Page 8 of Mistletoe & Magic
He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, suddenly looking tired in a way that has nothing to do with physical labor. “I just wasn’t expecting someone else to be here.”
“I figured Donna was up to something,”I say gently, standing and moving to the doorway to the hallway. “I should have tried calling you to confirm.”
He checks his phone and grimaces. “Wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Dead. Left it in the truck while I was loading orders.”
There’s a long pause. Not uncomfortable, just heavy. Like the silence between people who are strangers but also…not. Not really. Remy and I cross paths plenty. We’ve spent holidays with our family group, and I’ve seen him and Junie often. He’s just never really talked to me like this before, and I’ve never been in his space like this.
Willa and Tate have told me about Remy’s legendary pizza nights; however, I’ve never received an invitation. I’ve always been on the fringe with Remy. He keeps me at a distance, and I’ve always wondered why.
“Look,” I say, breaking the quiet. “I didn’t mean to overstep. So I’ll pack up and head over to Willa’s. It’s late, but I don’t think they’ll mind letting me crash on their couch until morning.”
He blinks as if I’ve spoken another language. “You’re not going anywhere. It’s freezing out there.”
He says it in that low, steady voice, firm and no-nonsense, the kind that does not need to get louder to make you listen. The words slide under my skin and heat coils low in my stomach.
Okay, Remy.
Apparently the quiet, broody tree farmer has a commanding streak, and my body is very much on board. Noted. Fantasies updated accordingly.
“I don’t want to impose,” I repeat, unsure of how this is supposed to go.
He doesn’t answer, just looks around the room. At the folded laundry. The clean counters, empty sink.
“Where are your bags? He asks.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m just going to walk to Willa’s. I’m sure she can just give me a ride to my mom’s…” I turn and a hand gently holds my arm and keeps me in place. My skin tingles under his hand.
“Bags,” he demands, staring at me, not giving in.
“They’re by the door. I know you don’t really like me,” I continue nervously, running my mouth like an idiot.
He freezes, and I continue… “I can just head out. I’ll figure it out.”
“What did you just say?” he asks.
“I…I’m just gonna go. It’s fine. Tell Junie I had so much fun tonight, and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay.” I turn toward the hook where my coat is hanging.
“Why do you think I don’t like you?” he asks, searching my eyes.
I stare into his and take a deep breath. “I don’t know, Remy. I’m just gonna go. I’m sorry for the mix up.”
“You should stay,” he says, voice low. “I have a guest room. It’s not fancy, but it’s clean and it’s got a full-sized bed. Finn stayed there before he moved to town.”
I blink. “You sure?”
He nods once. “Yeah. It’s late. No reason for you to wake up Willa and Tate.”
I open my mouth to say something, but he’s already stalking toward my bags. He grabs the heaviest one, picks it up like it’s nothing, grabs the rest without a word and heads down the hall.
Just like that. No argument or a thank you. Just Remy, alpha hottie Bennett, carrying my bags like a man on a mission, leaving me no choice but to follow.
The guest room smells of cedar and stale energy. Not bad, just...untouched. Like time paused here a while ago and no one pressed play again.
It’s cozy in the way before someone moves in. Blank walls.A full-sized bed tucked under a sloped ceiling. A little bathroom with a white curtain around the old-fashioned claw foot tub. There’s a heater in the corner, already humming to life as soon as Remy flips the switch.
“I haven’t been in here in a while,” he says. “The heat usually kicks in after a few minutes.”
I nod, hugging my arms close. “It’s great. Thank you.”
