Page 96 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

The snow that’d been threatening all day had only just begun to fall. Big, fat flakes were coming down, sticking to the ground, but melting as soon as they touched the Christmas lights.

Christmas was just over a week away.

Rusty’d put up the lights one afternoon several weeks ago.

The gaiety had been a wonderful surprise when she’d arrived home in the dark. She’d been wistful about Christmases past and hopeful of Christmases to come. Every night, she looked forward to coming home to her family. Tonight was no exception.

Pulling her briefcase from her front seat, she tightened her scarf and headed for the door.

She was barely through the threshold when the smells assailed her. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d skipped lunch so she could leave early to make her appointment with Kennedy.

“Remy’s home.” Mira’s high voice filled the entire room. Heck, possibly the whole house. “We can eat!”

Rusty glanced over at her and shrugged at his daughter’s exuberance.

“You didn’t have to wait.” That ever-present guilt reared its ugly head.

“We hoped you might make it.” He took her briefcase and placed it next to the table in the front hall, then helped her out of her coat. “Plus, the shortbread cookies just came out of the oven, and the rice is now ready. You picked the perfect time to come home.”

“What can I do?”

He offered her one of his endearing smiles. “Get changed quickly. Dinner’ll keep, but not for long.”

Needing no further urging, she made her way to the bedroom, stripping from her suit, and slipped into her pajamas. She almost changed into jeans and a blouse, but it more hassle than it was worth. Rusty’d seen her in her bedclothes before, so why should tonight be any different?

She emerged as the girls were sitting down. When she tried to help Rusty, he pointed to her chair. “I have this all organized. Don’t mess with the plan.”

She couldn’t help but smile. He could be very possessive of his kitchen—which she admired. Her ineptitude contrasted with his aptitude. Everything seemed to come so easy for him, while she struggled to make toast without burning it.

How she’d survived the two weeks after her parents’ deaths, she’d never know. Somehow, she’d managed to feed both herself and Calleigh.

For every meal since, though, she’d shown her infinite gratitude. Now he was more than a nanny—he was her husband. As a partner, she would have to share more of the burden. He shouldn’t have to cook every meal. “What’s for dinner?”

Rusty was about to answer when Calleigh spoke up. “Chicken with tera...no...teri...terigucky sauce.”

“Do you mean teriyaki?” Remy suppressed laughter but it was a close thing.

Calleigh and Mira both nodded enthusiastically as he placed their plates in front of them.

Mira picked up her fork.

“Mira.” His voice was gentle.

“Oops. I supposed to wait.”

“That’s right.” He issued the praise as he placed plates in front their spots. “Everybody set?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Mira paused. “Oh, and before I forget, I supposed to thank you.”

“Yes.” Calleigh added the thought with a touch of solemnity. “Thank you.”

Remy tried not to grin, but she couldn’t help it. When she picked up her fork, she turned to her husband. “And I’ll add my thanks. It’s nice to come home to this.”

His smile warmed her from the inside out.

“It’s my pleasure. It’s always my pleasure.”

Chapter forty

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