Page 25 of Forever Never
He wanted to toss her over his shoulder, take her home, and shake some sense into her.
He wanted to—
“Hi, Brick,” she said on a soft breath. The fingers of her good hand brushing the skin on the back of his neck, scorching him, torturing him.
Without a word, he set her on her feet and opened the lower cabinet. He grabbed the gravy boat and its platter off the shelf and held it out like a shield. “Here.”
“Well, hell. Since when do they keep it there?” she complained.
Her hair was pulled on top of her head in a fiery knot. Loose strands escaped as if even her hair refused to be tamed. She was dressed casually in another pair of long tights and a cropped sweatshirt the color of fresh grass. It was loose-fitting, the hem flirting with the high waist of her pants. He knew he’d lose sleep that night thinking how easy it would be to slide a hand under it.
She reached out to take the dishes, her fingers brushing his, and he wished for things to go back to the way they’d been before. Before she’d come home. Before she’d walked into his arms. Before he’d seen the shadows.
Before he’d jerked himself off so violently he still felt the damn vibrations of it.
He should be letting go of the dishes. He should be taking several steps back. Not obsessing over the feel of her fingers against his.
Breaking out of his fugue, Brick took the dishes back. “Stop falling off shit,” he snapped.
“Stop telling me what to do.” Her gaze flicked to the doorway and back again. “And stop fighting with me. Everyone thinks we hate each other.”
“Don’t we?” He hadn’t meant it. Not really. He hated himself when it came to her. But he could never hate her.
Old Remi would have punched him in the shoulder and called him an asshole. But this new Remi was an entirely different creature. Watching the hurt bloom in those moss green eyes made him feel like a fucking asshole.
“Remi, wait—”
She shook her head and stepped out of his reach as he juggled the gravy boat. “I’m too tired for the hot-cold routine. Let’s leave it at cold and leave each other the hell alone.”
“What hot-cold routine?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice low. He knew exactly what she was talking about but didn’t want her running out of the room until they were back on an even keel.
“You know what I’m talking about, you monumental ass,” she hissed. “One second, you’re stocking my freezer with your cock hard enough to cut off the circulation to your lower body. The next, you’re telling me you hate me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied.
“Fuck off, Brick.” She flipped him off on her way out of the room.
He swore under his breath and followed. It was going to be a painful night.
9
“What color is this song, Aunt Remi?” Hadley asked from across the table.
Remi shifted away from Brick yet again. Usually he sat as far away from her as possible. But since she was furious with him, the chances of her flirting with him were nil. She was still dangerous, but it was a safer kind of danger.
Remi cleared her throat as she looked up from the moat of mashed potatoes she’d been poking with her spoon. “It’s all bright yellows and oranges with little explosions of red,” she told her niece.
She didn’t sit in chairs like a normal adult. There was no straight-backed posture for Remi. She hugged one knee into her chest, her other foot swinging as if she couldn’t tolerate stillness for even one meal.
“So, Remi Honey,” Darlene said, changing the subject. “How long are you renting Red Gate?”
Remi didn’t look up from her plate. “Just a couple of weeks. Agnes doesn’t have a reservation until spring.”
“A couple of weeks?” Kimber’s eyebrows shot up. “That can’t be cheap even in the dead of winter. Where’d you come up with that kind of cash?”
Brick listened raptly as he hefted a fork of turkey to his mouth.
Remi shrugged. “Pretty sure she gave me a ‘practically family’ deal. I forgot how cute that place is on the inside. She had the kitchen redone a year or two ago with new cabinets and appliances. And between the furnace and the fireplace, it’s downright toasty.”
