Page 75 of Forever Never
Brick: Remi?
Instead of responding, Remi made a call.
“Hey, Dad. Do you think you can sneak me into the school? I’ve got a special project I need help with.”
21
He felt like an idiot. Not only had he gotten that haircut and shave—plus the hot towel facial Ken had strong-armed him into—he’d also applied beard balmandclipped the tags off a new flannel shirt he’d never gotten around to wearing. All this on the off chance that the woman who was freezing him out would show that night. The woman he was not going to pursue.
The woman who hadn’t been out of his mind for the past fifteen days since she’d returned to ruin his quiet island life.
Her efforts in ignoring him made the temperature on the island feel twenty degrees colder than it already was. Such were the powers of Remington Ford.
In the grocery store, she’d given him a cool nod, looking through him rather than at him. She was treating him like a stranger. Like he was nothing to her. He made it all the way home before he realized he’d forgotten the damn beef broth for his damn stew and had to go back to the store.
They’d both shown up to watch that week’s street hockey game, and when she spotted him, she’d crossed the damn street to watch from the front porch of a fudge shop rather than spectate near him. He ended up catching a ball to the chest because he was too busy glowering at her to watch the game.
Despite her complete and total avoidance of him, there were signs of her in his own house. Like the clean coffee pot resting upside down in the drying rack next to the sink. Or the dozen oatmeal chocolate chip cookies on his kitchen counter with a sticky note that said simply “Rent.”
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how doing the right thing had landed him in this situation.
But it didn’t matter. Because he had something to discuss with her. Something she’d want to hear.
He arrived early at the grille, a restaurant that opened on the weekends in the winter for Mackinac’s stalwart residents. It was a few decades overdue for a renovation with its nautical decor, but the food was good, and the heating system worked well.
He took a booth toward the back with a view of the front door. It was cozier. And she’d either have to decide to sit on his side where their bodies would definitely end up touching or Kimber’s where she’d have to look at him.
He fiddled with the menus and his phone, looking up every time the bell on the door jangled.
It wasn’t until his jaw started to ache that he realized he was scowling.
He had an ace up his sleeve that meant she’d have to talk to him. Kimber arrived a few minutes later, looking pink-cheeked and frazzled.
She spotted him and slid into the booth across from him. “You look good. What’s the occasion?” she asked, snagging one of the menus.
He winced, self-conscious now that he’d overdone it on the whole appearance thing.
“No occasion. Ken dragged me into his chair for a hair cut.”
“He’s terrifying and talented,” she noted, perusing the specials. “Hear anything from Remi?”
His jaw clenched reflexively, and he cleared his throat. “No.”
“Me neither. She’s probably blowing us off. Ooh! They brought back the beer cheese soup!”
Brick pretended to stare down at his menu until the door jangled at the front again.
He nearly stood when he spotted her. Red hair confined to a long braid over one shoulder. A navy wool hat that made those wide eyes look even greener. She shrugged out of her coat and took his fucking breath away. The mustard yellow henley and dark jeans cuffed above waterproof ankle boots hugged her curves hypnotically. Once again, she’d massacred the sleeve of her shirt to fit over the cast.
She looked edible. Fuckable.
It took him a full breath before he realized she wasn’t alone.
The toothy, happy-go-lucky Corporal Carlos Turk was taking her coat and hanging it up like he was her goddamn date or something. Brick’s fist closed on the specials page and crumpled it.
“Hi, guys,” Remi said, looking at her sister and pointedly ignoring him. “I think we’re going to need a bigger table. I brought reinforcements.”
“Hi, Mom!” Ian poked his head out from behind Carlos and grinned.
