11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Hannah

A week went by, and Remington was still around.

I knew this because his footsteps were driving me crazy. I couldn’t concentrate on anything with him tromping back and forth over my head. If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve said he was dancing up there.

He’d picked a bad day to take up two-steppin’. After a busy morning of clients, I was sweaty and tired. I wanted to get my paperwork done and get home, but not before I grabbed a treat from Sugar Rush.

My stomach rumbled at the thought. If Phe ran out of donuts before I got there, I was going to be pissed.

“Okay, concentrate, Hannah Kelly,” I mumbled. “Surely he’ll stop soon.”

I picked up my phone to call a client, but before I could dial their number, I forgot who I was calling and why. My attention had been diverted by a sudden bang right above my head, followed by more of those torturous footsteps.

“That’s it .” I pushed back from my desk and yanked my office door open. “Whatever he’s doing up there is going to stop. He can’t just show up here and disrupt everything.”

I stormed up the stairs, murder on my mind. No, I wasn’t homicidal in real life, but my inner thoughts could get pretty damn bloody when I was on a tear. And boy , was I on a tear.

Graham’s bedroom door was shut, but I didn’t let a little thing like that stop me. I threw it wide open but didn’t barge in. Not when I was faced with a sight I didn’t know how to decipher.

Clothing was piled high on the bed, worn flannels and faded jeans. Graham’s boots were lined in a row on the floor at the foot of the bed, and his hats were stacked atop one of the spindles on the footboard.

Remi turned from the closet, a couple sweaters bundled in his arms. His bare arms. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. In fact, all he had on was a pair of low-slung athletic shorts.

“Hey.” Dumping the sweaters next to the flannels, he straightened, his hands going to his hips. “I didn’t know you were here.”

I tried not to take him in but failed, my annoyance and hunger falling by the wayside as I got a good look at this man. He wasn’t naked like he’d been the first day. Then, I’d been too distracted to focus on all that was Remington Town anyway. He wasn’t buff like a gym rat, but he was very clearly strong, with broad shoulders and trim hips. Dark hair nestled between lightly defined pecs and trailed down an abdomen just soft enough for me to be tempted to rest my head on. Solid and real, Remi was so physically my type, it was almost painful.

“I got here an hour ago,” I uttered. “I’ve been listening to you stomp around up here the whole time.”

He winced, sucking air between his teeth. “Sorry. I would’ve done this another day if I’d known you were in the office. This house has good bones, but sound carries like nowhere else. I’d forgotten about that.”

I walked into the room and picked up Graham’s black flannel Stetson. “What are you doing with Graham’s things?”

Remi scanned all of his piles then flicked his gaze to me. “Thought I’d bag it all up to donate. It’s wasting space here, and there’s bound to be someone who could use it.”

I clutched the hat to my chest as my stomach bottomed out. “You’re…getting rid of everything?”

He gestured carelessly to the piles. “Unless there’s something you or Henry want.” He tipped his chin toward the hat in my hands. “That Stetson? You want it?”

“Yes. Of course I do.” My teeth dug into my bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

This room…it still smelled like Graham. A little bit of tobacco, fabric softener, and something unnamable that was strictly him. And Remi wanted to strip it bare, to erase every trace, when that was all I had: traces.

“Hannah…” Remi’s voice softened. He came closer, though the bed was still between us. “I don’t have to do this today. It was on my mind, but if you don’t want me to, I can—”

“What’s the rush?” I bit out, my grief rolling out in waves of anger. “He won’t know his things are gone. He’s gone, hopefully somewhere better, but if not, at least he’s at peace. You’re not gonna hurt him by tossing his things out. The only ones who are going to be hurt—”

I started to say “us,” but that wasn’t right. Henry had given a damn about Graham, but things weren’t important to him. If all this stuff was gone by tomorrow, he wouldn’t notice.

“You,” Remi uttered. “I’m going to hurt you by getting rid of it. Shit , sweetheart, I wasn’t thinking.”

