Chapter 13 #4
I was so fueled by his reaction that my brain put together a list that my mouth eagerly dictated. “You ever been lonely? That’s Shakespeare. Coriolanus. Sang along with Ke$ha about swagger? A Midsummer Night’s Dream. And The Tempest strikes again with eyeball.
“Went on a wild goose chase? Romeo and Juliet—although, there’s some debate on that one.
In a pickle? The Tempest again. Bedazzled?
Taming of the Shrew.” I paused to take a breath.
“Now, there have been discussions on exactly what ‘inventing’ entails, because Shakespeare took certain parts of speech and converted them to others, like changing a noun to an adjective or using a verb as a noun. He also took words that existed in other languages and created a word for them in English that didn’t exist before.
“It’s also thought that perhaps there were certain words in common vernacular that he used for the first time in English literature—phrases and colloquialisms that were considered either uncouth or straight up unintelligent.
Shakespeare really was a man of the people, and he wrote his plays to be enjoyed by the people. ”
Finally, my common sense caught up to me. I had been prattling on and on about the old bard without letting Remy get a word in edgewise.
“Sorry, I got a little carried away there,” I said, blushing from head to toe. At least with us being inside the warm building, I could probably blame it on being overheated from still wearing all my winter layers.
“No, please don’t apologize,” Remy said. “How do you remember all that? Bondye! The mind you must have on you…”
“Bondye?”
“It basically means oh my goodness. When I’m around my family, I tend to use more of the phrases I grew up with.”
“I did notice that your accent has gotten a bit thicker.”
“Have you?” he said, raising one of his thick eyebrows at me. “What, you some kind of editor noticing this switch in my dialogue?”
“You betcha,” I said, gently nudging him with my elbow. “If you’re not careful, spell check is gonna drown you in squiggly red lines!”
“Oh no! Surely a fate worse than death! If only there was a beautiful, kind, hilarious editor around to save me from the inhumanity!”
I knew it was stupid that my heart accelerated when he called me beautiful, and I definitely knew it was stupid that all the different parts of my brain converged on those three simple syllables.
But knowing that didn’t stop my reaction anyway, so I did my best to breathe through the elation and pretend everything was normal—even though everything was not normal.
I hadn’t even known Remy for a month, and already I wanted to lean toward him every time he spoke and know his opinions on so many things.
I wanted to hear him laugh, and most of all, I wanted us all to hang out.
His kids. My kid. Holiday adventures or playdates.
It didn’t matter. I wanted to be around him, and I loathed the idea of not being in his presence.
It was way too soon for that, wasn’t it?
I had been single since Max’s father disappeared on us, mostly because I never really had space in my heart or my life for anyone else.
Sometimes, I was worried something was broken within me, but now, as I gazed up at the tall, incredibly handsome father who had ice skated—albeit barely—into my life, I realized I wasn’t broken at all.
That was probably way too big of a personal revelation to deal with at the moment, so I pushed it to the metaphorical basement of my mind, locking it in a box to deal with later.
Yeah, that was definitely the mature solution.
“Now, who do we have here, sha?”
The voice nearly startled me out of my skin. I jumped and let out a truly embarrassing yelp. Jeez, I didn’t even know I could hit that note.
I whirled to see a man in his forties with a pleasant smile on his face. He was a touch taller than Remy, with skin almost as pale as mine, and tightly curled auburn hair close to his head. “Whoa, sorry there, cheri. Didn’t mean no harm.”
“No, it’s okay.” I offered my hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jeannie.”
Smooth and most definitely not awkward in the slightest.
“This is Cuz Amédé,” Remy said, giving the other man a nod, which he returned. “Cuz, as you heard, this here is Jeannie.”
“S’a lovely name.” His blue eyes twinkled much like Remy’s, but they weren’t nearly as dashing. Probably because I was biased. “Nice to see a new face on our family lands. Please, lemme know if there’s anythin’ you need.”
Was it my imagination, or was his accent doing the opposite of what Remy’s was and lightening up because I was there? I hoped not. I didn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable with my presence.
“Don’t worry, Cuz, I got her back.”
“I’m sho ya do, sha.” His gaze flicked back to me and he winked. “Ol’ Remy LeBeau do be one of those, ki, real Prince Charmin’ types. Got the bon looks, all the charm, and beaucoup muscles, yeah?”
