Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Gentry
Irest my hip against the edge of the counter as I bring the steaming hot coffee mug up to my mouth and take a sip.
My gaze is fixed out the kitchen window.
My grandson is running back and forth, chasing their dog, while his dad unloads supplies into the barn.
It’s normally something I’d take care of, given that it’s the weekend, but in taking my doctor’s advice, I’ve been trying to be better about delegating more.
Tucker’s wearing his cowboy boots over his sweatpants, scuffed at the toes from chasing calves and kicking rocks, and the cowboy hat on his head is crooked and has seen better days.
I smile at the sight. That boy is a ranch kid, through and through.
He’s grown up with dirt between his toes and dust in his hair more often than not.
Sometimes when I’m watching him, I swear I’m looking in a time machine.
Tucker is the spitting image of his dad, just like Finn was the spitting image of me when I was a boy.
This ranch has raised generations of Moore men.
If I wasn’t so annoyed, I’d go out there and join them, but I’ve been in a sour mood since I opened my eyes this morning and found the other side of my bed empty.
And not just empty, but cold too. I knew he’d leave this morning, but I’d planned on making us breakfast before sending him off.
In hindsight, it’s probably for the best that he left before sunrise.
If he would’ve woken up with me, there’s no way he would’ve been able to sneak out of here without getting caught by Finn.
I should feel thankful that our night remained a secret, but all I feel is disappointment.
Setting my coffee on the counter, I meander through the house, toward my bedroom.
Most mornings, I make my bed first thing, but Remington’s absence is messing with my head.
Or rather, my reaction to his absence. After I finish tucking the comforter, I fluff both pillows, but stop in my tracks when I get to the one Remington used.
His scent surrounds me, sending heat down my spine.
Last night didn’t go how I thought it would.
I opened up to him in ways I’ve never done before, but I don’t regret it.
I don’t regret any of it. And I don’t feel ashamed about who it was in my bed last night.
I keep waiting for it to kick in. The guilt for sleeping with my son’s best friend, the shame for finding comfort in a man half my age, and a little bit of both for how badly I want it to happen again.
The only thing I regret is that I insisted it be just for one night.
It felt so goddamn good to touch another man’s body. To have him touch me. It’s been way too long since I’ve had that, and even longer since I’ve felt that level of intimacy. Actually, now that I think about it, I’m not sure if I’ve ever experienced intimacy and sex like that.
With June, the one time we had sex, it was awkward and all wrong.
We were doing it to prove something to ourselves, one way or another.
And sure, we’ve had our share of intimate moments together—bringing both our sons into this world, leaning on each other for emotional support through grief, and loss, and backbreaking times—but platonic intimacy can’t beat physical, emotional, bone-deep intimacy that makes you forget how to think.
And the men I’ve been with in the past have all been fleeting. They were a means to an end; a night of sweaty, meaningless sex to scratch an itch that I rarely thought about after they were gone.
But with Remington… I don’t know. It’s like for the first time I’m finally realizing how truly alone—and lonely—I am, and how much I don’t want that.
Aside from my kids’ mom, I’ve been single my whole life.
I’ve never had somebody to lean on for comfort, never had someone to look forward to going home to.
I’ve never been in real, earth-shattering, life-altering love.
I loved June—I still do and probably always will—but it’s different.
I love who she is, what she helped me understand about myself, and I love her for giving me the two greatest joys I ever could’ve asked for.
Even if it’s unconventional, Remington has somehow given me hope that maybe I don’t have to be alone.
He’s given me the comfort and safety of being true to myself.
In just one night, Remington has made me feel more than I’ve felt in decades, and I don’t want to give that up.
I may have said this was a one-time thing to get him out of my system, but to hell with what I said.
Over the last few months, he’s been there for me in ways I didn’t even know I needed.
Even when I pushed him away and tried to shut him out.
And now, after what we shared, I can’t imagine going back to how things used to be.
I’ve had one night with Remington, and now I want them all. Or, at the very least, I want the opportunity to explore this on a deeper level and see where it goes. I can’t shake the feeling that I’d be doing myself a disservice by brushing this off and forcing myself to move on like I said I would.
