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“I would never intentionally hurt her.” Remy exhaled a deep breath. “Our relationship is all very new, but we have a mutual understanding.”
“As do you and I,” Maddux stated, and slapped Remy on the back, his smile more intimidating than cordial. “Make sure you don’t break her heart, or else you’ll have two very pissed-off brothers to deal with.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Remy held Tempest’s hand as they walked into a trendy restaurant in Manhattan on a Saturday evening. Definitely a far cry from O’Brien’s, or any other kind of eatery he normally frequented, but Tempest insisted on them going somewhere “nice” to celebrate his birthday. He could have ordered in a pizza and been perfectly content staying at home with her, but because this woman he was falling so hard for rarely asked anything of him, Remy was happy to indulge her.
Hell, he was happy, period. More so than he could ever remember being, and knew his outlook on life had everything to do with Tempest. Every single thing about her made his life brighter, more meaningful, and more optimistic. She was smart, playful, sexy as hell, and just a silly, random text from her would put a goofy smile on his face, and he didn’t even care that the guys working with him on the Wilder Things project noticed.
His days at work went so much faster when he knew he’d be spending the evening with her. He loved when she cooked for him, and his favorite way to enjoy the weekend with her was in one of their beds being totally and completely lazy . . . luxuriating in hot, satisfying sex and eating junk food while binge watching shows on Netflix.
Their relationship had definitely moved from the casual affair they’d agreed on nearly two months ago to something deeper and more emotionally intimate, and while the L word hadn’t yet come into play between them, Remy knew it was there inside him, trying to work its way out.
He couldn’t deny that the feelings Tempest evoked in him were scary as hell because they were so strong and undeniable and felt bigger than him, yet it was his own fears and insecurities that kept him from being all in. The what-ifs that taunted him in the back of his head, making him question if he could truly keep Tempest as happy as they were in this moment for years to come. Could he give her everything she wanted and deserved, or was he already too emotionally damaged to be the kind of man she needed in her life?
“Lowell, party of two,” the hostess announced, startling him out of the thoughts that had no place in his head tonight. “Your table is ready. Right this way.”
Remy let Tempest precede him, which provided him with the opportunity to take in the backside of the red dress she’d worn that hugged her lush figure like a glove . . . the indentation of her waist, the flare of her hips, and the sweet curves of her ass. And when she turned around to slide into the small, intimate circular booth for two, he was treated to the low dip of her bodice that teased him with a provocative amount of cleavage. Coming or going, Tempest Wilder made his dick stand up and take notice.
Once the hostess left them alone, they perused the menu, and when the waiter came by, Remy treated himself to two fingers of a high-end bourbon, while Tempest opted for a fruity martini from the cocktail menu. For dinner, he ordered the rib eye, and she selected the salmon.
With their drinks, they toasted to his birthday, and Tempest’s eyes sparkled happily over the rim of her glass as she took a sip. Then she smiled at him.
“You look very handsome tonight,” she said, taking in his attire.
“Just tonight?” he teased, something that now came easily with Tempest.
She gave him a coy look that contradicted the bold, confident woman he knew her to be. “On a day-to-day basis, you’re fucking hot, Remy Lowell,” she said, drawing his gaze to the red lipstick she’d worn. “But yeah, tonight, dressed in a pair of slacks and a sports coat and your hair all trimmed and combed, you look handsome. And just for the record, I’ll take you both ways, because while you look nice and civilized on the outside, I know what an animal you are once it’s all stripped away.”
He laughed, because it was true. She brought out the sexual animal in him and loved every dirty, wicked thing he did to her.
“While we’re waiting for our dinner, here’s a little something for your birthday,” she said, pulling a wrapped package from her purse and setting it on the table in front of him.
Remy stared at the gift, all covered in bright, celebratory paper and topped with a bow, suddenly feeling self-conscious as he glanced back up at Tempest, who wore a soft smile. “I told you not to get me anything.”
“I only listen to your orders in the bedroom,” she said impudently. “It’s nothing big or expensive, but it’s . . . meaningful. And the first of many, I hope.”
Curiosity piqued, he peeled the paper away, revealing a five-by-seven framed photo that made him laugh because of the fun memory attached to the picture someone had taken of him and Tempest during their spaghetti kiss weeks ago. It was right at the moment where their lips touched, and they were looking into each other’s eyes, genuinely happy smiles on their faces.
“I love it,” he said, his voice husky with emotion, because her gift meant more to him than she could imagine. It wasn’t the cost, it was the pure sentiment. “Thank you.”
She took another sip of her martini, her eyes gentle and kind. “You don’t have anything personal in your apartment, no photos of important people in your life, and hopefully this will be a start.”
A start for them, he wondered? “I’d like that.” He leaned over and kissed her, the kind that was soft and sweet and delivered a dozen other feelings he found hard to verbally express.
When he finally pulled back, she gave him a sassy look. “Now, as for your other present, that one you’ll have to wait to unwrap later, but I will tell you that what I’m wearing beneath this dress, I designed just for you to enjoy for your birthday.”
He groaned, his imagination already kicking into overdrive. He placed a hand on her knee and slipped his fingers beneath the hem of her dress, teasing her with a light caress that made her gasp and smack his hand away.
She arched a chastising brow at him, which did nothing to conceal the sinful, teasing gleam in her eyes. “I know you want to dip your fingers into the frosting like a bad boy, but dinner first.”
He chuckled, just as the waiter arrived with their meals. The other man set their plates on the table, and for the next half hour, he and Tempest enjoyed what they’d ordered and talked about Wilder Things, which was her favorite topic of conversation these days. She was always running new ideas by him, and he honestly couldn’t wait to see this place when it was done, decorated, and furnished. She’d come up with a unique and sexy idea that people were going to love, and it would undoubtedly become a hot spot in Williamsburg.
When the waiter came back to clear away their dishes, he offered them the dessert menu. He’d already learned that Tempest wasn’t one to pass up anything sweet, and wasn’t surprised when she grinned at him.
“Want to share the white chocolate mousse?” she asked him.
“Sure.” He’d take a few bites and leave the rest for her to enjoy.
