by Aly Martinez
“You have got to stop seducing me,” I rasped.
“You’re right. I never should have asked you to pass the shampoo. How very thoughtless and manipulative of me.”
Barely finding the energy to grin, I eased out of her and stood up straight.
She turned into me, bringing her arms up between us to cuddle against my front, edging me out of the stream of hot water altogether.
“Is it going to set you ablaze again if I ask for the loofa?”
“Possibly. Though my cock is going to need an ICU bed if we try that again.”
She smiled and a tidal wave of pure sated happiness hit my chest.
It was something so simple for most people. But in my world, smiles were not a given any more than waking up next to the same woman I’d fallen asleep beside. And when it had come to Sally, convincing her that life was worth waking up for in general had been a constant struggle.
Eventually, I’d annoy Remi. She’d annoy me. We’d bicker and argue. Hell, we might not even talk for a few days while emotions calmed. We were human. Bad days were a given.
But not having to spend the bad days in a state of paralyzed terror, unsure if the good ones existed anymore, was a dream I never knew I could have again.
Yet there I stood with Remi’s blue eyes locked with mine. Her hair wet and her lips swollen. A smile that could ease even the most tormented soul aimed up at me. With that, the bad days didn’t just seem bearable. I was fucking eager for the innate monotony of something so blissfully normal.
She was happy, serenely so.
And I was falling in love with the possibility that my current reality was far better than the haunting and hypothetical what-could-have-beens of the past.
Lowering my head, I sealed my mouth over hers in a languid kiss.
“Mmm,” she hummed. Looping her arms around my neck, she leaned away, her life-altering smile never fading. “You should know that I spent way too much time in the hospital to go back. So, if you put the moves on me again, I will be waiting until your cock gets out of the ICU before paying it another visit.”
I released her instantly. “Whoa. No need to talk crazy. Let me get some soap and hot water and I’ll get out to make breakfast.”
She squeezed a dollop of bodywash into my hand. “Oh, please. With that last little stunt of yours, we’re too late for breakfast even by my standards.”
“Your confidence in me is insulting.” I did the world’s fastest lather-and-rinse routine and then slapped her on the ass—not hard enough to leave a mark, but definitely enough to cause my cock to stir back to life.
Fuck. I could not get enough of the woman.
While she finished up in the bathroom, I let the dogs out of the guest room. I didn’t think they were as fond of having her over as I was, but with a little time, I had no doubt she’d come around to loving them. I gave it a few weeks before she would be cuddling with Sugar on the couch, maybe a month for Clyde.
I was still getting dressed when I heard the shower turn off. It was safer for both of us if I tied my tie and fastened my cuff links in the kitchen and not in a room with a bed where I ran the risk of her dropping her towel.
By the time she finally emerged from my room, she was wearing a sophisticated little black dress that clung to her every curve and a pair of red sky-high heels. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, the curls still slightly damp, and her makeup was minimal but no less drop-dead sexy.
I let out a low whistle. “Jesus, woman. You look incredible. Please tell me your closing this morning is with two ogres and a blind man.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Do I sense a hint of jealousy?”
I prowled toward her, sliding my palms up her sides, not stopping as my thumbs brushed the curve of her breasts. “I’m jealous of anyone who gets to spend the morning with you. Ogre or not.”
She grabbed both of my wrists and forced my arms back to my sides. “Oh, no. You are not starting that again, Mister Suave. No touching. Some people actually have to get to work.” She sniffed the air. “Speaking of, what happened to breakfast?”
Reluctantly, though necessary, I dragged two bowls toward us on the bar. “No time to cook, but I made travel mugs of coffee and”—I turned, grabbing the box from the cabinet and then placing it on the counter in front of her—“homemade, from scratch, breakfast of successful and productive adults everywhere.”
She drew in a sharp breath, her mouth stretching into a bright white smile that I swear warmed the entire room.
Fuck me, the woman was going to be the end of me and I was an all-too-willing victim.
