“The car is here.”
“Car? Did someone bring your car up from long term?”
“No. Brock dropped me off, he was going to pick me up, too. Come on, you’ll like him.”
The car was fancier than a cab, sleek and black, but not quite a limo. Still they drew a few stares as the driver, James, helped them load their bags into the trunk.
“Where’s your friend?” Tara whispered.
“I guess Brock is waiting in the car. He is the Mayor so sometimes reporters, or even random people with cellphones come bother him.”
“Actually, Brock stayed home,” James said. He smiled at them. “He said it would be late and he didn’t think the two of you would be in the mood for visiting. I’m to drop you off at your apartment – or anywhere else you’d like to go.”
“The time zones have messed up my eating schedule,” Tara said.
“You think you can run us through a burger place?” Remy asked.
“I know a good one close by. Climb in.” He opened the door for them.
“Thanks, James. Any emergencies I should know about before the meeting tomorrow?”
“Nope. They were quiet as kittens.”
Remy clapped James on the shoulder and got into the back seat with Tara. He shot Brock a text message as they travelled, thanking him for the car and driver. He got a hearty, “any time” followed by “enjoy your evening” and a lot of winking faces. He rolled his eyes and put the phone away.
James helped unload the trunk but Remy insisted he leave the bags on the sidewalk. “We can get it all upstairs ourselves,” he said.
“If you insist. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“What’s going on tomorrow?” Tara said.
“The clan meeting. I did mention that, didn’t I?” Remy said.
“You did. Is this Jules or Philippe?”
“Neither. Tara, this is James, Brock’s official driver. He also works at the Tandell house, just helps around the yard and such. So we’ll probably bump into him at the meeting.”
“I see.”
They managed to get everything to the front door with a lot of huffing and puffing and almost dropping things. Remy grabbed the shopping cart from the lobby and loaded as much into it as he could so the rest of the trip to the apartment was much easier.
He was surprised to find that he was suddenly nervous as they rode up the elevator. He knew he was in a better part of town than Jules, even Jules’ new place, and Jane, but still, it was a one-bedroom place and this wasn’t the ritzy end of town where all the apartments were condos and cost two-to-three times as much per month, easily. She’d reassured him several times on the flight over that she wasn’t looking for glitz and glamour, she was wanting to be with him.
All well and good in theory but Remy knew all too well that it was hard for people with money to understand the reality of the working class lifestyle.
He’d left the apartment tidy because Brock had volunteered to come by and get his mail and water his plant while he was out of town and he didn’t want his friend and second to be tripping over dirty laundry. He also didn’t like coming home to a sink full of dirty, smelly dishes.
Gia had not come over in his absence to redecorate, though now that he had Tara with him he was actually considering that it might have been a good thing if she had. The apartment was simple but very masculine. The only thing on his walls aside from a recent photo of his parents was a few movie posters Brock had bought him as Christmas gifts over the years. He didn’t do statues or China. His plant was some sort of vine thingy that had taken over the kitchen window sill, and the curtain rod, and had been left behind by his mother when she moved to Florida.
Tara stepped inside as he opened the door and looked around. “You have an eclectic taste in movies,” she said.
“I suppose so.”
“Makes sense, coming from a jazz lover.” She dropped her purse on the couch. “Let’s get these bags inside.”
“I can do that if you want to take a look around.”
“Don’t you want to give me the grand tour?”
“It’s not a grand place.”
“Then I will go look around.” She went to the door first and rifled through one of her bags, coming up with what looked like a second purse or hand bag. “Be back in a minute.”
He lined the suitcases up just far enough into the apartment that they weren’t blocking the door. Tara hadn’t come back yet so he yelled, “I’m going to take the cart back down.”
“All right!” came the reply.
He shrugged and went down. When he came back she was in the kitchen, leaning on the counter, a glass of water in one hand. “I thought you’d fallen down a rabbit hole or something. The apartment isn’t that big,” he said, joining her in the tiny space and wrapping one arm around her waist.
“Nope, no rabbit holes, just getting settled in.”
He glanced at the suitcases, then back at her.
She just smiled and sipped her water.
“Were you looking for my porn stash?”
“Do you have one?”
“If I say no will you not find it until after I can throw it out?”
She laughed. “I wasn’t looking for porn. Besides, the bathroom would be a strange place to hide it, don’t you think?”
One eyebrow went up in question.
“It’s late, I’m tired. Sorting clothes and closet space will take time. That can all wait a day or two.” She drained her glass and set it in the sink. “Come on. I’m tired. It was a long, stressful week. Let’s go to bed and we can worry about everything else tomorrow.”
He almost asked her what she’d been doing in the bathroom but she cut him off with a kiss and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered to either of them in this moment was getting to the bedroom and getting their clothes off.
Friday
Remy woke with the alarm and groaned. They’d gone to bed early but they’d gone to sleep late. They still couldn’t be overly loud but still, the sex had been passionate and he’d felt an overwhelming sense of possessiveness towards her. She’d kept pace with him, her need and desire as obvious as his. Maybe it was being free of her father, maybe it was not being in a strange hotel bed, but they’d both felt the difference in the sex last night.
