Page 48 of Have a Bear-y Little Christmas
If he thought his hunky, beefcake of a body with biceps nearly the size of my head and thighs I kind of wanted to chew on was a “sleeper build”, I would hate to see what he thought a jacked man looked like. I bit back the urge to flirtatiously comment on his physique, because it definitely wouldn’t be appropriate. Not only were his daughters a few feet away, but I was also about to meet a whole ton of his family.
Besides, I wasn’t sure if he was at the stage where he’d have romantic feelings foranybody.
Remy was largely in touch with his emotions and had a high EQ that a lot of guys didn’t. So, it was entirely possible that he wasn’t over his wife and was well aware of it. I didn’t want to come on to him and put him in an uncomfortable position. Especially since he was my ride back. Sure, some people would be ready to date a year and a half after their spouse’s passing, and some might never be. Both responses were completely valid, but until I knew for sure, I needed to make sure I kept any especially flirty comments to myself.
After all, I wasn’t entirely sure I wouldn’t spontaneously combust if Remy actually made a genuine pass at me. Friendship was just as valuable and lovely as romance, and I wasn’t about to ruin that by being greedy.
“All right then, Mr. Muscles,” I said, though I supposed that was a bit borderline flirty. “Lead the way.”
He slowed his long strides so the kids and I could keep up with him. I got the feeling that he had a lot of experience withthat because of his girls—not to mention that his wife had been disabled for a good chunk of her life.
Man, I wished I could have gotten to know her. She must’ve been a brilliant woman, considering who she had been married to and the amazing kids she’d raised. It was always the good ones, wasn’t it?
Was it strange to mourn a woman when I was attracted to the man she’d left behind? Maybe. But it was an interesting quandary to puzzle over, so I did just that while we walked.
It wasn’t the first time in my life I’d escaped to my own head. As a child, I was told I over-thought too much, but in my opinion, everyone else was under-thinking. What was wrong with having a running dialogue in my own mind? It kept me from being lonely and helped me from saying anything too stupid—well, as long as my mouth didn’t get ahead of my brain, which did happen from time to time.
He stopped in front of a pair of cabins that faced a small pond. During the warmer months it was probably a lovely place to sit and read while looking at fish, but now, it was a wobbly circle of ice just large enough for Addy to lie across. “Here we are.”
“Ours is the one with the blue shutters, and yours is the one with the red shutters. Girls, why don’t you take your backpacks inside while I show Miss Jeannie and Max the ropes?”
“Aye-aye, Captain!” Eva said with a salute before reaching up for her bag. Remy handed her the bright pink one with butterflies and unicorns, while Addy got a green one with a weeping willow on the front and pretty artwork of a stream.
“See you inside,” Remy said as they ran off.
And then it was our turn. He led us into the cabin and turned on the lights, illuminating a slightly dusty but otherwise clean cabin that was essentially a two-bedroom apartment, just rustic.
“Wow, this is the best camping ever!” Max said, running to one of the rooms, flicking on the light, and then launching himself onto the bed. I was a bit worried about him running himself ragged too soon, but I would hold off on policing his fun just yet.
“This is amazing,” I said, looking at the kitchenette, the modest sitting area with a couch and television hung on the wall, and the bathroom. “Are all the cabins like this?”
“Some are nicer than others, some are newer than others, but this is kind of the average,” Remy said. “Where would you like me to put your things?”
“I’ll take my bag in here, please,” Max called from where he was still sprawled on the bed.
“That fancy rolling suitcase can go in the other room, then,” I said, wondering if I was caught up in anextremelyconvincing hallucination. “Mine is the battered one with unknown stains from before I thrifted it, just in case you forgot.”
Thankfully, Remy laughed at my joke, because I wasn’t entirely sure it was in the right spirit. Most of the rich people I met in my life were either disastrously out of touch, jerkwads, or plain old oblivious, but Remy was nothing like that. The day we met, I’d assumed he was at least middle class because he didn’t even blink at the exorbitant price of the food at the ice rink, but now, with the photos from the tour that had to be over a hundred dollars as well as his family lands, I was suddenly beginning to realize that the handsome man I had forged a friendship with wasrich-rich.Not mega yachts and Cayman Islands wealthy, but he definitely didn’t have to worry about bills and likely had a sizeable inheritance.
I didn’t know how to feel about that.
Did he think I was a loser? Did he think I was a failure who couldn’t manage myself? It didn’t seem that way, but it was really hard for me to tell. I’d spent the first sixteen years of mylife in destitute poverty only to run away and end up in regular poverty as a single mother with a newborn child.
It was definitely weird, though, because Remy didn’t really fit my idea of how a rich person was supposed to act. Maybe I knew a bit less about the world than I thought I did.
Another reason not to get carried away with those silly feelings. We were from different worlds, and although the holidays allowed us a brief window to visit each other in the name of Christmas cheer, soon that window would close and we’d likely never see each other again.
“Haha, yeah, I barely use this thing,” Remy said, nodding at the rolling suitcase.
I instantly felt guilty again about thinking anything negative about him. He’d been nothing but exceedingly kind to me, so I had no reason to assume ill intent. I guessed it was just the mild reminder of my past putting me on edge.
Or maybe it was just that I was used to not relying on anyone but myself, so Remy had already broken so many of my personal rules.
“I keep telling myself that the girls and I should go on a vacation, but I don’t know, it always seems like time gets away from me. The last three years have been a complete blur with everything that’s happened.”
“Maybe this summer the three of you can go someplace special?” I said, putting my hand on his arm. I’d meant to comfort him, but the contact impacted me far more than I thought it would. His warmth was almost like a welcoming fire, and a flush spreading down my face into my neck. “I’m sure you’ve more than earned a vacation.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears,” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t even know where we’d go. Hawaii, maybe? I’ve heard a lot of things about the culture there, and I’ve always wanted to golearn about the Polynesian people. Or maybe an Alaskan cruise? I don’t know. I guess I really haven’t thought about it.”
