by Sosie Frost
“Rem, I think you need a good spring…summer cleaning,” I said. “Your cobwebs are growing cobwebs.”
“A little mess is healthy.”
“Yeah, but I could grow Jules’ planned allotment of corn in the dirt by the entryway.” I dusted a bit harder, brushing a year’s worth of fuzz and debris from the window sill and wooden planked walls. “Do you need help with this? It’s a big job.”
“I thought you were just delivering some sandwichs.”
Mellie twirled in the golden sparkles drifting through the patch of sun. Then she sneezed.
“Pass me the broom,” I said.
“Now Cassia Payne…” He handed over the broom with a low hum. “If you aren’t here to let me win your heart…you must be avoiding the farm.”
The broom’s stiff bristles scoured the wooden floor. It felt good. I pitched the pillows and cushions from my path and swept my irritation into the dust pan.
“Jules was out of line yesterday,” I said. “He shouldn’t have said those things to you.”
Rem shrugged. Did the rest of him ripple too? How much muscle had this lumberjack packed on while away in the woods?
“He wasn’t wrong.”
I could still be embarrassed for my brother. “It wasn’t right to say it. And he knows it. He’d apologize—”
“Jules will never apologize. And that’s fine. I’m not looking to earn any respect. I’m only in town to watch the kids.”
Nothing had ever sounded so bizarre from Rem. When he’d left, he was a bastard. A heartless man who I couldn’t believe had hurt my family so badly.
Now?
He’d returned from across the continent to take care of his nieces.
What had happened to him out in the wilderness?
“Jules took Dad’s death hard…” I stopped. That wasn’t right. “Everyone took Dad’s death hard. Jules especially, since he’s the executor of the estate. Marius is guilty because he was overseas when it’d happened. Tidus has all these issues now—he’d said some really terrible things to Dad before he died. Hadn’t even come home for three years. Varius…well, after he lost his faith, he lost interest in everything. Hasn’t been the same since he quit the ministry. And Quint is trying to keep it together, but he hates it here the most.”
Rem offered me a beer. I declined, but he popped off two caps anyway. “And now that the perfect storm of Payne is all gathered in one farmhouse?”
“It’s chaos. They’re fighting. Constantly. All of them. Jules and Quint. Tidus and Dad’s ghost. Varius and everyone. Marius hasn’t even called from Afganikoreapakiindonesiastan or wherever his classified post is now. Quint is just making it worse for the fun of it. Every day someone is screaming or punching a wall. It’s not right.” I stabbed the floor with the broom. “We’re supposed to be mourning.”
“What about you? How are you doing?”
A lot of people had asked me that. Rem’s question felt like the only one that wasn’t a platitude, and I hated how it twisted inside me.
“I’m done.” I punctuated the words with a sweep out the door and onto the porch. Mellie followed, brushing her own pile of invisible dirt with a magazine. “I spent last year taking care of Dad. I lived at home, gave up a teaching opportunity in Ironfield. But I had to do it. He was practically bed bound by the end, legs too swollen to walk or do much. And where were my brothers?” I extended my arms. “Nowhere to be seen. None of them could deal with what was happening to Dad. After Mom died, and after the fighting started, none of them could stand to be in the same room with each other. Everything went to hell.”
That wasn’t the truth. The stress and fighting had started before Mom died—when we lost the barn, the season’s stored hay, and two cows. But Rem probably knew that. It’d been his fault.
I plucked the Maxim out of Mellie’s hands and offered her the broom instead. Rem had the decency to look shamed, but I thwapped it over his head.
“You know, you really ought to babyproof this place,” I said.
“What needs to be babyproofed?”
I pointed to the outlets, including the unfinished one near the bathroom. “Oh, I don’t know. Those fixtures.”
“Do babies really poke things into the outlets? Sounds like an urban legend.”
“Not sure you want to rail against helicopter parenting on the issue of electrocution.”
He reluctantly nodded. “Fine. Electrical sockets. I’ll take care of it.”
“And the cabinets.”
“What about them?”
To illustrate my point, Mellie dove inside the cabinet under the sink, crawled all the way back, and returned to deliver her uncle a present that was either the world’s largest clump of hair or a mummified mouse. He frowned, pitched it outside, and set her on the counter to wash her hands.
“Cabinets.” He agreed. “I’ll nail ‘em shut. What else?”
“I…don’t know.” I grabbed a toddling Tabby to give her a squeeze. She clapped, squealed, and tooted in delight. “I mean, there’s a million and one things they can get into up here. What about the big outlay building outside?”
“The woodshop?” Rem shook his head. “Nah. Millie and I went over that. That’s off-limits.”
“Is it locked?”
“Think it should be locked?”
“What’s inside?”
“Woodworking stuff. Saws. Power tools. Hammers. Nails.” He winked. “Balloons. Slides. Stuffed animals. A waterfall of chocolate.”
“Lock it,” I said. “Trust me. Keep everything sharp over there. These girls are going to be a handful. They’ll need constant supervision. You’ll have to make sure they’re on a schedule. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, bath time, bed time. Are you sure you’re up to this?”
