16. Remi

Chapter 16

Remi

I collapsed on Blake’s nursery floor next to the organized piles of screws and crib parts. “I am in deep shit.”

Pedro couldn’t come to the crib raising, as his kids had fevers, and Chuck had chosen to go to bed early since he was taking the opening shift at the garage tomorrow. It was Blake, me, and Myles … discussing the impending disaster headed my way.

Myles shared a look with Blake and passed me an unopened beer, his own a quarter of the way gone. I took it but didn’t open it and let it fall by my side, still clutched in my hand.

“Have you approached Tony and Nora yet?” Myles straddled the back of a chair, leaning his arms on its backrest.

I sat up and picked up a piece of Styrofoam, launching it at Myles. What the hell are you thinking? I mouthed and glared at Myles.

“What? Blake doesn’t know?” Myles persisted like the dumb box of rocks he was.

If a duck had his brain, it’d fly north for the winter. I couldn’t imagine the ramifications if Lili learned about me and the CDC. She’d go straight to Angie for sure.

“You want to approach them about what?” Blake looked over the instructions and grabbed the drill Myles held out to him.

I leaned my forearm on my bent knee, my beer still unopened, still dangling from my hand. “Um—”

“On giving him a raise,” Myles finished.

Great, now I was begging for money from a man with terminal cancer.

Blake pressed the drill bit to the white finished wood, and slowly drilled a hole. “Stupid manufacturer didn’t pre-drill these holes right,” he muttered, blowing at the saw dust, then lined it up with another piece. “You want more money? From Tony and Nora?”

“That’s not what’s bugging me.” No way would I let him believe I’d take more money from two people circling the bankruptcy drain.

“Then what’s the problem?” After placing the screw, Blake grabbed the screwdriver and tightened it.

How could I describe my situation without lying to Blake and giving away too much information? He’d be the one who could help me. His wife was Angie’s best friend, and I needed all the help I could get. Maybe he’d provide insight into the situation I’d gotten myself into.

Watching her and Smoot from the front window of the Bearded Axe had made me sick to my stomach … the way his hands had possessively gripped her shoulders and how he’d dropped one to her lower back. I’d been tempted to go show her what it was like to be kissed by someone who knew what he was doing. Not by some guy as worthless as teats on a bull.

Crouching forward, I looked from side to side, listening for any noise in the quiet house. I pressed my index finger into the soft gray carpet, drawing smiley faces into the threads. “Where are Lili and Maddie?”

“They’re having a movie night at Renee’s.”

Good. I leaned against the wall. “I’m starting to like Angie.” My feelings were substantial enough that I didn’t want to deny myself the opportunity to hold her, or to kiss her like a woman deserved to be kissed. “Like. I like, like her,” I confessed, sounding identical to a middle schooler.

The assembly instructions floated to the floor. Blake analyzed me, then Myles. “Is this some sort of prank?”

Myles didn’t say anything and took another sip of his beer. I knew his opinion: Women couldn’t be trusted. Where I used to agree with him, lately, I’d started changing my mind. It all centered on Angie and why I couldn’t get her out of my thoughts.

“No,” I answered. “Not a prank. You have to promise not to tell Lili.”

“You think I’m stupid. I value my marriage way too much. Lili and her hormones are like a hurricane. Right now, I’m enjoying being in the eye of the storm.” He grinned from ear to ear.

I didn’t expect the joy evident on Blake’s face.

Myles pointed to me with his bottle. “You’re happy about this?” he asked Blake.

“Are you kidding? Remi’s not addicted to any illegal substances, and he’s not unemployed living in his parents’ basement or in jail. Plus—” Blake moved to a standing position. “I bet Lili you’d be head over heels for Angie in two months. She guessed six.”

“What?” I held my hands up in surrender. “This is a crush. I’m trying to figure out how to get over it.” Usually, it was simple. I’d take the girl back to my place, show her a good time, and we could both move on. With Angie, I couldn’t risk tanking the deal for one night of fun.

Blake took my hand and pulled me to stand next to him. “You still have time.” He set down the drill. “But while we’re on the subject, do you see yourself falling in love with her?”

“Hell no.”

I lowered my gaze to the carpet. Being asked this question point blank made me pause and look at my feelings for Angie with a critical eye. She was stubborn, determined, smart, drove me hella insane, challenged me at every turn, and all her fire was packaged in beautiful curves.

But I didn’t love her, and I never would. She wanted marriage and the whole package, and I couldn’t offer her that. “I’ve known her for less than two weeks.”

“And I fell in love with Lili in two weeks. Time is relative.” Blake went back to his instructions. “The piece marked A inserts into the corresponding board, but I can only find one board with an A on it.”

“It’s not that easy.” I ran my thumb over the ridges on my bottle cap.

The screwdriver in Blake’s hand paused mid-turn. “What do you mean?”