“Frosted Flakes are my favorite!” She picked up the box and turned it in her hands. “I pegged you all wrong, Michaels. I figured, with two Splendas in your coffee and a set of abs that won’t quit, you’d be a Raisin Bran kind of guy.”
My mouth fell open in feigned injury as I reached back into the cabinet. “I’m offended.” I pulled down a box of Raisin Bran and dropped it onto the counter with a loud thud. “And also thoroughly impressed.”
“I knew it!”
While she dissolved into a fit of laughter, I opened the brand-new box of Frosted Flakes and filled her bowl. “You knew nothing. So what, I like to eat healthy during the week so I can keep up with a certain ravenous woman but then also treat myself with roughly a pound of sugar per bowl on the weekend. What of it?”
She laughed again as I poured in the milk and then slid breakfast her way. “I better be that certain ravenous woman.”
“Look who’s jealous now,” I teased, propping my hip against the counter.
She took a bite and chewed, and I stood there, eagerly awaiting her snappy reply.
“It’s me. I’m jealous. I’m not sure my heart is up for sharing you.”
“Then don’t,” I stated matter-of-factly, all the while trying to play it cool. The idea of sharing her was enough to set fire to my veins. “I sure as hell don’t want anyone else.”
Her cheeks pinked and she raked her teeth over her bottom lip. “Me either.”
I curled my hand around the back of her neck and tipped her head. She beamed up at me, and fuck, she owned me. “Then that’s settled. Nobody else exists.”
“That easy, huh? Every other woman in the world just suddenly disappeared?”
I dipped down, brushing my nose with hers, her exhales filling my lungs with more life than I’d felt in God only knew how long. “There are two types of people in the world, Remi. There are a million somebodies on this planet. But there’s a huge difference between somebody and someone. From the moment we met, I knew you, my beautiful, crazy woman, were definitely someone. And if there is even a fraction of a chance that you think I’m a someone too, then yeah, it’s exactly that easy. To hell with the rest of the women in the world. I want you.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes, and she circled her arms around my hips, hugging me tight. “Of course I think you’re someone. If you want the truth, a part of me thinks you’re the only one. But isn’t this all too fast? You’ve been through so much and—”
“Period,” I stated.
Her brows sank together, confusion contorting her beautiful face. “What?”
“You said I’ve been through so much. That should be the end of the statement. No and or continuation of thought. No one knows better than me that the last few months—hell, years—haven’t been the easiest. But when I’m with you, Remi, none of it matters.”
Curling my hand around the side of her face, I brushed her jaw with the pad of my thumb. “I want to explore things with you. And I mean more than just that sexy body of yours. Remi, baby, if this is just the start, imagine how good it could get.” I smirked and then nipped at her bottom lip. “And if I could do that without having to wage war against every man who no doubt falls at your feet on a damn near daily basis, then no. It’s not too fast. It’s about fucking time.”
I didn’t wait for her reply.
I kissed her.
Really kissed her.
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Tasting and exploring her mouth as if it were the very first time, because in a lot of ways, it was. It was a fresh start. The beginning. The end. Everything all rolled into one.
And fuck me, fucking fuck me, I had never been so damn excited about something in my entire life.
We were both late that morning. And not because I’d hauled her back to the bedroom the way I so desperately wanted. We sat side by side at my bar, her enjoying a bowl of Frosted Flakes, me with Raisin Bran, and toasted our new relationship with travel mugs of coffee.
We laughed.
I anchored my hand to her thigh.
And she wiped a dribble of milk off my chin with her thumb.
It was all so easy and perfectly normal.
That should have been my first sign that everything was about to go to hell all over again.
Bowen
Remi: Good morning, boyfriend. Or are we too old for that? Manfriend? We really should iron out these titles sooner rather than later.
Me: Since you insisted on going home last night and are texting me and not lying beside me naked, there is officially nothing good about this morning.
Remi: Could you be more dramatic? It was one night. I left your house like twelve hours ago.