His expression said no, but I’d never known Remington Marshall to admit defeat. “Look, Mary Poppins, if you’re so worried…why don’t you grab your magic umbrella and stay up here?”
I crinkled my nose. “What?”
“Want a job?”
“Doing what?”
“Be their nanny.”
Never knew Rem to have such a sense of humor. I retrieved the broom and stepped over Mellie as she made dust-angels in the foyer.
“Okay,” I said. “I charge twenty dollars an hour, and I want benefits.”
“Done.”
“Did I say twenty? I meant fifty.”
Rem didn’t blink. “Whatever you want. Name your price.”
“You’re not serious.”
“You said this place is a death trap. And, apparently, I’m unprepared for the responsibility of keeping two kids alive. I agree. When do you want to start?”
“I’m not…” I tapped my nails on the broomstick. “No. I’m not going to be a nanny. I’m leaving, remember? Friend in Ironfield. Looking for a job in the city.”
“Doing what?”
Damn it. “…Early childhood education.”
He poked at Tabby, earning a slobbery smile. “Well, look at that. I happen to have an early child right here. And the other one could probably use some education too before she’s adopted into a dust mite society.”
“I’m not…I can’t be a nanny.”
“You know kids. You know what to do for kids. And you like these kids.”
He thrust Tabby at me, revealing one pudgy little tummy as her shirt rode up. I gave her a tickle, utilizing my sixty-thousand-dollar education to become an expert in giggles.
“You need the money, don’t you?” he asked.
I grumbled. “I do.”
“So?”
Out of the question. “Absolutely not.”
He lowered Tabby to the ground and offered her a plastic bowl of Cheerios. The cereal immediately spilled, but the bowl made an excellent drum. The baby was content, and he set his sights on me.
“Give me one good reason you’ll say no,” he said.
I’d give him the best one. “We’re not even going to talk about the kisses?”
Wrong reason.
Rem’s voice lowered, a dark and caramel growl that layered me with regret and shivers and memories.
“Must have been some good kisses if you remember them after all this time,” he said.
I didn’t look at his lips. “You mean you forgot?”
“I made myself forget.”
“Why?”
“Because thinking of that night when you were almost mine is the reason I had to put three thousand miles of uncut wilderness and five years between us.”
In the past twenty-four hours, this man had made my heart ache so much I considered popping some of Dad’s leftover beta-blockers. I wasn’t about to let Rem twist me up any more.
“No one asked you to leave,” I said. “No one told you to go. It’s not heroic, Rem. It just hurts.”
“Good thing I’m a changed man.”
I’d never wanted him to change, only to be honest. “How can I trust you?”
“I’ll prove it. I got the kids. I got the bank account. The cabin. The responsibility. I’m different.”
“You’re still chasing me.”
His hound-dog grin should have run me up a tree. “Can’t blame a man for trying. It’s lonely in these woods. Gets real dark and cold at night. I’m looking for someone to warm me up.”
“And that’s why the answer is no. We have a history.”
“Do we?”
The sadness kicked me in the gut. “We might have had a history.”
“Do you think there’s still a chance?”
“How could there be, after all that happened?”
He surprised me with a wink. “Then what’s the problem? Are you attracted to me?”
“No,” I lied.
“Then work for me.”
“I can’t.”
He smoothed that beard. Easier to see his smile. Harder to resist wondering how it’d feel scratching all over me. “What if I show you that this could be perfectly platonic?”
“How?”
“Kiss me.”
I poked him away with the broom. “And what would that prove?”
“That there’s nothing between us.”
“That’s like leaving my credit card in the street to prove there are no thieves around.”
“Not trying to steal anything from you, Sassy.”
That’s because there was only one thing left to give him, and I’d mercifully avoided that roll in the hay. “You’re out of your mind.”
“One kiss,” he said. “We’ll settle it once and for all.”
I focused on cleaning as I scrubbed my way into the kitchen, hoping my hips didn’t sashay with every brush. He watched, his gaze practically boiling over my skin.
“Why not?” Rem asked.
I didn’t have to lie. “Because it took me five years to get over our last kiss, and I can’t spend the next five forgetting this one.”
“One kiss.” He edged too close for me to breathe, think, or defend my honor. “One little, teensy, tiny nibble of a kiss. I promise—I won’t even make it a good one.”
“Is that possible?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never kissed badly before.”
“Then I can’t afford the risk.”
“For all we know, every kiss of mine becomes a five-year memory.” He towered over me, leaning in, his whisper playful and tempting. “And that’s just the kiss. Imagine what I could do with a touch. A lick. One night with me, and you might never forget it.”
“Or forgive it.”
“Good thing I’m only asking for a kiss.” He bumped my chin up with his fingers. “One kiss.”
“To prove there’s nothing between us…or to torture us for the rest of our lives?”
“You tell me, Sassy.”
He leaned in, capturing my lips with a playful, deliberate swipe. I gripped the broom, heart raging, pounding, attempting to crash through my chest and knock my head back into sanity.
Heat swirled between us, suffocating me in that woodsy, fresh-cut pine scent. Earthy and tempting and so much more than he was before. Everything was more. His words meant more. His eyes saw more. His touch offered more.
