“Remi, I know you’re upset. But, what about your work? Your practice? Your friends?”
“Wilde Law is in good hands. Maybe even better than it was with me. And my friends aren’t going anywhere. In fact, one of them even came all the way here to find me.” He smiles with a carelessness I’m not sure he really feels.
“I don’t think anyone feels like things are better with you gone. Regan is worried.”
“Fine, I’ll call Regan and Tyson. But what I’ve got to say needs to be said in person.”
“Great, then let’s head back to Houston, get you back in the saddle.”
He stands up without any warning. “Come on.” He claps his hands together and heads toward the door.
I watch the spectacular sight of his retreating back, admiring the way his muscles ripple with each step for a minute before I follow him inside.
“Where are we going?” When I get to the bedroom, I find him slipping into a pair of briefs.
“For a run. It’ll be great, I’ll show you the property and take you around town.”
“I thought you said town was three miles away.”
“It is.” He pulls on a T-shirt and opens the drawer of his dresser and pulls out a pair of sweats.
“I can’t run six miles, Remi.” Each step of two miles I do each day feels like torture.
“Of course you can. You never know what you’re capable of until you try. Get dressed.”
“I’ll just wait for you to come back,” I say and flop onto the bed.
“Oh, no you won’t.” He grabs me by the arms and pulls me up to standing.
“Yes. I will. I’ll die before we get there.” I flail dramatically and he laughs.
“It’ll feel great and if you get tired, I promise I’ll carry you back home via piggyback.” He reaches into my luggage and rummages around until he finds my sneakers. He peeks inside. “Still a size seven,” he says before he hands them to me.
“How do you remember my shoe size?” I ask and take them grudgingly from him.
“You left those shoes in the hallway of my parent’s house thirteen years ago.”
I cover my mouth with my hand and stare at him wide-eyed. “Has it really been that long?”
“Yeah. It has. And I’ll never ever be able to say sorry in a way that truly conveys just how shitty I feel about that night.” His eyes are soft, full of regret and they search mine as if he’s expecting to see the same thing reflected in them.
But it’s not. Not even a little.
“Remi, that night was humiliating, hurtful, and I wish it had never happened. I know if you had to do it again, you would do things differently. But I stopped asking what if a long time ago. Everything happens for a reason. We might not be here, now, if it hadn’t.” I grab hold of his hands.
“I guess.” He sounds unconvinced and he breaks eyes contact.
I drop his hands so I can cup his precious face and he looks at me again.
“Bianca is reason enough for me to know why I went through that. She’s a special kid. I was meant to be her mom. Paul was meant to be her dad.” I gentle my voice when I say those words, but he flinches anyway.
“She helped me find the courage to live a life that wasn’t a lie. And that’s what, in the end, brought us back together. Like you said, we had to walk that walk, right?”
“I guess. And you’re right about asking what if, I just hate that I hurt you, Kal. You. Of all people. I’m not sure that I’ll ever forgive myself.” The pain in his voice tears at me and I wish I could take it away.
“All’s well that ends well. I have a feeling that we’re going to end well…” I press a kiss to his mouth and he grips my side and dips his tongue between my lips.
“I love that little freckle on the top, it kills me.” He flicks my lip with his tongue and presses soft, small kisses to it.
His touch, light and fleeting as it is, makes me giddy. I rise up on my toes and slip my arms around his neck. “Well, why don’t we skip that run and kiss the calories away?”
He pulls my arms down and grins. “I’d almost forgotten. Thanks for the reminder.”
“Me and my big mouth,” I grumble.
He frowns at me in exaggerated reproach. “Hey, I happen to like that mouth, watch how you talk about it.” He slaps my ass before he strolls out of the room and calls over his shoulder.
“Hurry up, we’ll need to stretch and warm up before we head out.”
Chapter 29
TIME
REMI
* * *
“You okay?”
My question is met with a wheezing sound that sounds like a groan, but I think is actually a “fuck you.”
Kal’s been cursing me out for the last mile and a half. The return trip has really highlighted the slopes in the terrain, we’ve run uphill for most of the journey that leads to the house.
“Want me to carry you?”
She comes to a dead stop and bends over, hands on her knees and squints up at me. Her face is red and her hair, soaked with sweat, sticks to her face. She pants as she peers up at me, and she looks pissed.
“Is that a yes?”
She stands, hands at her waist and grimaces. “That’s an it’s about fucking time you asked, you sadist,” she says and I let out a loud bark of laughter.
“You could have told me to pick you up any time.”
“You should have offered the first time I said I thought I was going to throw up.”
“You don’t ask, you don’t get. Hop on.” I turn around so my back is facing her and bend my knees.
She puts her hands on my shoulder, and I hook my arms around her thighs and hoist her up.
She lets her entire weight rest on me, her head lolls on my shoulder. “Thank God you’re built like a gladiator, I don’t think I could have made it ten more steps.”
“Good thing you’re not built like a gladiator or you would have had to lie there until you caught your second wind.”