After unplugging my phone from the charger, I rolled over in bed, coming nose to nose with a pair of innocent doe eyes, his head on the pillow, his body tucked under the covers. As if I’d needed validation on how much it sucked waking up without Remi, he sneezed in my face.
“Jesus, Sugar.” Using the back of my hand, I wiped my cheek. At the sound of my voice, Clyde took that as his cue to unfurl from his dog bed in the corner and lumber over to poke me in the back with his nose until I flipped over to share the attention.
“Okay, okay. I’m getting up.”
While I’d hated my first night away from Remi that week, the dogs were pretty stoked to be allowed in the bedroom again. After a few quick head scratches, I sat up and typed another message while the dogs performed the morning ritual of trotting around the room, celebrating that I’d once again been resurrected from the dead.
Me: Twelve hours is too long.
Remi: I agree, but Aaron put tap water in the humidifiers the other night. If I don’t get things straight around here, Margret is going to be as dead as you already think she is.
Me: Fine. But pack a bag for tonight. One for Margret too if that’s what it takes. Bring a whole fucking rainforest. I don’t give a shit.
Remi: Yes, sir.
Me: Mmm…that sounds better than both boyfriend and manfriend.
Remi: Sirfriend? How very regal of you.
Me: Don’t you forget it either. I’ll have a placard for my office door ordered by lunch. Sirfriend Bowen Michaels, CPA. Sounds about right.
Remi: The nerds will have to change your name in all their phones. But as long as we’re picking our own titles, I’d like to be Madame Remi, Queen of Auto-Injected Epinephrine and Certified Plant Whisperer.
Me: You be at my house early today and I’ll call you whatever you want.
Remi: How early? What time will you be off?
Me: Technically, I won’t get off until you get here, but I have the entire day blocked out to finish your dad’s stuff. I should be done by two, but I need to hit the grocery store. We’re gonna try round two of burgers tonight. Be here as soon as you can swing it. We can spend the rest of the afternoon in bed making up for last night, and only then will I feed your loud, rumbly stomach. After that, it’s whatever your heart desires this evening. Though I’d like to put in a formal request that, whatever it is, we do it naked too.
Remi: So…bed, food, naked fun. Got it. Well, I’m meeting a new client this morning to show him houses. He’s a single guy and I found one in his price range with a theater room, so I don’t expect it to last long. I should be done by three.
Me: Okay. Then it’s a date, Queen Mouthy.
Remi: The Mouth Queen. Perfect! I’ll show you all my oral…I mean…royal skills this afternoon. See ya in bed at three, Sirfriend.
She was full of it. She’d see me fifteen minutes late, but knowing I’d be seeing her at all had me climbing out of my sheets with a huge grin on my face. I’d barely made it to the bathroom before my phone vibrated in my hand again.
Remi: In case you didn’t notice, I missed you too. See you tonight.
It was something so simple, yet it hit me so damn deep. I swear, after months of walking around hollow-chested with a permanent chill, a little fucking sunshine in my life went a long way.
The day was relatively uneventful, but I stayed busy enough that time didn’t crawl at a snail’s pace. Good news was Remi’s dad wouldn’t be going to jail. Bad news was he owed a nice chunk of change to the IRS. So I’d set him up with a payment plan that, based on The Wave’s revenue, shouldn’t be an issue.
On my way home, I stopped at a plant shop before heading to the grocery store. I must have sorted through a dozen shrubs before deciding on a snake plant. It was nothing fancy or big, and it sure as hell didn’t cost more than my mortgage. But with green paddle-like leaves, it was sturdy and thick.
Sure, it was technically a gift for Remi, but if she was leaving me to go home to take care of her babies, I sure as hell could give her something to care for at my place as well. I chose a deep-red-and-gray ceramic pot that matched my living room, and as soon as I got home, I placed it prominently on the end table. Cassidy would have something to say about me moving her precious woven basket of useless wooden balls, but she’d get over it.
