“You were his family,” Pete corrects as he steps closer to me. “He’s ours now. And this is the last time we will ask you to leave. Next time we see you here unwelcomed, we’ll get the authorities involved.”
The man looks at me, and it feels so strange, eyes so much like Remy’s glaring at me with such cold contempt instead of tender heat. “You have to have some silly head on you to let my son get you like that,” he tells me, pointing at my stomach.
Suddenly I’m drawn back into a muscled wall. My breath tangles in my throat when a huge hand opens protectively over my midsection, and the sound of Remington’s voice from over the top of my head sends all the little hairs in my arms standing.
“Come near her or anything of mine again, and I’ll show you in a heartbeat how dangerous I am,” he says in a dead flat tone, all the more predatory for its quietness.
The volatile energy emanating from his large frame makes my pulse accelerate in anticipation of his parents’ reply. Neither of them seems capable of holding Remington’s stare too long. Lips pursed tight, the man grabs his wife and drags her down the walkway toward the small car at the curb.
My limbs are shaking, most of my weight resting back against Remy when he clenches my hips and tightly murmurs, “Get in.”
We go inside.
Remington grabs a water bottle from the kitchen and drinks it all down quickly. He’s still in his workout gear, his muscles glistening. He shakes his wet hair then he drops down on one of the living room couches and sends the empty bottle spinning on the floor, angrily watching it twirl. His elbows rest on his knees, his broad shoulders hard and tense, and his dark head is bent as he stares at nothing but that spinning bottle. Round and round it goes.
“I don’t think your parents like your choice of woman, Rem,” Riley speaks first. He’s trying to make light of what just happened, but nobody laughs. The tension in the air is so thick you’d have to hack at it with an axe.
Remington lifts his head and pins me down with violently tender blue eyes. “They ever come near you, I’m the first to know. Do you hear me, firecracker?”
The fierce protectiveness in his gaze makes an equally protective feeling wrap tightly around my gut. “They weren’t looking for me, they were looking for you.”
“I don’t want them near you. I don’t want them near our children,” he angrily says. My heart wrings in my chest; did he say “children,” in plural? I want to smile and hug him for this, but the look in his eyes is almost . . . raw with pain.
“Are you done?” I ask lightheartedly, signaling outside, to where he was working out.
He nods slowly, his face tight as he watches me head over to him.
He’s brooding, his anger palpable in the air. He wears a strange expression, as if he’s trying to pull himself together. He keeps clenching and unclenching his jaw. I hate that he had to come face-to-face with his parents, but time and again, he’s proven that he’ll do anything to protect me.
My head feels both bruised and swollen as I drop down at his side and take his arm, seizing his thick wrist and starting to work on it. “I can’t believe two assholes like them created something as wonderful as you,” I whisper softly.
Pete quietly goes into the kitchen and Riley heads out to the lawn to help Coach clean up.
Their footsteps fade, and everything around us feels muted as Remington looks at me. His voice carries that calm, deadly quiet it does when he’s getting extremely busy battling something within himself. “They’re right, little firecracker.”
I feel like I’ve been struck with a baseball bat right in my chest.
Inhaling a slow breath, he looks at me fiercely. “Brooke, I wouldn’t wish a father like me on Scorpion’s offspring, much less my own kid.”
No. Not a baseball bat. I think I’ve just been slammed into by a train. Pain streaks through me, and my hands fall from his arm. “Please don’t say this. Please don’t think anything other than that you’ll be the best father.”
He clamps his jaw, and I can tell he softens his voice for my sake. “It could be like me.”
“How like you?” I fiercely counter, clutching my stomach. “Beautiful, inside and out? With more willpower than anyone I’ve ever known. Herculean, generous, kind—”
He looks so tormented, I seize his jaw and force him to look at me. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re human, Remy, and real, and I wouldn’t have you any other way. We want this. We want a family together. We deserve it—just like anybody else.”