by Erika Wilde
With nothing left to say, Tempest brushed past the furious woman and picked up her stride to get to Remy as soon as possible.
“Jesus Christ, Mother,” Tempest heard Kyle say behind her as she kept heading for the front door. “What the hell is going on?”
Tempest refused to stick around a second longer to hear the pathetic excuses Crystal would undoubtedly come up with. There was no viable explanation to smooth over what she’d put Remy through as a child, and certainly no plausible answer or reason for abandoning a kid.
As soon as she stepped outside, she found Remy sitting in his car at the curb in the valet section, waiting for her. She slid into the passenger seat and buckled up and immediately felt the tension radiating from him. He didn’t look at her, didn’t say a word, just put the car into drive and merged out onto the street, his jaw clenched hard and his hands wrapped around the steering wheel in a tight grip.
The pain in her heart for this man was so great it hurt for her to breathe. “Remy, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t,” he bit out, stopping her before she could console or calm him.
The one word was harsh, but Tempest could only imagine the depth of hurt and rejection he was dealing with. How raw his own emotions had to be after that painful encounter with a woman he hadn’t seen or spoken to in over twenty-five years. A woman who’d looked right through him and all but denied his existence. It didn’t matter if Remy was seven or thirty-four, being ignored and spurned by your own mother was a hard, emotional blow.
The drive back to her apartment was intensely quiet, and as much as Tempest respected and understood Remy’s need to process everything that had just happened in his own way, with each minute that passed in silence, she could feel him stewing on all the insecurities his mother’s rejection had instilled in him—which his ex-wife had reinforced. Could see him withdrawing into himself and shutting her out, and Tempest’s biggest fear was that he wouldn’t let her back in.
By the time he drove into the underground parking structure and brought the car to a stop in front of the private elevator that she and her brothers used to get to their apartments, Tempest knew he’d retreated entirely.
She swallowed hard and put her hand on his arm. “Remy, come upstairs with me so we can talk about this.”
He finally glanced at her, and the look in his eyes was empty and devoid of any emotion. As if he was hardening his heart all over again when she’d just started to find her way into it. “There is nothing to talk about, and I prefer to be alone.”
There was such finality to his words, even without him saying outright that they were through, but Tempest wasn’t one to just walk away when things got tough or obstacles were put her path. Not when it came to something she wanted, and in this case, for the first time in her life, what she wanted, what she needed, was the man she’d fallen in love with. Without a shadow of a doubt, she knew that Remy, despite all those inner demons he was battling, was worth fighting for.
“I know you’re not used to counting on anyone or sharing your pain and grief, but you’re pushing me away when you need me the most,” she said, hating the desperate tone of her voice and the tears that burned at the back of her throat. “That’s not what couples who care for one another do, Remy. They lean on each other. They share their fears and insecurities, knowing that the other person will be there for them. I will always be here for you.”
“You can’t know that,” he said, his tone flat.
She knew he’d never had that kind of loyalty in his life, someone steadfast and true that he could always depend on no matter what, and in a moment of clarity, it dawned on her that he was attempting to let her go before she walked away from him, which, in his experience with women, was all he knew. Deep inside, he was still that little boy who feared being rejected by someone he loved. She already knew him that well.
She unbuckled her seat belt and turned toward him, prepared to fight for the happiness they’d created together over the past two months. The soul-deep intimacy. The fundamental connection that she’d never had with another person other than her brothers.
“What we have is special, Remy. And . . . I love you,” she confessed. She’d meant to tell him tonight, when they were alone, as part of his birthday gift, but he clearly needed to hear it now. “I know we didn’t start this relationship heading in that direction, but how could I not fall in love with a man who is so innately good, despite how bad the two previous women in your life made you feel? You are worth loving, Remy.”
He released a harsh laugh, his eyes dark and tortured. “What does a tramp like me have to offer a lady like you?”
“A lady like me?” she repeated carefully. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Someone bold and confident and who already has it all,” he said, waving a hand between the two of them in the car. “A woman who doesn’t need a man in her life for anything.”
The fearful tears she’d managed to swallow back rushed forward again, this time in frustration. “No, I don’t need a man in my life,” she said, so mad at Remy for punishing himself and wanting more than anything to knock some sense into him. “But I want a man in my life. Big difference. I want a man to stand by my side and be my equal. To share the good and bad times with me and who’ll support me and all my endeavors. I want a man to build a life with and have a family with. I want that with you, Remy.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I am not that man, and this isn’t one of your fairy tales, Tempest.”
She flinched at his words, at the sting they left behind that only served to ramp up her anger. “Yes, it is. It’s my fairy tale. Not anyone else’s. Mine. And I get to choose how it ends and with whom. I want that happily ever after with you, Remy.”
His expression remained resolute. “And that’s not something I can give you.”
She didn’t understand how he could be so obtuse. How could he just throw away what they had without a fair chance? Despite trying to hold them back, the hot tears filling her eyes spilled over and she quickly swiped them away, but now that the dam had broken, she couldn’t stop the flow.