He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I blushed again. Yeah, I had definitely noticed Remy’s muscles. It was impossible not to. Not only was he jacked—one of his thighs was nearly as big as my waist—but he was thick in all the ways that spoke to me.
While I admired the hard work that went into bodybuilding, I wasn’t attracted to that physique—all shredded and veiny with three percent body fat or whatever.
I would always cheer them on if they were doing what they loved, but it wasn’t for me.
However, a man who looked like he was actually mighty and could handle me?
Be still my heart! Something about a double-barrel chest, that very particular stomach competitive strongmen tended to have, and shoulders broader than my hips was like a siren’s song to me. And Remy had that in spades.
“Ey, enough, enough of all that,” Remy said.
Wait, was he blushing too? It was harder to tell on the light umber of his skin, but I was pretty sure it was there. “We were just gonna get some grub. Wan’ come with?”
“Sho do. That’s why I came round anyways. Otherwise you know I’d be napping.”
“Heh, you do like your naps, Cuz.”
“Aya, at my age, I’ve earned them!”
“Your age?” I asked. “You can’t be older than your early forties.”
He let out a bellow of a laugh, and while it wasn’t identical to Remy’s, I could definitely pick up on the family resemblance. “Try sixty-three!”
“Sixty-three? Now I know you’re lying.”
Remy shook his head. “He ain’t. We all tend to look a bit younger than we are. My father still hasn’t gone gray and he’s nearly seventy.”
That was mind-boggling. While I’d dipped from my own family before I was eighteen, I remembered the compound being full of gray-haired and wrinkled people.
“I’m… I’m gonna need a minute to digest that,” I said, completely baffled.
“Speaking of digesting,” Remy said. “Food, right?”
My stomach rumbled in response, and Cuz and Remy laughed.
“Food,” I agreed, my cheeks coloring yet again—although, I wasn’t sure I’d stopped blushing this entire time. “Definitely food.”
“The lady has spoken!”
I finally remembered to look around at my surroundings. I’d been so caught up in our conversation, I forgot I was in the equivalent of a giant log mansion.
Somehow it was even more beautiful on the inside. There weren’t any overwrought, crystal chandeliers or elegant stained glass windows, but it didn’t need it. It had an understated opulence.
The ceilings were high, with natural wooden paneling between huge cedar rafters. It reminded me a bit of the chapel back on the commune, but about three times bigger and without all the uncomfortable religious allegory.
Despite its size, it wasn’t austere or unwelcoming.
And it wasn’t even intimidating, beyond the truly impressive display of carpentry skills.
Between the soft rug under our feet, the fire cracking in the hearth, as well as a comfy couch and two recliners around a coffee table, it was quite cozy.
And that wasn’t even taking into account the line of bookshelves across the other wall, complete with a reading nook.
And this was just the entry room. Absolutely wild!
We walked along a wide hallway with several doors dotted along it and openings that connected passages that led to who knew where. No wonder Remy had been so intent on giving me a tour. I could easily get turned around in here.
Thankfully, the path to wherever we were eating wasn’t that winding.
We turned left, went a short distance down another hallway before turning left again into a massive room.
It looked like a community center in one of those cozy farming games.
Three huge dining tables that could seat at least twenty each dominated the center.
Every single inch of surface area was absolutely teeming with food.
It was an all-out assault on my senses. Thousands of scents inundated my nose while my eyes delighted in all the different dishes.
Some were truly over the top, like a three-layer cake with a sleeping bear sculpture on top of it.
Some looked downright delicious, like the entire quarter end of the table that was covered with seven different variations of deviled eggs.
Smoked meats. Roasted meats. A whole turkey.
Hams. Rolls. Stuffing. Several salads—some leafy, some involving mayo, some antipasto, and even a caprese salad that looked remarkably fresh and luscious for it being the dead of winter.
It was like I had walked into the middle of a feast scene in a fantasy book with fruits, gourds, and all sorts of meat available to indulge in. I dealt with quite a few books like that in my life, and they always made me hungry.
“Well, it seems like my time has finally come.”
“What was that?” Remy asked, leaning down a bit so he could hear me better over the ruckus. In addition to the most food I’d ever seen in my life, there were at least eighteen people all talking quite boisterously.