He rolled out of bed and grabbed his clothes as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake Tara. He dragged his stuff to the bathroom and turned on the shower. The pink bottle caught his eye. Travel size shampoo, floral scent, sitting next to his drugstore brand two-in-one, generic shampoo. Tara’s.
He smiled all the way through his shower.
Her toothbrush was in the cup next to his. There was a pink razor in the medicine cabinet. He found her make-up in the drawer beside his cologne. Out of curiosity he opened the cupboard under the sink and found a now empty toiletries bag tucked behind the extra toilet paper.
He got dressed and made coffee before remembering that he was out of milk. He left a note in front of the coffee maker, doubled back to kiss Tara’s cheek, and headed off to work.
* * *
Tara woke up alone in a bed that smelled of Remy, and smiled. The whole apartment smelled like him. She tossed on the shirt he’d left on the floor and wandered around the apartment. It was empty. On her way back towards the bedroom, she spotted the half-full coffee pot and wandered into the kitchen. There was a folded piece of paper with her name on it in crisp black letters.
Tara, had to go to work this morning. I left the second set of keys on the hall table. The odd silver one is for the front door, the little brass one is for the apartment door. Left some cash, too. There’s no milk or anything else that would go bad left in the apartment.
Feel free to unpack, just shuffle things around. If you’re feeling cooped up call a cab. You can do the grocery shopping. Then we’ll have things you like, because I don’t know what to cook for you yet.
There’s a clan meeting tonight so don’t plan anything for dinner. I’ll ca
ll on my coffee break. Remy.
She smiled at the letter and poured herself some coffee. After a long hot shower, she snooped through the kitchen, making a list of things she’d like to buy. She unpacked the few outfits she’d brought and texted her mom to get a status update on the rest of her clothes.
True to his word, Remy called mid-morning with good news. “You’ve got a job interview here on Wednesday,” he said.
“I appreciate this, but ...”
“I already told you, you have to get this job on your own,” he said. “This is all the help you’re getting from me.”
Since there really wasn’t much in the apartment by way of food, she grabbed the keys and the cash and called a cab as he suggested. There was a coffee shop across the parking lot from the grocery store so she jogged over there for lunch, then went and bought groceries.
She was back at the apartment, the food put away, and her laundry in the machine when Remy got back from work. She put her phone down as he came in and said, “How was your day?”
“Long and boring. Everyone had to catch me up on everything I missed while I was away. I have two week’s worth of work to do in the next few days. And right now I just want to hold you.”
She came to him and stepped into his arms.
“I could get used to this pretty fast,” he said.
“Me too.” She took a deep breath and sighed, content. “When do we have to leave?”
“Gia’s on mat leave so we can leave whenever, she’ll be home. Why? Something on your mind?”
“Just waiting for the washing machine. I need to swap it into the dryer before I can go anywhere.”
“I see you made yourself at home.”
“I’m sorry, I was kind of bored and I thought ...”
He squeezed her. “No, it’s okay. I like it. I was worried, you know? I’ve lived alone here since I moved out of my parent’s house. I wasn’t sure I’d adjust to having someone else living here with me.”
“I might still drive you crazy.”
He chuckled. “You most certainly will, but I don’t think I’ll mind. We’ll fight about where the plates go and who has to wash the dishes and how often we can afford to eat out but I don’t think I’ll mind the hassle.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re very romantic?”
“No, surprisingly not. How long until the machine needs changing?”
“Not sure, exactly. Why?”
He kissed her deeply.
“Oh. Yeah, we should have time for a little of that.”
* * *
“Are we the first ones here?” Tara said as they pulled into Brock’s driveway.
“Probably. But I wanted to be early. Then you can meet everyone in ones and twos as they come in instead of being last and getting overwhelmed.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”
The door was opened before they’d reached it and a middle-aged woman was waiting for them. She was dressed in soft, comfortable clothes and had her greying hair pulled back from her face. “Remy, how was your trip?”
“More exciting than I had planned. I’m sure Brock’s been teasing you with vague hints.” He hugged her. “Tara, this is Connie. She’s Brock’s housekeeper and she kept him out of trouble after his parents died. Connie, this is Tara Brown of Boston.”
“Oh, I’m just pleased as ever to meet you. That Bryce is a nice fellow and all but it’s so nice to get another girl around here. I felt sorry for Jane, no matter what she says about being fine with a bunch of men around.” Connie took Tara by the arm and led her inside. “But come inside, I’ll get you a drink. You’re going to love New Orleans.”
Tara looked over her shoulder as she was led away. Remy just smiled and waved.
“And this is Gia, Brock’s wife,” Connie was saying as they entered the living room.
“Connie, the poor girl looks like a deer in a set of headlights.”
“I can’t help it, I get excited. I’ll fetch some punch.”
“Unless you want a beer or something?” Gia put in.
“Uh, just punch for now is fine.”