“Mmmm… whatever. I’m going to take a nap.” She drapes her arms around my neck and sighs. I savor her weight. The sweet smell of her sweat, the thud of her heart against my back, the heat of her pussy pressed to my back.
“So, this job, it’s as an investigative journalist?” She stiffens, lifts her head slightly. And then, she relaxes again and lays it back down.
“Yeah, it’s actually a television show. I’m sort of auditioning for a job. When I’m done with the assignment, I’ll know whether I get the permanent role that there’s only one of.”
“So you’re in a competition with someone else for it?”
“Yeah. His name is Slugman.”
“That’s his real name?” I chuckle.
“Yeah. Honestly, he’s not so bad. I just hate him because he’s ten years younger than me, probably smarter and more tech-savvy than I am.”
“So, you think the youngin’s got the leg up?”
“He might… but our editor, who would be our boss, likes me best.”
“So if you don’t get it then what?”
“Not getting it would be disastrous. I was out of work for so long. I tried to find a job in a male-dominated business obsessed with youth. That I even have a shot at this is a miracle.”
“What will you do if you don’t get it? Because that’s a possibility, right?”
“Bite your tongue and take that back.” She stiffens.
“I’m not saying you won’t. I believe in you. I’m sure you’ll bring back the makings for a great story and get the job. But I’m not making the decision and neither are you. So, we can’t be sure how it’ll go. You need to think about what you’ll do.”
She’s silent for a few minutes and then she says, “I don’t know, Remi.”
“Dig deep, Will. Rewrite your happy ending. One that doesn’t include this job.”
She’s quiet. But it’s not an uncomfortable silence. I can practically hear the slightly rusty wheels of her imagination turning.
“I’d get a regular, non-j
ournalist job and spend my nights writing my book.”
“You want to write a book?”
“Yeah, I do. My book of Legends… I want to try and get it published.”
“Do you still have it?” I ask, a fond smile on my face as I remember the notebook that brought us together.
“Of course, I do. It’s in New York.”
“Good. So you have a good start. You have your book, next worst-case scenario.”
“Why can’t we do best-case scenarios instead?”
“Because you already know what that looks like. Best-case scenarios are always what we hope for or secretly expect. When we plan we need to think about—”
“What could go wrong.” She finishes for me. Just like old times.
“Exactly. So… what would you do if no one buys it?”
“Keep working my regular job and write for pleasure.”
“You give up easy, Kal.”
“No, I don’t. But I have bills to pay. I need that nine-to-five,” she protests.
“But why couldn’t writing pay the bills, too?”
“Because that’s not up to me. If I don’t have a publisher, I don’t have a way to get it out there.”
“So you give up?”
“How about you stop acting like I’m some sort of quitter.”
“Why are you irritated with me? How about you stop treating your dream like it’s up to someone else to make it come true? If you want it, take it.”
“That’s not true, Remi,” she protests.
“Why isn’t it true?” I push back.
“Because,” she says like she can’t believe she has to explain it to me.
“Because what? Tell me, in your own words, why you can’t do it,” I challenge.
“Don’t say it like I gave up on it.” She sounds defensive.
“If you didn’t, who did?”
I hoist her higher and turn up the last curve to the house.
“You can’t let one setback stop you.”
“Oh, you mean like you’re doing?” she mutters.
It’s my turn to stiffen. I stop walking and slide her off my back. I turn around to face her.
“What? You don’t like the taste of your own medicine?” she asks, a smug smile on her face.
“They’re not the same thing,” I say slowly. I’m annoyed at the comparison she just made.
“How are they different? You’re out here hiding. I’m working a job I don’t love but need.”
“You’re fucking talented. If you didn’t find a publisher who was interested. That would be a setback. Meaning, it’s one closed door. Others will open.”
“If you believe that, then why are you out here, hiding?”
That comment slides right under my skin and I bristle.
“I’m not fucking hiding. And unlike you, I didn’t suffer “a setback”. My entire life shifted, fundamentally. Everything I thought about myself, my life, my family—very little of it is true.”
Regret mars her pretty face and she walks toward me.
“Oh, babe. I’m so sorry. I know.” She wraps an arm around my waist. I relax as soon as her body touches mine, and I hug her back.
“I have to reconcile that I lived with people who lied to me constantly and profoundly and that I never even had a clue. I feel like an idiot. Because now, when I think back on it, I would never have guessed any of this. Even when I think about all of the signs.”
“Signs? Like what?” She leans back and eyes me skeptically.
“My mother… I have these two versions of my father that are at war with each other in the part of my mind where I keep him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, in public, she talked about him like he was a god. A bright light that had been snuffed out much too soon. But privately, the way she spoke of him was lukewarm at best. And when she let the curtain slip, and her grief was on full display, I thought she really hated him.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. It was usually around his birthday or their anniversary. It was like a cloud descended over our house. And we all lived with the weight of what felt more like rage than grief. She would drink and then cry hysterically, sometimes all night long. She would look at me—the darker skinned, darker-haired version of him—and sneer when she told me, I was just like him. She’d never say how, but I knew it wasn’t anything good. I think she hates me, too.” My laugh is brittle and devoid of humor.
