Page 50 of Forever Never
“I don’t think you’re talking about making a Hallmark movie then,” he said.
He took off his own coat and pushed her toward a chair at the little dining table.
“Where are we going?” she demanded.
“Sit.” He nudged her into the chair and knelt down to remove her boots. Her socks were mismatched.
She leaned on one elbow and closed her eyes.
“Not yet, Remi. Water first.”
“Water first,” she repeated without opening her eyes.
He went into the kitchen and filled a glass from the tap. A quick search of the cabinets revealed an old bottle of ibuprofen. With both in hand, he returned to the table where she was now facedown on top of some paperwork.
“Come on, baby. Drink up.”
“Ugh. I don’t want to drink anymore. Can’t you see I’m practically swimming in alcohol?”
“I meant water,” he said, pushing the glass into her hand. “And take these.”
“Are those Tic Tacs? Is my breath gross?”
“It’s for the headache you’re going to have in a few hours, and if there’s a god, all day tomorrow.”
“You know what sucks?” she said as she tossed the tablets into her mouth and nearly knocked over the water.
“A lot of things.”
“Hangovers. I turned thirty and BAM!” She slammed a hand down on the table. “It’s like getting hit with a three-day flu. I hardly ever drink anymore.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Yeah, well, you think I’m a terrible person, so I can see why you’d think that.”
“I don’t think you’re a terrible person. A terrible pain in the ass, yes.”
“Brick?” she looked up at him with sad eyes. Her lower lip trembled.
Damn it. Be strong, man!
“What?” God. What was she going to ask him, and would he be able to say yes? More importantly, would he be strong enough to deny her?
“Will you please make me some mac and cheese?”
His shoulders sagged in relief. “Yeah, baby. I’ll make you some mac and cheese.”
She smiled up at him. “You take such good care of me.”
“I’m glad you think so, at least when you’re drunk. Why don’t you get ready for bed, and I’ll bring you a bowl?” he suggested.
“Do I have to?”
He went into the kitchen and found the boxes of pasta he’d given her in the otherwise empty cabinet. At this rate, he was going to have to drag her ass to the grocery store. “Don’t women have to take off their eye makeup before bed?” he reminded her, putting a small pot on the front burner.
“Good point. How do you know that? Oh, right, I forgot. You were married. That was terrible, by the way.”
“It wasn’t exactly a good time for me either,” he murmured.
