Page 171 of Forever Never
Brick slid the handle of the paintbrush into the back pocket of her jeans. “You’re not going far,” he reminded her.
There were a handful of semi-permanent lodging options for her to choose from. Topping the list were snagging a room at the Grand Hotel or moving back into her parents’ house. Kimber’s guest room had been considered and discarded after spending an entire pancake breakfast watching Kyle and Kimber take turns pulling each other into the laundry room to continue an argument that sounded older than either of their children.
“Thanks for letting me crash at your place for a few days until I decide,” Remi said, toying with a button on his shirt.
“About that,” he said, crossing his arms. There was a cocky confidence in his stance that she’d noticed more often recently.
“Having second thoughts?” she asked. She was already in the studio all the time, relearning her way around a canvas. Any time not spent painting or with Brick working, they were cooking, lounging, banging, or sleeping. Mostly at his place. Despite that, moving in together—no matter how temporarily—was still a big deal.
“I am,” he said briskly.
Ouch.
“Uh. Oh. I totally get it. I can stay at my parents’ place,” she said. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been looking forward to sharing a roof with the man. Not until it was taken off the table.
He fisted a hand in her hoodie and pulled her to her toes. “I don’t want youcrashingwith me. I want youlivingwith me.”
Her mouth fell open, and she couldn’t quite remember how jaw muscles worked to close it. “Uhhh.”
He shot her a bemused look. “You okay?”
“Uhhh.”
His grin incinerated her panties. “Baby, I want you with me. Every night, every day. I want to come home and find you covered in paint in the studio or naked in the tub, or crying over John Wayne movies.”
“Live with as in…not get a hotel room?” Clarification felt essential at the moment.
He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”
“Is this because of the articles?”
A series of news articles and blog posts had popped up earlier that week with unnamed sources hinting that Alessandra Ballard had attacked the good senator in the hospital after the accident. So far, neither Camille nor Warren had commented on the speculation.
“Vorhees is a factor,” Brick admitted. “But not the only one. Not even the most important one.”
“What’s the most important one?” A lot was riding on his answer.
“I can’t stand to be any farther from you than I have been. So unless you want to rent a room from a next-door neighbor, I want you home with me. Every night.”
She couldn’t process this fast enough. He had shifted gears on her. He’d gone from slow and steady and punched it into overdrive without any warning.
“Your studio is there. I’m there. Magnus loves you. I love you. What the hell are we waiting for?”
Remi rubbed a hand over her chest. “This feels kind of sudden.”
On a chuckle, he dropped his forehead to hers. “Baby, it’s been almost fifteen years.”
“Are yousure?” she pressed. Too often, the man chose “the right thing” over the thing he wanted.
“Say, yes, Remi,” he growled.
She could see it. Planting roots, for the next few weeks at least. They could test the waters. Together.
“Okay. Yes.”
“Good girl.” He looked smug in his victory, and it made her happy to know she’d made him happy. “Now, let’s get the rest of your stuff moved.”
She squealed with delight when he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her into the sunshine and across the street.