Still, she lifted her chin, trying to retain some pride. “Are you really going to let your mother and Rachel and what they did to you have that kind of control over your life and your future with me?” she asked, though she didn’t expect an answer. “Are you going to let them keep you paralyzed with fear and insecurities to the point that you spend the rest of your life alone?”
She balled her hands into fists to keep from pounding on his chest. “Goddammit, Remy, your mother might have crushed your hopes and dreams and happiness when you were a child, but do not give her the power to steal it as an adult.”
His lips remained pursed, his eyes conflicted. With nothing else to say, she dashed away more tears, then opened the car door, stepped out, and closed it behind her, feeling even more gutted when he didn’t call her name to stay. To talk this through. To work it out. To believe that she would never cause him the kind of pain his mother and Rachel had.
She’d left everything on the table, including her heart. If that wasn’t enough to convince him that she was in this for the long haul, then she didn’t know what would.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Remy slammed his hand down on the steering wheel and released a stream of expletives that did nothing to make him feel better. What the hell was wrong with him that he’d just let Tempest walk away after she’d poured her heart out to him? But he knew the answer to that question . . . he was honest-to-God afraid that loving Tempest, and losing her, would destroy him.
And that’s exactly how he felt right now. Like a man who one minute had it all and the next moment had nothing but shambles at his feet. Tempest had offered him everything a man could ever want, and he’d let old fucking insecurities that had been dredged up by his mother’s unexpected appearance at the restaurant mess with his head and his emotions.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against his seat, silently berating himself. Two in
credible months with Tempest, and he’d just thrown away everything they’d shared—the intimacy and bond they’d created between them, the trust and mutual respect they’d forged together—all because years of self-doubts had sabotaged his ability to believe someone like Tempest could love someone like him.
But she had, and did . . . and he groaned at his stupidity when he recalled her heartfelt and shocking declaration. She’d fallen in love with him, baggage and all, and was he now really going to throw away the chance at something so precious and rare?
No, you’re not, you idiot, his conscience informed him, and along with that came a sense of clarity. Remy couldn’t change his past, but he no longer wanted to be a victim of his own memories, fears, and insecurities. What he did want, more than anything, was a future of hope and possibilities, with Tempest—not the existence of regret and fear and loneliness he’d been living before she’d stormed into his life.
He needed her. He wanted her. He loved her. And he needed to tell her and hoped she forgave him for letting her walk away.
The opening of the passenger-side door startled Remy out of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes, so grateful that Tempest had returned so they could talk.
“Tempest—”
“Nope,” a deep male voice cut him off, and Remy watched as Maddux folded his big frame into the car.
Jesus Christ. Remy stared in confusion at the other man, and even though the two of them were friends, he didn’t much care for the intimidating glare on Maddux’s face. “Uh, what are you doing?”
Maddux cracked his knuckles, then pointed out the windshield to all the security cameras in the underground parking structure. “See all those?” he asked but clearly didn’t expect a reply. “Lots of cameras watching the area, and you want to know what I saw on one of my monitors in my apartment office just a short while ago? Tempest, crying, as she left your car and rode the elevator up to her place.” He returned his hard stare back to Remy. “Didn’t we have a conversation about you hurting my sister?”
“That’s what I was trying not to do,” Remy said, then realized how bad that sounded. “I was ending things because I had a momentary lapse of judgment.” Yeah, that didn’t sound much better.
Maddux arched a dark brow. “Momentary?”
“Yes.” God, he couldn’t believe he was explaining this personal situation to Tempest’s brother, but clearly Maddux was concerned for his sister and Remy had to respect that. “Look, I had some issues in my past that came to a head tonight, and I handled everything the wrong way. Hurting your sister is the last thing I ever want to do.”
Maddux considered that for a moment, before the dangerous look in his eyes dissipated. “I get it. A lot of us have shitty things that have happened in our past, but if I can fall in love with a woman who is the daughter of the man who murdered our parents, then you should be able to put aside whatever issues you’re dealing with, because you will not find a more loyal, dependable, devoted woman than Tempest in your lifetime.”
“I know,” Remy said, meaning it.
Maddux smirked. “If you were a real asshole, she would have kicked you to the curb way before now, so don’t fuck it up a second time with her, okay?” He hesitated a moment, then met Remy’s gaze in a mutual understanding. “Just make my sister happy, man. That’s all I want for her.”
“I intend to,” Remy promised.
But first, he had some groveling to do.
With the use of Maddux’s private key card, Remy rode up the elevator with the other man, nervous about the reception he was going to get as the doors opened on Tempest’s floor.
Maddux gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Good luck,” he said, grinning.
“Yeah, thanks,” Remy muttered, and walked out into the foyer. The elevator doors closed behind him, taking Maddux two floors up to his apartment.
