“Wow,” Kendra and I both say.
“My sister is the strongest woman I know.” Remington looks at Sutton proudly. “Military life is not easy, especially on the ones that are left behind.”
Sutton gives him a knowing look. “A life of service is never easy, no matter what path you take. But this was what Derek was meant to do, and I know that he is making a difference in the world by doing it. Me and this baby, we are proud of him.” She rubs her belly again.
Conversation turns lighter as we eat our meal, and it’s a wonderful way to spend our day. Kendra is making us all laugh about a story of her misthrowing some pottery clay in her studio and the mess she made last week when we are interrupted by a voice I wish I never heard again.
“Remmmmmmy,” Cora’s nasty voice purrs.
His body stiffens at the sound, and we all turn to see the unwelcome guest approaching our table. I immediately glance over at Sutton, and she looks like she is about to simultaneously puke up her meal and use her butter knife to stab Cora.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Sutton stands, shoving her chair back with a squeak.
“Hello to you too, old bestie,” Cora says, flipping her dark hair over her bloodred dress. It is one size too small and more worn than the outfit she had on at Remington’s house. She has on the same accessories, but her shoes are black, spiked heels with scuff marks today. “I am here getting a coffee, saw my man, and came over to say hello.”
I swear Sutton’s eyes are going to pop out of her head. I want to crawl over Remington to get to Cora for calling him “her man” and scoop her eyes out with my spoon becauseabsolutely fucking not. Kendra has gone quiet, which if you know her is scary and dangerous.
Remington stands, putting a protective arm out toward Sutton and motions for her to back down. Cora takes this opportunity to give Sutton a long, unimpressed once-over.
“I know it’s been a few years, Sutton, but you really have let yourself go,” she mock whispers behind her hand. “I can give you some really good low-carb recipes to get back on track if you want.” Cora directs her eyes to the table of food we just had, nose scrunched.
“Oh no she fucking didn’t,” Kendra yelps, tossing her napkin down.
“Don’t,” Remington says, his tone deathly calm.
“Remmy, I think it’s time we go someplace quiet.” She glances over his shoulder at the rest of us, giving me a nasty look. “Alone. So we can discuss our situation. We have a lot of planning to do.” She looks back to him with an unnatural smile, showing too many teeth, red lipstick smudged on her front tooth.
“Cora, I have nothing to discuss with you now or ever.” Her face turns sour, smile evaporating into a scowl. “And most importantly, I amnotyour man.” Remington steps back and loops his arm possessively around my waist.
My whole body hums, this move by him screamingminemore than me scooping Cora’s eyeballs out with a spoon would.
“I will get my lawyer involved if I need to,” Cora seethes.
Remington barks out a laugh. “You are off your goddamn rocker if you think some playground pact between children holds any kind of weight in the eyes of the law. Leave me the fuck alone, Cora. This is the last time I’m gonna warn you nicely.”
He throws down more than enough money to cover our whole bill, plus a generous tip. Kendra loops her arm through Sutton’s and they walk away. Remington leads me from the table and Cora yells after us, “It was always supposed to be you and me, Rem. This whole town knows it. You are the only one that needs reminding.”
Ignoring her, we walk into the sunshine, and I have a sick feeling that my dream of never seeing her again won’t come true. Someone like that doesn’t let go of things, even things that clearly don’t belong to them anymore.
25
Remington
The only time I have been able to work on Lainey’s journal is when I am at the fire station. I don’t want to let her see anything until I am totally done with it, so taking the journals home isn’t an option. Every night I’m not working, we are at my house. She was staying at her place when I was at the station and then my house when I was home, but that changed, too.
I want her in my space all the time, even if I am not there—it just feelsright. I gave her a key last week and asked her to stay whenever she wanted. Her stunning smile and hungry kiss were answer enough to show me how she felt about it.
My dining room table has officially become Lainey’s office. I cleared out half of my dresser for her, and I already had plenty of closet space for her to add whatever she wanted. Her make-up bag on my bathroom counter looks like it has lived there all along. Her honey-scented shampoo sits in the shower, and her favorite tea is next to my coffee in the kitchen. We even have a mix of Kendra’s mugs added to the cupboards.
Melding our lives together in these little ways felt easy and comfortable. Besides the drama with Cora, the mostuncomfortable thing is dealing with the idea of Lainey’s family. My parents, and sister obviously, have welcomed Lainey into the fold without question. She is very happy and relaxed anytime we go to my parents’ house. She and Sutton are becoming super close, and I love that for both of them. Everyone at the fire station is very excited that I finally have the kind of relationship I always wanted but never had the balls to pursue after college.
Lainey’s mother and father got a divorce a few years ago, and her mother moved back to Fox Grove where she grew up. According to Lainey, her mother probably would have stayed with Patrick Quinn forever had he not been the one to leave her for a younger woman. The whole thing was a shameful mess, and her mom didn’t want to stay in DC. Of course Patrick didn’t care about the repercussions of his actions for his family or the younger woman, a relationship that only lasted a year.
The relationship Lainey has with her mom has always been strained and uncomfortable. I had yet to meet her, and today was the first time that was going to happen. Lainey, understandably, was a ball of nerves, her anxiety on full display rippling through the house as we got ready and now wrapping around us.
“We’ve gone over like ten different talking points. I won’t talk about your dad. I know not to bring up the Newell Christmas party of 2015, even though I have no clue who those people are or why it was so traumatic. I don’t think we really need to prep this hard for a simple dinner with your mom, Lainey.” I take her hand in mine. We are in my truck as we drive to her mom’s house in a nice neighborhood on the north side of town.
“Remington,” Lainey sighs with nervous exasperation. “I told you, going over everything helps prepare for what she might say or what might happen. Any compliment I get isbackhanded, and she is critical ofallmy choices. You won’t be any different.”