The look on Remi’s face would be worth whatever bullshit my sister doled out.
While I waited for her to arrive, I prepped the burgers and all the accoutrements and put them in the fridge to maximize my time with her once she inevitably got there late. I didn’t think much about it when three-thirty rolled around. I made myself busy, tidying the patio and rearranging the pillows on the swing outside while throwing the ball for the dogs in an attempt to tire them out.
Then four o’clock came and I sent her a teasing text asking if her client was giving her the run around.
It came with no response. Not even a text bubble bouncing at the bottom of the screen from a text message accidentally left unsent. And I knew that because I sat and stared at the message for over an hour, a sour unease settling in my gut.
At five o’clock, it started raining. And not just a drizzle or a spring shower. It was as though the bottom had dropped out of the sky. That was when I officially gave up playing it cool and started calling her. First her cell phone, then her office. It was entirely possible she was still with a client. But the trauma inside me launched my mind into every single worst-case scenario.
I didn’t even know who the hell this client was.
What if it was him?
What if he’d hurt her?
What if she needed me?
What if I failed the woman of my dreams—again?
Deep down, I knew that it wasn’t rational. She was habitually late, and it had only been two hours. But nothing about my life was rational.
I lived in the impossible. The unimaginable. The unfathomable.
For me, the absolute worst wasn’t just a possibility. It was the expectation.
And now it could cost me Remi.
Every single one of my calls went to her voice mail, which skyrocketed my anxiety.
With my heart in my throat, I paced my living room, loud waves of thunder rattling the windows as I tried and failed to slow my racing heart and mind.
She’d be there soon.
She’d laugh at me for worrying and then willingly dive into my shaking arms.
She wouldn’t know why I was losing my mind, but she wouldn’t ask questions or pass judgment.
She’d just be there.
Alive. Breathing. Smiling. Remi.
At six o’clock, I couldn’t take it anymore. I taped a note to my front door for her to call me ASAP and then set out on an all-too-familiar and terrifying search of t
he city.
White-knuckled and through a torrential downpour, I drove straight to her house, hoping and praying she’d gotten off early, taken a nap, and just overslept. No one was there, not even a car in the driveway.
Her office was locked up tight.
I used her website to find the house listed with the home theater, but she wasn’t there, either.
With every dead end, it became harder and harder to breathe. The past triggered memories I’d kept buried deep in my subconscious. So deep that it was the only way I survived at all.
By the time I looped back around to her house, there was a Lexus in the driveway. I didn’t want to be this guy. The boyfriend showing up all wild-eyed and panicked, freaking everyone else out too, but fuck, it was almost seven.
My lungs burned as I pounded on her front door. I was soaking wet, but I could have been on fire and still would have preferred it to the unknown swirling in my chest.
Aaron slowly cracked the door, his angry confusion turning to recognition the second he laid eyes on me. “What the hell, Bowen?”
“Where is she?” I rasped, barely able to form words at all.
His chin jerked to the side as he swung the door open completely. “What do you mean where is she? I assumed she was with you.”
“Well, she’s not.” I stabbed a hand into the top of my hair. “She was supposed to be at my house at three, but she’s not answering her phone. She’s not at the office. She was showing some guy houses today and now it’s radio silence.”
He shook his head as though he were trying to rattle into place all the puzzle pieces I’d thrown at him. “No. We talked at lunch. She finished with that guy early.”
That was but one horrific scenario I could cross off my brain’s mile-long list of impending catastrophes. “Then where the fuck is she?”
“I…” he stammered, but I didn’t let him finish.
“Call Mark,” I ordered. “See if she’s with him. Maybe her dad. Fuck, anyone.”
He blinked at me, my palpable fears quickly transferring to him. “Wait.” His face lit, and he snapped twice, immediately turning on a toe. He marched through the living room and snagged his cell off the coffee table. “I can track her phone. She’s good about checking in before and after she meets a new client, but we set it up when she started showing houses alone again.”