A few steps in, he found Tempest in the living room. She frowned when she saw him. She was still wearing that sexy red dress, though she’d taken off her shoes, and she crossed her arms over her chest, giving him the distinct impression that she now had her walls up. Definitely his fault, and he felt like a dick for putting that chasm between them.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone wary. “I thought you’d be long gone by now.”
“I seriously thought about it,” he admitted as he took off his sports jacket and draped it over the back of one of the barstools in the kitchen, then slowly walked toward her, hating the cautious look in her eyes since he was directly responsible for putting it there. “But it didn’t take me long after you got out of my car to realize I’d royally fucked up.”
“Yes, you did.”
He stopped about a foot away from her, and she tipped her chin up, so strong and stubborn and beautiful. He saw the moisture still on her cheeks from her tears, and his gut twisted with regret.
“I’m so sorry I made you cry,” he said, reaching out and wiping away a bit of wetness with his thumb. “I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you. I don’t ever want to hurt you, Tempest.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” she corrected him with an incredulous laugh. “These were angry tears, you jerk! Because I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to get through to you and . . . I might lose you for good.”
He folded her into his arms, and she was stiff against him at first, then her body gradually softened against his. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised her, breathing in the familiar scent clinging to her skin. The one he wanted to wake up to every single day. “I want this, Tempest. I want you, so much it scares me.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek on his chest. “I want everything with you, Remy. You’re the one I want to come home to every day. The one I sleep with at night. The one who knows all my secrets and calms all my fears.” She lifted her head and met his gaze. “But I know this has been fast for you, and I’m willing to be patient and take everything one day at a time until you fall in love with me, too.”
“I’m already there.” The surprise that lit her eyes made him smile. “I love you, Tempest Wilder. I know I’m a work in progress. I know my insecurities and fears haven’t magically disappeared, but I’m done living in the past. From here on out, it’s all about my future with you. Our future.”
“I like the way that sounds.” She lifted up on her toes and touched her lips to his, gentle and soft, but he ached for so much more.
Feeling ridiculously happy, he smiled against her mouth and reached for the zipper at the back of her dress, drawing it down the curve of her spine. “I believe you still have one birthday present left to give me.”
Before he could push the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders and see what she’d worn beneath, she stepped away, took his hand, and led him to the couch. With her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him down until he was sitting on a cushion. Then she straightened and shimmied out of her dress, until she was wearing nothing more than a bra and panty set that made his mouth go dry . . . a bra that had cutouts for her nipples to make them easy to suck on and crotchless panties to make it easy to fuck her. He was pretty sure he’d died and gone to heaven.
He groaned his appreciation, and grabbing her by the hips, he drew Tempest to him until she was straddling his lap. With his hands tangled in her hair, he kissed her, until they were both breathless.
“Happy birthday, Remy,” she said, smiling down at him. “I love you.”
She was the best birthday gift ever, and he reveled in her unconditional love. Her kind heart. And the fact that she was all his.
Epilogue
Six months later . . .
Wilder Things was complete and everything Tempest dreamed it would be and so much more. She strolled through the bar area, greeting the select guests that had been invited to the pre-opening night party, a sense of pride and accomplishment rushing through her like the best kind of adrenaline. All her close family and friends were there, along with the press and a food and wine magazine photographer, who was snapping pictu
res of the signature cocktails, appetizers, and the trendy but stylish décor that was both elegant and sophisticated.
She caught sight of her brothers standing together with their now-wives, Arabella and Elle, laughing and talking to a few people they knew, including Remy, who was hanging out with her family while Tempest worked the room and gave interviews to the press in attendance. Both Maddux and Hunter had gotten married over the past few months in small, intimate ceremonies, and Tempest couldn’t be happier for all of them. She was hoping that soon she’d have nieces and nephews to spoil.
A few hours into the evening, when Tempest felt as though she could finally relax and enjoy herself, a pair of strong arms circled around her from behind and warm, familiar lips pressed against the side of her neck. The scent of Remy’s cologne filled her senses and made her shiver with desire.
“Have I told you how radiant you look tonight?” he murmured into her ear, his hands lightly skimming over her hips encased in the new red dress she’d bought specifically for tonight.
She bit her bottom lip as her body automatically responded to his touch. “Umm, a few times, yes.” The compliments had started as soon as she’d walked out of her bedroom and Remy had seen her in the dress for the first time.
“Or how proud I am of you?” he asked huskily.
She smiled to herself. “Yes,” she said, though she couldn’t have accomplished everything without him.
“Or how much I love you?”
Tempest turned around in his arms and met his warm, affectionate gaze. “Yes, though that one never gets old.”
He lightly kissed her lips. “I’m glad, since you’ll be hearing it very often and for a very long time.”
This man had come a long way in the past six months since the night he’d run into his mother on his birthday. Now, his heart was completely open to Tempest, without any reservations. He was her lover, her confidant, and her best friend, and she felt how much he adored her every single day.
