AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What can I say? I’m an overachiever.” He replaced the lid and went to the cabinets in search of bowls. “Mama taught me when I was little. Plus, I owed you a meal since I ate yours last night.”
I blinked at him, caught off guard. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I make a mean gumbo too, though I haven’t cooked much at all, not in years. I can also fry chicken so tender, you might find religion in a mere, buttery bite of it.”
“I’ll expect it tomorrow for dinner, thank you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He set the bowls next to the pot.
I chuckled. “Ma’am,” I said, flattening the As like an American would.
“How do you say it?” When I demonstrated, his face quirked. “Sounds like you’re saying ‘mom.’”
“I think that might be where you got it.”
“Figures.” He set out napkins and spoons. “Beer? Or wine?”
Genuine shock hit my face. “Wine? You have wine?”
Looking pleased with himself, he said, “Got a red and a white from the bar. Thought you might like them. Even stole a couple wine glasses so you wouldn’t have to drink out of a jelly jar.”
“A . . . what?”
“A jelly jar. Like this.” He reached into the cabinet and pulled out what looked like a faceted juice glass with a thread on top for a lid.
I shrugged. “When in Rome. I’ll take the white, please. In a jelly jar glass.”
“Whatever suits your fancy, Duchess.”
I watched him uncork the bottle, fascinated by the girth and vein density of his forearms. “It’s all very thoughtful. Is this part of your plan to break me? Put away your boots and bring me wine?”
“Why, is it working?”
“I’ll never tell.” It was. “Anyway, we’re in a truce tonight. I hope you’re not cheating. It’d be an automatic loss.”
“Girl, I am not gonna lose.”
I shrugged one shoulder, sending my cardigan over the curve to hang on my arm. “We’ll see.”
“You’d better put that shoulder away or I’m calling you the cheater.”
I pulled the thing back up, still smiling. Damn him.
He poured out as we talked and set my glass in front of me.
“No wine for you?” I asked.
He was already half in the fridge. “I’ll have a beer, thanks.”
I watched his big hand twist off the top and bring the bottle to his lips, hypnotized. The realization that I was perhaps the thirstier of the two of us stung. But it wasn’t just that.
This Remy had charmed me much like the other versions I’d met, but the one who’d made dinner and tidied up without even knowing I’d be here was my favorite. I’d never felt this sort of fluttering before. With Henry, it was the nervous flicker of wings in anticipation of a thing I’d never have. But with Remy, the fluttering felt like possibility, as real and solid as he was. This anticipation held a promise I hadn’t quite grasped. And to my wonder, I realized something.
Maybe Remy was exactly what I needed.
Maybe it’d never been Henry at all.
17
