cassian
Fuck.
Damon
On it.
But that’s totally what the card said, didn’t it?
Watching my big brother with Remi is really fucking annoying.
And cute, I guess.
If you’re into that sort of thing.
In a turn of events that’s shocking to no one, they work perfectly together. Smith may not be a chef, but he’s every bit as scrupulous as Remi is. When she gives him a direction, he follows it to the letter, moving around the kitchen like he’s there with her every night.
I’m in his usual place at the kitchen table, feeling a weird sense of role-reversal when he steps up behind her and wraps an arm around her waist. She’s entirely focused on some gravy bubbling in a saucepan, frowning at it while he drops his forehead to her throat and scent-marks her.
He’s been all over her since we came home from our road stretch this morning. And, apparently, for the last three days, in general. I don’t even think he’s been to the office, unwilling to leave her for that long.
I remember that feeling, after the first time I knotted her. It’s particularly bad for pack alphas, according to Damon’s research. Which explains why Smith is hogging her right now even though we’re the ones who have been away for almost two damn weeks.
I’m trying not to be a jealous dick.
I’m really bad at not being a jealous dick.
Absentmindedly, Remi reaches behind her and pats the side of Smith’s hair. He smirks, though she can’t see him, amused that she barely notices his advances at this point.
When he turns his face into her hair and whispers something, she suddenly whips her head around. They share a private look that leaves him grinning and her lowering her lashes in the most beautiful cock-tease of all time.
The scent of her perfume winds across the kitchen. I grit my teeth to keep from getting up and going over to her, wanting them to have their time together.
But my girl feels me struggling.
Butterfly-blue eyes flit to mine, her face warming in the special, unguarded smile she seems to reserve just for me. It’s younger and more carefree, somehow, than the sassy smirks she gives Smith, or the flirty giggles she saves for D.
Not for the first time, I wish I could feel her. The looks she gives are everything, but I want to be able to reach for her without ever having to glance up.
That’s a lot, for me. I’ve always liked silence. Being alone. The thought of having someone in my head is pretty much my worst nightmare.
But Remi?
She’s already there. All the time.
A whisper. Sunshine. The color and lace and warmth I don’t have.
Having her in my blood doesn’t feel like an intrusion. It’s more… completion. I wasn’t whole before. Now I am.
We are.
I watch her read my face. The humor falls off hers, but the joy remains, shining in her gaze. “Bear, come help me?”
God, she’s the sweetest fucking thing. How did we get so damn lucky?