And his kiss…
Conquered and overwhelmed. My body pooled into softness. A murmur accidentally parted my lips. His tongue swept in. Gentle. Teasing. Wonderful.
His kiss was every perfect moment I’d imagined in the last five years. Every flirty nibble. Every sensual bite. Every casual, quick peck people took for granted.
In five seconds, he’d revealed everything he might have offered in those lost five years.
And I hated him for it.
And I was grateful for it.
And I melted for it.
Rem pulled away, rubbing a hand through the tickling beard trimmed to his jaw. His eyebrows rose.
“So?”
From behind us, Mellie expressed her displeasure with a drum solo on Tabby’s bowl.
“Ew kissing!”
This was not an ew.
This was great. And wonderful.
And the perfect reason to run away as fast as my now jelly-like legs could move.
“I won’t be the nanny,” I said.
Rem didn’t believe me. “Come on, Cas. I was just having some fun.”
I handed him the broom, tapped the sandwiches, waved to the kids, and hurried to the door before I melted into a puddle of wistful remorse.
“Good luck, Rem,” I said. “I’ve got to go home and pack. I’m leaving for Ironfield as soon as I can.”
He followed me to the door, leaning against the frame as I stumbled over the cobblestones to my car. His voice was a mockingly cruel and lovely tease.
“Was the kiss that bad?”
“No…”
I regretted turning, but I needed that one last look.
How many more times would be the last time I ever saw him?
“No, Rem. That kiss was too good.”
Chapter Four
Remington
Cassi’s car skidded to a stop in front of my cabin.
She leapt out. Slammed the door. Shouted my name.
“Remington Marshall! Get out here!”
Cassi always did have a temper on her. Her pout could drop a man to his knees. That little cock of her hip was a quick and dire warning to behave. And that eyebrow. That was the worst. As soon as her fingertip traced over that mischievous arch, even the bravest soul knew to surrender.
So, I always used to try to piss her off.
Who wouldn’t risk a good tongue-lashing from a beautiful girl like her?
I’d toss a water balloon in her window at night. A firecracker at her feet on the way to school. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d let the goats loose just before she had to feed them. Hard to chase a herd of hungry, garbage eating monsters when she was locked in the chicken coup.
When we were young, I’d fucked with her in every way but the best one. Why would I miss a chance to screw with her now?
“Hey, Sassy.” I reclined on the porch swing and crossed my legs on the railing. “Couldn’t resist the chance to see me again, huh?”
She stomped up the porch stairs. “Rem, I swear to God…”
Tabby gummed on Barbie and waved with four chubby fingers.
Cassi caught herself mid-profanity. “What in the…Harry Potter is this?”
The envelope smacked against the railing with a thud. The flap opened, revealing a stack of green as bright as the trees I’d chopped to earn it.
“That’s your advance, Cas.”
Worth it to watch her squirm. And money well spent to get that fabulous ass back to the cabin.
The two days we’d spent apart had lasted a goddamned eternity. Felt longer than the five years I’d gone without her. It wasn’t just her eyes, her voice, the sexy way she’d mewed when I’d finally taken the kiss that had been owed to me for half a decade. I’d spent so long dreaming of this woman that when I finally had her in my arms again, it seemed like yet another fantasy.
I had to see her
again.
Her hand settled on her hip, and what a hip it was. The pair of tiny shorts covered her booty, but they were skin tight. She was a tiny, five-foot thing, but her pint-sized legs reached to her chin. Dark. Smooth. Just begging for a hand to run along that perfect skin.
She spat the word. “My advance?”
“Yeah.” I sipped a beer and pawed through the half dozen rocks, toys, and wood chips Tabby had placed in my lap. I found the coaster and set my bottle on the handmade bench beside me. “I thought you could use it. Get something pretty for yourself and some supplies for the kids.”
A wagging finger. Good sign. “What supplies for the kids?”
“Whatever you want. Finger paints or tricycles. More diapers. Do you know how many diapers this kid goes through in a day?”
She bit her lip. Now she was really cooking. “Are you even listening to yourself?”
“Yeah, you’re right. They’re too young for paints. Maybe get them some crayons. Oh, and one of those puffy plastic baby books. Tabby loves to gnaw on them.”
All one hundred and twenty pounds of Cassi bumbled onto my steps, seething with frustration, rage, and, presumably, an unquenchable lust that made her quite irritable.
“I told you.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to be their nanny.”
“And I decided I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“You’d be perfect for this job.”
It wasn’t just a tease. Goddamn it, I needed her help. She’d panicked me into believing the entire cabin was a death trap. Exposed outlets. Cabinets with cleaning products. Wobbly railings. I’d been so fucking terrified, I nearly slept in the truck with the kids buckled up tight in their car seats.
“I’m sure you could handle them yourself,” she said.
I couldn’t.
“Who wouldn’t want an expert around to show them the ropes?” I shrugged. “I also have handcuffs if you prefer. Blindfolds…”
“Rem.”
“Cassi.”
She crossed her arms. “Look, if you’re worried, there’s a big ol’ woods behind you. I’m sure there’s a pack of wolves that can show you how to raise a kid.”