“Do I have to?”
He went into the kitchen and found the boxes of pasta he’d given her in the otherwise empty cabinet. At this rate, he was going to have to drag her ass to the grocery store. “Don’t women have to take off their eye makeup before bed?” he reminded her, putting a small pot on the front burner.
“Good point. How do you know that? Oh, right, I forgot. You were married. That was terrible, by the way.”
“It wasn’t exactly a good time for me either,” he murmured.
“If you didn’t want to be with me, you didn’t have to go off and marry my best friend,” Remi said.
He stood there open-mouthed as she shuffled off toward the bathroom.
There was a muffled yelp and a thump followed quickly by an “I’m okay!”
“Are you sure?”
“Is my macaroni done yet?”
He rolled his eyes and turned up the heat on the burner.
She was singing now as water ran in the bathroom. It sounded like she was getting ready to take a shower.
“Psst! Brick!”
He looked up and then immediately glanced away again. She was wrapped up in nothing but a towel. And that towel was only covering one of her two spectacular breasts.
He was a fucking gentleman, damn it. “Uh. What?”
“Can you find me something to sleep in?”
“Can’t you find it yourself? I’m making you a snack.”
“Oh, right! I totally forgot.” She smacked herself in the forehead, laughing. Then stumbled into the bedroom. He listened to drawers opening and closing and a few muttered curses before the telltale sound of her small body hitting the mattress.
He finished the pasta, dished some into a bowl and grabbed a spoon big enough for a drunk to hold. On his way to the bedroom, he stopped by the bathroom to turn off the shower she’d started.
“Remi?” He knocked on the partially closed bedroom door.
It was dark in the room, and she was curled in a ball on top of the covers. At least she’d managed to dress herself. The Mackinac PD hoodie was huge on her and it was on backward, the hood bunched under her chin. He let out a sigh and put the bowl on the nightstand. “Come on, Rem. Get under the covers before you freeze.” He managed to pull back the quilt and sheet and stuff her under them without coming into too much contact with her bare skin.
“Do you want to eat or do you want to sleep?” he asked, smoothing the covers over her.
“Will you turn the lights on?” she asked in a small voice.
“Which ones?”
“All of them.”
He paused. “Are you afraid of the dark, baby?”
“Don’t tell anyone,” she whispered. “I just need to be able to see him coming.”
Him.
“Who, Remi? Who are you afraid of?”
Fuck temporary promises. If there was a man out there who scared her, he wouldn’t rest until the scales were balanced.
“This is why I came back,” she murmured against her pillow.
“Why?”
“You make me feel safe.”
He stood there staring down at her, hands fisted at his sides as a wave of possession knocked into him.
He made her feel safe.
She’d come back to be close to him. That made whatever problem she’d gotten tangled up with his problem. And he was going to solve it as soon as he pried some answers out of her.
He turned on the lamp on the nightstand, then did the same with the overhead light before lighting the fireplace to chase off the chill in the room.
She was sprawled out on her stomach like a starfish under the covers. Unable to help himself, he brushed her hair back from her face and spread it out over the pillow.
She was bewitching. Even drunk and snoring, all that fiery red hair, that smooth ivory skin made her seem so touchable.
This is why I came back.
Her words echoed in his head. He knew he was going to get more involved. Hell. He was involved the second she’d turned the aisle in the grocery store. He was going to do the thing he’d promised himself he’d never do: Get close to Remi Ford.
Because there were no witnesses, and because he desperately fucking needed it, he leaned down and brushed his lips over her furrowed forehead. The lines disappeared, and her expression eased as if he’d taken away her worry with the brush of his mouth.
He was so fucked.
He forced himself to walk out of the bedroom before he did something stupid like climb in next to her and cuddle up against that soft, warm body.
Back in the living space, he turned down the fireplace and shut off a few of the lights. He dumped the rest of the mac and cheese into a container, washed the pot, and put it back in its cabinet. Next, he got the coffeemaker ready to go because a hungover Remi required almost a full pot of caffeine before she was functional again. He fished out one of the rainbow of cereal boxes and put it on the counter next to a bowl and spoon.
He heard an insistent buzzing and found her phone faceup on the table.
Pain in My Ass.
It was late. It might be a friend calling with an emergency. Or it could be a guy calling to “Netflix and freeze” or whatever the kids were calling it now. He debated for two more buzzes before his desire to know more got the best of him, and he swiped to answer the call.
“Yeah?”
There was a brief silence on the other end, and then, “You have got to be kidding me. She got a new number and didn’t freaking tell me? Unbelievable.” It was a man’s voice. An annoyed one. Frankly, if he was dialing Remi’s number and sounding annoyed, Brick couldn’t blame him.
“Who are you looking for?” he asked.
“Alessandra. Well, technically a brat named Remi. I don’t suppose you know her?”
“Remi isn’t…available,” Brick said, choosing his words carefully.
“So this is still her number?”
Seeing as how the guy was in her contacts and had called the number looking for her, Brick felt okay with confirming. “It is. Can I take a message?”
He heard the sound of something like a pen clicking repeatedly on the other end. “Just tell her Raj called and she can’t avoid me forever.”
“Maybe you should take the hint,” Brick suggested dryly.
“Maybe you should take the message, Secretary Boy.”
“Maybe I see why she has you in her phone as Pain in the Ass.”
Inexplicably, this caused Raj to guffaw. “Ah, that ungrateful little twerp,” he said with what sounded like affection. “Tell her I called. Tell her to call me back or at least answer her goddamn emails.”
Raj—whatever kind of name that was—disconnected the call without any of the usual pleasantries, leaving Brick staring down at the phone in his hand. His gaze flicked to the bedroom. It had been a stupid move, answering the call. One a sober Remi would have his balls for.
He needed a game plan. One that had her opening up to him rather than him sneaking around behind her back.