I can’t.
And I don’t want to.
With my mind made up, I hop in the shower and get dressed, deciding to drive to the firehouse where Remington is.
I need to tell him where my mind is at, and I can’t wait.
Nerves bubble in my stomach the whole way there.
I have no idea what I’m going to say. Nothing I come up with in my head sounds right, but I have to say something.
I park my truck next to Remington’s and force myself to take a deep breath as I walk inside. The lobby is empty, thankfully, save for Chandler, one of Remington’s fellow firefighters, behind the desk. She glances up from her computer as I approach, a warm smile greeting me.
“Hey, Mr. Moore. What can I help ya with?”
“Was hopin’ to speak with Remington for a minute, if he’s free.”
“Sure thing! Let me grab him.”
Chandler disappears up the stairs, returning a minute later with Remington in tow.
His brows are raised in confusion, but he’s wearing a smirk that makes my stomach flip.
I’ve seen him in his uniform hundreds of times over the years, but it wasn’t until very recently that I realized how sexy he looks in them.
My mouth waters as he walks over to me, and I catch a whiff of his shampoo.
“Everythin’ all right?” he asks, keeping his tone even in front of his co-worker.
“Everything’s fine,” I murmur before lowering my voice and asking, “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
The corner of his mouth twitches. Nodding, he says, “Yup, follow me.” Remington leads me down the hall, into a conference room.
Once inside, he shuts the door, and my pulse hammers when I hear the sound of the lock clicking.
He walks confidently across the room, resting his ass on the edge of the long table.
Folding his arms over his chest, he regards me with amusement and something more meaningful in his gaze.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he drawls.
I huff a breath. “Yeah, well, me neither.”
“So, what do ya need?”
It’s impossible to miss the lack of his usual flirty self as he sits in front of me.
No mention of the night we spent, no inappropriate nicknames, not even a shameless gaze over the length of my body.
I don’t allow myself the chance to overthink why that is, or what it could mean.
I came here for a reason, and I’m not leaving until I get it all off my chest.
“I didn’t like wakin’ up alone this morning,” I mutter, mimicking his stance as I cross my arms over my chest.
Remington’s eyes widen, just barely. If I wasn’t paying such close attention, I would’ve missed it. “Is that right?” he asks.
Swallowing thickly, I nod. “I enjoyed last night.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “So did I.”
I blow out a breath, my heart pounding a mile a minute.
Standing here in front of him, I still don’t know what to say.
I’m not used to this. I’m a man unafraid to speak his mind.
I don’t get nervous, I don’t second guess myself, and I certainly don’t get bashful.
Yet, I’m feeling all of that right now, so I decide to just blurt it out and get it over with, no matter how foolish it might sound.
“Listen, Remington. I know what I said when we made the plan for last night. It was a one-night thing, and that’s it. But I don’t think I’m okay with that anymore.”
Clicking his tongue to his teeth, Remington shakes his head. “I knew it,” he mutters.
Confusion furrows my brow. “Knew what?”
“I fuckin’ knew you’d regret it. That’s exactly why I left before you woke up.”
“What?” My heart thumps in my chest. “No, Remington, that’s not— I don’t regret it.”
His gaze softens. “You don’t?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Not at all.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, tilting his head to the side. “I’m confused. If you’re not here to tell me it was all a mistake, then what are you doin’ here?”
I breathe out a small chuckle, my chest warming as I take him in. “To tell you I was wrong.” Taking a step toward him, then another, until I’m so close I can feel his body heat, I say, “I don’t want last night to be the only time.”
Remington’s lips part, and his eyes dilate. “Y-You don’t?”
I shake my head, running my knuckles along his scruffy jaw.
“I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me,” he says. “What are you sayin’?”
Dipping my head down, I capture Remington’s lips with mine. He freezes for half a second before leaning into me and kissing me back. I lick into his mouth, my tongue slowly tangling with his as I feel his hands curl into fists on the side of my shirt.
Pulling back, I rest my forehead against his, breathing him in for a moment. “I’m sayin’ I don’t think we’re finished yet. And if you want, I think we should explore this pull we have to one another.”