“Oh, Remi. She couldn’t.” I hate the pity in her eyes. Loathe it. But, it’s just nice that she gives a shit.
I loop an arm around her neck and bend down to kiss her.
“So yeah, I’m Remington Wilde. The Legend. But can a man just fucking wallow?” I stare down at her, my eyes serious as I let her absorb the weight of everything I just laid on her.
She smiles up at me, that soft understanding tempered with some regret.
“If you’re happy here. You should stay as long as you need to.”
“I’m fucking happy. And now, you’re here.” I bump the end of her nose with mine.
“I can’t stay,” she says quietly.
I knew it was coming, I had hoped to have more than a couple of days. I contemplate what’s waiting for me in Houston and my gut clenches.
“I’m sorry, Remi. So sorry. But, my job. I need to get back to Houston so I can figure out my story.” She looks up at me appealingly and I make up my mind.
I cup her cheek, kiss her quickly and then I pull back. “Okay. But before we go back, I want to cook you dinner.”
She wrinkles her nose. “You’re going to cook?”
“Why not? I’m—”
She squeaks and grips my forearms. “Wait! Did you say we’ll go back?”
“Yeah. We’ll go back. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” The knot in my stomach doesn’t fist so tight when I add that.
She grins and then launches herself into my arms. “Oh my God. Are you sure?”
I laugh and set her back down with a nod. “I’m sure. I need to go and talk to my siblings anyway.”
“Remi, I don’t want you to leave before you’re ready. This morning you loved it here.” She frowns slightly.
“I do. But I’ve hit nothing but dead ends. Besides, I can’t have that young buck Rivers getting comfortable with the biggest lion in the jungle.”
“Well, good.” She claps. “We should drive through town tomorrow. One more time, just to make sure. I mean, I’m a trained investigator. I could ask questions.”
“I know I don’t have your training, but I’ve talked to everyone.”
“Let’s stop anyway. On our way back to Houston. With a pro at your side?”
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have someone offer to do anything for me.
I’m not alone anymore.
She’s back. “Okay. If it’ll make you feel better. Even though, I could probably teach you a thing or two about investigations.”
“Good lord, you are incorrigible.”
I wink and turn around. I jerk a thumb at my back. “Climb on.”
She hops on; I hitch her up higher and start running.
“Remi, come on don’t try to show off and end up collapsing before we get home,” she yells into the wind, and I pick up my pace.
“I see you’ve got jokes. Hold on. I’ve been running this hill every day and I can do it four times at top speed without breaking a sweat. I’m in the best shape of my life. You just hang on and keep those tits and that hot pussy pressed to my back and I’ll get us home.”
She tightens her grip, laughs and says, “Giddyup, stud. Take me home.”
Chapter 30
GROWN
REMI
* * *
“That was delicious,” Kal says and snuggles against my shoulder. We took a blanket out to my truck and ate in the flatbed. I wanted to give her one more night under the stars before we head back to Houston.
“I’m glad I was able to use up most of the food in the house.
” I shift the small basket to my left hand and take a hold of her hand.
“Are you sure you’re ready to go back? I’ll come back next weekend if you want to stay.” She links our fingers and steps into my side. I wish I could bottle the contentment I’m feeling right now and take a sip whenever I needed it.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I press a kiss to her mouth, we get up to the porch, I put the basket down and sit us down in the chair I keep there.
I tug on the slick straight fall of hair hanging from her ponytail. “I like your hair.”
“I like yours.” She reaches out to run her fingers through it.
“I’ll need to cut it when I get back to town.”
“Why? It’s not too long. I like it.”
“I’m glad you like it, but it’s got to go.”
“Why?”
I contemplate her question for a minute. “When I came out here, I wanted to see what it felt like to not be Remington Wilde.”
“Okay… how’s the experiment going? I mean, besides achieving the werewolf look, what are your other major takeaways?”
“You’re such a shit talker, Kal. And my takeaways are that despite the obvious downsides—being related to my mother being the greatest of these—I like being Remington Wilde very much. He’s a good man. He does important work. He loves his family, and he’s only an asshole to people who deserve it.”
“Don’t forget best lover in the world,” she says as she holds my hand tracing a pattern over it.
“That goes without saying.” I shoot her a quick eye roll before I look back to the road.
My father spent his last days here. I’ve felt a sense of peace in the last few months that I’m not sure I’ve ever known. I feel the tug of regret as I think how much I’ll miss it here. But this isn’t my place either. Just like basketball wasn’t my place. I know where I belong, and that’s in that shark tank, leading and making a fucking difference.
I look at our hands and she’s still tracing the pattern. I pause and pay attention and realize she’s spelling something.
The Rivals Page 56