I shielded my eyes so he wouldn’t see if they betrayed me and let the welling tears drip.

“Half this house is mine. I’m claiming this room and all the things in it. These are my clothes, my boots, my hats.” I swiped the back of my hand over my wet eyes. “Just go out and close the door. Pretend it’s not here.”

He looked around the room for a long time, surveying everything in it, which wasn’t much. Graham had had a pretty spartan decorating style. He hadn’t cared for knickknacks or clutter. But there was a picture of him holding little Remi on his shoulders on his nightstand. The last book he read was dog-eared beside it, along with his reading glasses. Signs of his life were in this room, and I wasn’t ready for any of it to be gone.

Remi finally nodded. “I can leave it, but if you change your mind and want to clear it out, tell me. You don’t need to do it on your own.”

He was so casual about this, and it didn’t compute for me. No matter how fractured his relationship with his father had been, I couldn’t comprehend how he could have no feelings about his death.

“This really doesn’t affect you, does it?” I set the hat down to pick up a flannel and lift it to my nose. Then I glanced up at Remi, who was watching me. “Even now, surrounded by his things and his scent, you feel nothing?”

He rocked back on his heels, his jaw tensing, though his eyes were soft on me. “I am sad, Hannah. Seeing you missing him, mourning him…it hits me square in the chest. You holding that flannel, searching for something you can hold on to…? Your loss is palpable, and I’m sorry as hell for it.” He touched the place over his heart with his fingertips. “I don’t feel what you feel. Looking for it in me is a waste of time. My father abandoned me when my mother died. He was here, in this house, but only in body, and even that was touch and go when he went on such extreme benders, he forgot his name, let alone the son he had at home. I mourned the father I once had for years while he was still alive, but I got tired of it. These days, I’m all out of grief. That well is dry as a bone, and there’s no bringing it back.”

I clutched the flannel tighter. This wasn’t new information. Graham had been honest about why Remi had wanted nothing to do with him. He’d known the kind of father he’d allowed himself to be. But hearing it from Remi…well, it was hard to reconcile his description of his father with the man I had known, though I understood it was nothing short of the truth.

“I won’t look for it anymore.” I blinked at him and sighed. “If you want to get rid of anything else, run it by me first, all right? I’m not a hoarder, and I know someone else can use these clothes, but…not yet. It’s too soon.”

He bowed his head, his lids lowering. “Okay, Hannah. I hear you, and I get it.”

Tossing his hands out, he let them fall heavily to his sides.

“Is it hard for you to relax and stay in one place?” I asked.

He groaned lightly. “You have no idea.”

“No, I do. Relaxing isn’t in my wheelhouse. If I don’t have a task, I go out of my mind.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at the piles again. “Cay offered me work on the ranch.”

I didn’t hesitate. “You should do it.”

His eyes lit on me, sparking with amusement despite the heaviness we’d just shared.

“Trying to get rid of me?”

I scoffed. “Absolutely. I don’t think I can bear another afternoon of you tromping around up here. If we’re being honest, I’m not sure the floorboards can take it either.”

That got him laughing. His head tipped back, revealing the pointy Adam’s apple in his golden throat. My lips twitched with the urge to smile. I’d always found it difficult not to laugh when others were, but managed to suppress it by burying my nose in the flannel. His laughter petered out, and he gazed at me, those starburst crinkles around his eyes.

“This house has withstood many storms. I think it’ll be standing long after I’m gone.”

I swallowed hard, wondering when exactly that would be. I didn’t ask, though. I wasn’t certain I wanted the answer.

“I’m sure it will be.”

Soon, I was back in my office, Graham’s flannel over my tank top. When I heard heavy footsteps on the back porch, I peeked through the blinds. Remi and Henry were outside, and it looked like the old man was bossing Remi around.

Only then, when there wasn’t a chance he could see, did I let my lips curve into a full grin.