by Sosie Frost
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.”
“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.”
4
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.”
“Won’t you at least consider it?”
“No.”
This was my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I knew it’d be a mistake, even if it hadn’t felt like anything but the most right, honest, and most perfect thing in the world. For years, I’d hated myself for letting her go. At least in those few seconds pressed against her, I’d found a moment of peace.
“You know the kids would love you, right?” I nudged Tabby with my hand. She babbled and offered Cassi a handful of ground up cereal mixed with a bit of drool.
“Bababa,” Tabby said.
“See?” I took a breath. “Don’t make a baby beg.”
“She’s convincing.” Cassi gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “Where’s Melanie?”
I jerked a thumb behind me, into the house. “Playing with her dolls.”
“Are you sure?”
“That’s what she was doing five minutes ago.”
“…But you don’t know what she’s doing now?”
“There’s no houses for ten miles, so I think I’d notice an UBER pull up.”
Her mouth gaped. “You left her unsupervised in the house?”
“Relax.” I picked up the beer, offered her a sip, and drank the rest when she refused. “I hid my dad’s old magazines. No fires today. She can’t get into any trouble in there.”
Cassi didn’t believe
me. She marched into the house, searched the living room then returned with a scowl. “Sure, she can’t get into any trouble in there.”
“That’s what I said.”
“You’re right. She’s not in there.”
“What?”
She rapped her fingernails on the door. “I don’t see her.”
“She’s tiny. Look down.”
“I am looking down.” She headed into the house. “I’m looking everywhere, Rem. I don’t see her!”
I rolled my eyes and hauled the baby into my arms. “I’m sure she’s playing.”
Cassi ducked into the kitchen, checking the cabinets that weren’t nailed shut. “Seriously. I can’t find her.”
Great. This morning we’d played a rousing game of wake-up-Uncle-Remington-by-jumping-between-his-legs-so-we-never-get-a-cousin. At lunch, Mellie delighted me with her one-act play, I-don’t-want-to-eat-that-I-don’t-like-chicken-even-though-I-ate-it-twice-yesterday. And just before Tabby’s nap, I learned of a new sport, scream-so-the-baby-won’t-sleep.
Now it was hide-and-seek. I couldn’t take much more of this. When did we play my favorite pastime, drink-until-the-whiskey-tastes-good?
“Mellie!” I shouted down the hall. “Get out here.”
“Mellie?” Cassi checked the bedrooms. The cabin wasn’t huge. She scoured the potential closets in less than a minute. “Mellie, where are you?”
Damn it. I shifted Tabby to the other arm and pulled a blanket off the couch. “Mellie, come here so Uncle Rem doesn’t stroke out.”
“Rem, I don’t think she’s here.”
“Of course she’s here. She’s just hiding.”
Cassi extended her arms. “Where?”
Good freaking question. “I wasn’t outside for long.”
“Why is the backdoor open?”
“I was letting the place air out. Started to smell like Clorox scrubbing pads and baby wipes, and no, I didn’t mix them up.”
Cassi hadn’t worried me yet, but that pit of dread bundled in my gut. That fucked-up sense when the tree crashed down the wrong way and the widow branches aimed for whosever head was closest.