Page 69 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

Dinnerwasabitchaotic.

The girls maintained they could eat their pizza slices whole, not cut into pieces.

Rusty relented, and the adults assisted the girls as best as they could. He nearly groaned out loud when Remy got tomato sauce on her pale-blue blouse, but she was unperturbed.

He insisted, however, that he handle baths so she’d get a chance to change before story time. Oh, nice. She was already on Calleigh’s bed, book in hand, when bath time was over.

The book was one they picked up yesterday at the library.

The girls launched themselves into her arms and snuggled up close.

Amazing how much she’d changed in such a short time. Her face was flushed with joy, and her enthusiasm was apparent as she read the book about flowers. A second book, this one about tree forts, followed.

As always, eyes were drooping by the time the story ended, and they tucked the girls into bed with kisses.

He followed Remy from the girls’ room, closing the door. “I’ll grab the Diet Cokes.”

She offered him a weak smile. “We need to talk.”

Oh, that ominous phrase. He made quick work of the drinks and headed for the living room.

Instead of her normal spot in her chair, she sat on the couch. When he hesitated, she patted the seat next to her. She accepted her drink, took a sip, and then put it on the coffee table.

His breath caught when she turned sideways to face him.

She rested her lower back against the arm of the couch and tucked her toes under his thigh.

“Are your feet cold?” This intimacy was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one.

She shook her head.

He turned his body, draping his arm over the back of the couch. “To what do I owe the honor of you joining me?”

“I just wanted to be close to you.”

“I like the sound of that.” He looked into her eyes. Uh-oh, they were on two different tracks. “What’s wrong?”

His stomach sank when she hesitated. He wanted her to answer, but he also knew from experience he couldn’t push. She’d share when she was ready.

“We served the papers to Sissy today.”

He sucked in his breath. His ex-wife had finally contacted him with her new address—a sober living facility—and he’d sent more money. He’d told Remy, and she’d taken the address and the custody documents he’d had drawn up. Intellectually he’d known what she would do with everything, but he hoped if he left it to her, he might feel less guilt.

Yeah, right, like that’s ever going to fucking happen.

“What…how...?”

“I used a process server I know. Sissy took the papers without comment and then went into the house.”

“Is that normal?”

“Process serving can be tricky. A few times I’ve had to serve notice to witnesses who are, invariably, reluctant.” She paused. “Katrina said she executed it without a hitch.”

“So that’s it?”

“For now. Unless she comes back with something, we have a date with the court in two weeks—December twenty-third.” She flexed her toes.

“That fast?”

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