I wanted to yell, I’m here to buy her farm. The source of her happiness and joy, the thing which defined her, would be ripped from her only in a matter of time. I never failed. And I wouldn’t this time.

“I’m not from here. At some point, I’ll have to go back to my life in Dallas,” I said instead.

Myles laughed, shook his head, and took another swig of his beer, an onlooker in this conversation rather than a participant. I shook my head at him, warning him with a look not to slip up.

If one person in town caught on to who I really was, it’d ruin everything. I’d been blackballed from my fair share of small towns.

“That’s not a big deal. Lili left St. Louis to be with me. And I would have moved to St. Louis for her if she’d decided to stay.” Blake skimmed over the instructions, twirling the Philips in his hand.

“I can’t leave Dallas. I’m anchored there.” More by my Bugatti and my parents’ pool house, not by my family.

“Well, Angie will never move from her land. It means everything to her.”

So, I’d noticed.

“If you’re not willing to make concessions, you, my friend,” Blake pointed the tip of the screwdriver at me, “are screwed.” He looked away from the instruction manual. He dropped the papers to the floor. “I can’t focus. What kind of relationship do you want with Angie, anyway?”

I’d never wanted a woman like I wanted Angie. Like a thirst I couldn’t quench no matter how much water I drank, an itch not relieved by any kind of scratching, a deep hunger set to consume me if it continued to go unsatisfied. Do nothing, and I’d lose my mind—if I acted, I’d lose millions and the freedom I’d fought for my entire life.

Not to mention, I’d ruin Myles’ dream as well.

I hadn’t admitted this to myself until I saw her in Smoot’s arms. More and more this past week, I’d found myself staring at her lips, her contours, imagining how our bodies would fit together. Thankfully, I’d had a day alone running errands to and from the farm store and mowing the lawn on top of the usual chores. For days, we moved and patched pipe, getting the irrigation set up for water.

True, two and a half weeks wasn’t long, but I’d never spent this much time with a woman.

One taste of her, and surely, I’d go back to normal, back to my carefree lifestyle, where this woman didn’t rule my thoughts.

I answered Blake’s question, “I don’t know. I just know I can’t ignore this thing between us anymore.”

“Then you stay away from her.” The warning in his voice came out as loud and clear as a tornado siren. Older-brother, protective vibes came off him in waves. “Get your feelings solidly in the ‘I love you’ zone before you make a move on Angie, or I’ll run you out of town. Don’t touch her until you’re ready to give her wedded bliss. She’s not the one-night-stand type.”

“I know.” I dropped my unopened beer bottle onto the carpet and ran both my hands through my hair.

Myles let out a whistling breath and chortled. “Remi, married?” He drank more of his beer, nearly choking before he swallowed.

“Is that hard to imagine?” I asked.

“Yes,” he responded without hesitation.

If I wanted to, I could make this work.

First thing to do: contact my asshat brother and tell him I refused to buy Angie’s family farm.

Second: tell my greed-driven father I quit.

Third: beg my mother to allow me access to my inheritance, which wouldn’t happen even if hell froze over.

Fourth: Use it to pay off Angie’s farm.

Crazier things had happened. Right?

But was I ready to commit to one woman for the rest of my life? Not at all. My parents pretty much proved wedded bliss as a myth. Sure, Tony and Nora challenged that belief, but not enough for me to change the bro code I’d lived by since the age of ten.

In chick flicks, things like this worked out all the time. Not that I was a regular consumer of those romantic movies. For research into the women’s psyche, I’d watched a couple of romantic comedies with a barf bag next to me, just in case. The unreal expectations set in those movies weren’t possible to compete with.

Men simply didn’t behave in that way.

Not in the real world.

The probability of all this working out wasn’t in my favor. My mother would never let me have access to a cent, and Dad would cut me off and fire me without severance. Tenacious as ever, my brother would never leave a deal undone, especially one with this much potential for profit, and the land would get sold to him anyway.

Step one: Cut all association of joint ventures with Angie.

Step two: Let Smoot have her.

My throat tightened to the point where I had difficulty swallowing. I’d teach her enough about the lingo, and the sports Smoot seemed most interested in and then let her fly or fail.

Step three: No more caring, desire, or want.

I couldn’t even think about how close we were as she’d leaned over me to shut off the tractor, about how her heartbeat pulsed into me, matching my own, the way her lips parted in anticipation of a kiss. I definitely couldn’t think about her soft body in my arms after she’d fallen off the stool—or about the way I had to resist going outside, taking her from Smoot’s arms, and giving her a thorough lesson of my own.

Stop it, Remi. I focused on the dull ache in my toe, still hurting from Angie dropping the butt of her axe on it. Feeding this attraction, even one kiss, would lead to a lot more pain.

I hit my head back on the wall. I was in deep shit.