Page 32 of One Night Bride
I shushed him by putting my finger across his lips. His eyes widened at the intimate touch. “It’s okay. I get it. You had to do something and your plan, as insane as it was, worked brilliantly. Thank you.”
I spun away to grab a trash bag from under the kitchen sink. We had a mess to clean up. Remington followed me, taking the bag out of my hands and following me around as I picked up leftover cups and plates.
“Really? That’s it? You’re not mad?”
I threw a handful of dirty napkins into the bag he held for me. “No, I’m not mad. I mean, at first I was. I made a mental list of at least five ways I wanted to kill you just with the things I had available in the living room. But no, I’m not mad any longer.”
He put a hand on his bare chest and I couldn’t help the extra second my eyes took to stare at his muscles before focusing on cleaning up again.
“I feel like I should still say I’m sorry a few more times. Like maybe your ‘I’m not mad’ is girl code for ‘it’s fine,’ which we all know means the opposite.”
I tried to hold back the smile, but couldn’t. He really was charming. The asshole.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He threw a half-eaten dessert in the trash and eyed me wearily. “Sure…”
“Why do you want out of the ranch so badly? Why do you want to run this nonprofit instead?” I felt like maybe if I understood his line of thinking, I could more readily agree to try this dating thing for real.
Remington set down the trash bag and went to work on picking up the pillows scattered all over the floor. “I love the family ranch, I really do. But I don’t feel like it challenges me anymore. It’s great physical work, but I also want to challenge my brain. And I guess I just feel like there’s more I could be doing to help the world in general, rather than just give them good steak to eat, you know?”
I cringed, thinking of those poor cows I’d seen on his ranch ending up on someone’s dinner plate.
“Don’t go city girl on me,” he said, teasing me.
I threw a pillow at him and it hit him square in the chest. He grinned and kept picking up.
“So, what’s your nonprofit all about?”
His face changed as he thought about it. His eyes glowed, and he talked with a passion I recognized. “I want to help boys that don’t have a father. Killam needed someone to show him how to be a man, and I was lucky enough to fill that role for him. But I know there’s plenty of other little boys out there that need that too. They need more than just a teacher to show them how to live.”
“What kinds of things would you do?”
Remington mashed a pillow in his hands, excitement jumping off his skin. “All those little things that slip through the cracks. Like how to fish. How to tie a damn necktie for an interview. How to change a tire. And all the intangible things too, like how to argue respectfully and how to ask for what you want. How to be an honorable man who gives something to society, rather than takes.”
I’d long stopped cleaning up, just stood there watching him speak about something that obviously came from his heart. He was a handsome man, hot enough I’d jumped him in a public bathroom just a few minutes after meeting him, but tonight, when he talked about his business idea while helping me clean up, that’s when I fell for him. The man behind all the muscles and the blue eyes brighter than the summer sky.
“Remington?” I walked toward him, reaching out to pull the pillow from his hands and toss it on the floor.
“Yeah?” He looked at me like he’d forgotten I was in the room.
I reached up and laid my palm against the back of his neck, tugging gently as I went up on my tiptoes. His eyes widened right before mine slid shut and our lips connected. He froze, but I didn’t care that I’d surprised the hell out of him. I had to kiss him. Had to taste those lips that spoke so passionately about helping others.
In the next second, his arms wrapped around me and he tilted his head to get better access. He lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, our lips still fused together. He started walking to the couch, but I had a better idea.
I broke away from the kiss and tried to catch my breath to speak. “My bedroom. Now.”
He didn’t ask me to repeat myself. Somehow, he got us up the stairs with my legs still wrapped around him tight and teasing those lips. When the bedroom door shut behind us, I didn’t know if I could get these clothes off fast enough. All I wanted was him. In me. Over me. Surrounding me.
I was finally ready to admit I wanted more.
More Remington.
More us.
15
Esme
