Page 7 of A Kiss to Remember
“I was hoping you could join us for dinner tonight,” Briana said, then shot her a sly smile. “But now I see why you turned down the invite. You had a better offer. I ain’t mad at you,” she stage-whispered.
“What?” Remi blinked, heat blasting a path up her chest and into her face. Thank God for the dark. “No, this isn’t—” She waved a hand between her and Declan, silently ordering herself not to look at him. “No,” she repeated. Firmly. Because that glint hadn’t disappeared from either her mother’s or sister’s gazes. But wait. Hold up a second. “And what invitation? I didn’t get...” She glanced at Rochelle.
So did Briana.
“Mom?” Briana frowned. “I asked you to tell Remi about dinner tonight. You didn’t call her?”
“I’m sorry, honey. I must’ve forgot.” She winced, lifting a shoulder in an apologetic half shrug. “You were at work anyway, Remi. And besides, you probably would’ve been uncomfortable as a third wheel.”
Anger and hurt coalesced inside her, shimmering bright and hot.
Her mother hadn’t forgotten. More like she hadn’t wanted to be embarrassed by her middle daughter’s perennially single status. And as Briana’s gaze narrowed on Rochelle, Remi could tell her sister knew it, as well.
“But,” Rochelle continued, smiling at Declan, who’d remained silent since bumping into her family, “since you’re here, why don’t you join us? We were heading to Mimi’s Café for coffee. You, too, Declan. We’d love to have you.”
Panic ripped through Remi, and she glanced at Declan. As if he’d been waiting for that moment, his eyes connected with hers, and the clash reverberated like a collision of metal against screeching metal. Shefelthim. In her chest, belly... Lower.
“Declan?” her mother asked again, breaking their visual connection like cracked glass sprinkling to the ground.
He looked at her mother. Smiled.
“I would be delighted to join you. Thank you for inviting me.”
Shit.
Again.
“WHATTHEHELL,REMI? I heard Declan Howard kissed you in the middle of the library today, but I thought that was just gossip! But apparently not! You’ve been holding out on me.” Briana hip-checked Remi, her mock scowl promising retribution. “How long has this been going on?”
Remi sighed, sneaking a peek in Declan’s direction. He stood with her father and Darnell near the bakery case, talking. Part of her battled the urge to save him from a possible pumping of information by her father. But the other, admittedly petty, half thrilled in leaving him served up to that grilling since he agreed to this craziness.
“Bri, we’re just friends,” Remi hedged. Were they even that? In the years since his mother had moved to Rose Bend, she’d barely said a handful of words to him.
“Friends who tongue wrestle?” Briana nodded. “Yes, Darnell and I are the best of friends, too.”
Remi snickered, then sipped her caramel macchiato. “I have no idea how he puts up with you.”
“Right?” Briana beamed. She turned, scanning the café until her gaze landed on her fiancé. And her pretty face softened with such adoration that Remi cleared her throat. As if sensing her attention on him, the handsome IT analyst with dark brown eyes and beautiful almond skin, looked up and sent his fiancée the sweetest smile.
“I’d say, ‘Get a room,’ but you might take that literally,” Remi drawled, those conflicting emotions of envy and happiness warring in her chest again.
Briana chuckled, and Remi rolled her eyes at the lasciviousness of it.Yech.
“Bri, I need to borrow your sister for a minute.” Rochelle appeared beside Remi, slipping an arm through hers. “You should go entertain your future mother-in-law instead of flirting with your fiancé and making the rest of us blush.”
Remi bit back a groan even as she allowed herself to be led away to a corner of the café. She’d been trying to avoid her mother since arriving at Mimi’s. Even a cup of her favorite hot beverage couldn’t make her forget that her mother had an agenda by inviting her and Declan to join a gathering she’d intentionally excluded Remi from in the first place.
And yeah, best not dwell too long on that.
“Honey, what is that you’re drinking?” Rochelle scrunched up her nose.
Dread swished in her stomach like day-old swill. “Caramel macchiato.”
“That’s nothing but dessert in a cup. Tea is so much better for you.” She shook her head, and her disappointment dented the hard-won, forged-in-fire armor of confidence Remi had built around herself—her heart. “Now, tell me about what’s going on between you and Declan.”
God, if she held in all these sighs, she would end up with gastric issues.
“Mom, don’t get ahead of yourself,” she warned.