Connie bustled out.
“Don’t mind her, she’s overbearing but in the best of ways. Soon you won’t remember what it was like not having her in your life.”
Tara glanced around. “I was expecting ... more.”
“Oh, you mean the cheap couches? We moved the antique ones to the parlor that no one ever uses and put these in because someone is almost walking now and usually has very sticky hands.”
Someone stuck his head out from around the corner of the couch and grinned a toothless, chubby grin.
“Oh, he’s darling!”
Remy put his shoes away, gave Connie his drink order, and found Tara on the floor in the living room playing with Gia and Brock’s son. The little guy had the same dark hair as his parents and the same round cheeks Remy remembered from Brock’s baby pictures. It was likely the little guy would inherit his father’s wide frame and not his mother, and grandfather’s, finer build.
“How was your trip?” Gia asked.
“I’m going to hear that a lot tonight.. it was exciting and I’ll tell you all about it when everyone gets here.”
“Shouldn’t be long. Brock already called that he’s on his way home and Jules should only be five minutes behind him.”
There was a knock on the door.
“And that should be Jane.”
“Is she bringing Bryce?” Remy settled on the arm of the couch where he could be close to Tara.
“She was planning on it.”
The voice around the corner was masculine so Tara was expecting two people, Jane and Bryce, instead a massive man in a black shirt that looked ready to tear.
“Philippe. You beat Jane here.”
“I was hoping to. I was also hoping to check in and then head out.”
“Do you work?”
“No, sir. Just wanted to avoid the drama.”
“I know it’s only been a few weeks, Philippe, and I’m not asking you to forgive her, but this meeting can’t be summed up for you. I would really like you to stay.”
“Sure, boss.”
Connie came in with punch and a couple of beers. “Here you go. Is there anything else?”
“You’re doing everything again,” Gia said. “I’m perfectly capable of helping, you know. I’m not waddling yet.”
The room fell silent, except for the baby rattle.
Remy cleared his throat. “You did mean to say that you don’t waddle anymore, correct?”
Gia’s cheeks went bright red.
“You’re pregnant again!?” Remy said, loud enough to startle the baby.
“You let the cat out of the bag, didn’t you?” said a man in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, it just slipped out. Connie was mothering me again.”
“You won’t be able to stop her,” he said, crossing the room and kissing her cheek. He turned to Tara. “You must be Remy’s Tara.”
She scrambled to her feet. “Yes. And you’re Brock Tandell.”
“That is correct.” They shook hands.
“We’re almost all here,” Remy said. “Why don’t we move to the kitchen and start setting the table?”
The doorbell rang again. “I’ve got it,” Connie said but they could hear the door opening before she even got out of the living room. Gia, Brock, and Philippe followed close behind and soon the hallway was full of happy voices.
“How are you doing?” Remy said, taking Tara’s hand.
“So far so good. So Philippe is huge.”
“He’s a bouncer.”
“He looks it. Brock is not what I expected and Gia is delightful. Only a few more to meet, right?”
“Right. Come on, or they’ll be teasing us like a couple of teenagers.”
Apparently Jane had been running late and Jules had been running early because the entire clan, plus significant others, was waiting for them in the kitchen.
&n
bsp; “Everyone, this is Tara Brown of Boston and she is transferring to our clan, effective immediately. And before you start, yes, we’re officially together.”
There was a round of ‘welcome’s and ‘congratulations’.
“Tara, you met Brock, Gia, and Connie, and Philippe. The short one is Jane.”
“Hey!”
“And with her is Bryce. The other giant there is Jules and his girlfriend Kaylee. Gia, Bryce, and Kaylee are all human but they’re safe. You don’t have to worry about discussing werebear stuff in front of them.”
There were hellos and handshakes all around and Connie bustled about getting food set out. They pulled all the chairs and stools up to the large kitchen island and settled in.
“Since everyone wants to know,” Remy said, bringing the meeting to order. “The conference was a success, as far as I’m concerned. A lot of people were able to voice concerns and get the help and information they needed. For me personally it was a lot more eventful than I anticipated.”
“Oh no,” Brock said. “You’re not getting off that easily. You have to tell us the whole story with as much detail as you can manage without blushing.”
“Be careful,” Tara said. “I don’t blush easily.”
Everyone laughed and Tara and Remy took turns filling in all the details of the conference and of their brief but exciting courtship.
“We’re the poster group for asshole fathers,” Jules said.
“How’s that?” Tara asked.
“Kaylee’s old man is an addict and gets nasty when he’s looking for a fix. Jane’s step-dad ...”
“Foster father,” Jane cut in.
“Sorry. Foster father. He tried to marry her off without her consent and was blackmailing members of his clan.”
“To be fair,” Jane said. “My real father was amazing.”
Jules nodded. “And my father tried to use me to overthrow Remy.”
“My parents were normal,” Philippe rumbled.
“What’s the plan from here on out?” Brock said.
“What do you mean?” Remy countered.
“For the two of you? If she’s transferring here already ...”
Remy Page 15
