She rose on tiptoe and pressed another kiss to his cheek. “Good night, Brick.”
“Good night, Remington.” He stood there on the porch and watched her walk away from him. Watched her skip across the street and let herself in the cottage gate. She turned and waved under the streetlight, and he raised a hand.
“I can’t tell if I really fucked up or if she’s giving me everything I want,” he said to the cat when Remi disappeared. Magnus blinked and wandered back in the house. The lights in the cottage blazed to life, and Brick winced. She needed the lights when he wasn’t there with her.
Because he made her feel safe.
He stood there for another long minute. Waiting, hoping she’d reappear and jump into his arms.
But there was nothing.
His cell phone rang inside, and with a sigh, he closed the front door and went in search of it.
Remi Ford.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, already turning for the front door.
“Nothing, you big goof. I haven’t had enough time to get into trouble. I just wanted to talk to you while I get ready for bed.”
“Seriously?”
“You’re the one who wanted a relationship,” she teased. “That means we have to have long, meaningful conversations over the phone. Let’s start with what did you want to be when you grew up?”
“A pissed-off, turned-on man waiting for a redhead to come to her senses and climb into his bed.”
“Congratulations on that oddly specific dream coming true.”
“Remi.”
“Brick. Come on. Play along. You might have fun.”
“Not as much fun as if you were naked in my bed.”
“William Eugene Callan the Third. You are not helping my resolve,” Remi said.
She didn’t bust his real name out often, but when she did, she meant business. He cleared his throat. “Fine. I wanted to be a cowboy, a bodyguard, and a game show contestant.”
“What game show?”
“I wanted to win both showcases on The Price is Right. I used to watch it with my mom. What did you want to be?” he asked, carrying their dishes into the kitchen. No room was the same without her in it. She took the light and color with her.
“You know, I don’t think I ever really thought of a job or a label and thought ‘that’s who I want to be,’” she mused.
“I do recall you giving your guidance counselor some migraines.”
“I knew what I wanted to feel instead of what I wanted to do,” she said on an adorable yawn.
“What did you want to feel?” he asked.
“Happy. Respected. Loved. I wanted to feel like I was important to someone beyond my parents and sister. I wanted to matter and not just in the ‘this is my weird little sister who sees music’ way.”
“That’s not how anyone sees you,” Brick said, climbing the stairs to his empty bed.
She sighed. “None of us see ourselves the way others do. Aren’t you the one who just recently confessed to not feeling like he was good enough for a certain someone?”
“This is what you talked to your boyfriends about?”
“I’m talking to you. We’re talking from a safe distance where no one’s clothes will fall off and distract us from the issue at hand.”
He sprawled out on his bed, one hand behind his head, and wished she was next to him. Wished he could turn his head and see that cascade of red hair spilling over his pillows.
“I’d rather talk face-to-face,” he grumbled.
“You’d rather be face-to-face so you can get distracted from talking,” she countered. “Now, tell me why on Miles Davis’s green earth you would ever feel like you’re not good enough.”
His Remi had never looked at him through the lens of reality. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he couldn’t leave her alone. He was addicted to the way she saw him.
“Come on, Brick,” she cajoled. “I really want to know where you got the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas.”
He sighed. “You know what my parents were like,” he said finally.
“And?”
“And what? When we met, my father was in prison for fraud.”
“I know that. And now he’s out and running a business according to your brother.”
“Remi, my mom walked away from us like we were nothing.”
“Honey, that doesn’t mean you were nothing. That doesn’t mean anything about anyone but her. Same with your dad.”
“It’s easy for you to say growing up with Darlene and Gilbert Ford, Mackinac’s answer to Leave It to Beaver.”
“I am no more my parents than you are yours.”
“Your parents loved you and each other enough to stay and work and fight for each other.” His gave up, took the easy way out, walked away. Part of him had believed that if he would have been better, his parents would have, too.
She sighed, and he wished she were here in his bed. “It devastates me to know that you don’t realize what a good, honorable man you are.”
His throat tightened. “I love you, Remi.” He knew she wouldn’t say it back. Knew she wasn’t ready. He had his own proving to do there. But he needed her to know. “So fucking much that it hurts.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she confessed.
He recognized the note of panic in her voice and wished he could hold her.
“You don’t need to say anything back. You just need to hear me. Do you?”
“Yes. I do.” She sounded breathless.
His cock swelled against his stomach at the tremble in her voice. The never-ending need for her was a constant hum reverberating in his blood.
“It makes me feel dizzy, like I’m on a carousel trying to get my bearings,” she said.
“That’s how it feels for me, too.”
“Do you really mean it, Brick?”
“Baby, I love you so fucking much I can’t breathe unless you’re in the same room. So much I wish I were saying it to your beautiful face and not just your goddamn ear.”
His doorbell rang, and he swore.
“What’s wrong?”
“Someone’s at the door.”
“Did you replace me already? Did you get yourself a new girlfriend before I even decided to be yours?”
“You were always mine,” he growled as he headed back down the stairs. “Always. The reason I asked Audrey out? Your dad told me about the guy you were dating in school. He sounded like he was perfect for you. A French hipster sculptor with long hair, and I was just a dirty-talking cowboy waiting for you to come home.”
“Jean-Claude? You gave up on me because of Jean-Claude? The guy smelled like mothballs and soup and he brought his fiancée along on our second date just so he could show off the pronunciation for ménage à trois. There was no third date.”
Brick yanked the door open and found Remi standing there. She tossed her phone over her shoulder and jumped into his arms. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I’ve never not loved you,” she said, raining kisses over his cheeks.
He wrapped her legs around his waist and held her tight as he kicked her phone back into the house, then slammed and locked the door.