Chapter 40
— Remmy —
“Scout?”
He immediately shifted his daydreaming focus from the TV to me, and his fingers halted their lazy circles over the scar on my thigh.
“Yeah?”
My heart kicked, lodging in my throat, rendering me unable to speak.
Despite him feeling crappy, concern scrunched his expression as his dark eyes flicked between mine. “What’s up?”
I stared back, utterly terrified to voice the words burning on my tongue. They dried all moisture from my mouth. Stole my ability to draw a full breath—not while under Scout’s close perusal.
His brows drew lower, and he angled close. “Are you okay, babe?”
Swallowing forcefully around sandpaper, I also managed a small nod. “Yeah. I um…”
Scout’s phone rang. He quickly checked the screen then ignored it. “It’s Linney. She’ll call back.”
“Oh, answer it. It’ll be important.”
“We were talking,” he stated.
I waved a hand, trying to act cool, calm, and collected despite my heart pounding. “It’s fine. Honestly. I can wait.”
Scout simply stared until his phone silenced. “There. Problem solved. So, what’s up, honey?”
It took all my strength not to stutter. The interruption had completely shattered my nerve to share my past.
“I have an update,” I improvised.
He gifted me with his full, unwavering attention and nodded for me to continue. I forged on, shoving down the confessions I should be spilling and treading water where I was less out of my depth.
“The exclusive client I told you about…” I paused, then continued when he nodded, “…he’s returned the contract; signed and accepted the terms and conditions.”
Scout’s brows rose, though he remained sincere. “That’s great news. So what are the Ts and Cs?”
With my erratic pulse finally settling a little, I listed on my fingers. “Twenty thousand a month for unlimited content a month, with a minimum of three a week. I can leave all my current pay per view content up if I wish, though all new content must be exclusive to him. There’s a one-month termination clause if for whatever reason either of us needs to end the agreement, and that’s only valid after one full year of the contract being in place. Strictly feet and legs only. No other requests are to be made from the client. And of course, the non-disclosure of content and any details of the content. Other than the online details of his FootFet account, he remains entirely anonymous to me.”
Scout nodded thoughtfully, fingers having resumed their circles on my inner thigh. “Okay. And when does this all take effect? When do you start?”
“Well,” I said, becoming more enthusiastic thanks to his calm support, “tomorrow essentially. Or whenever, now that we’ve both signed and the arrangement is official. I just need to set up somewhere…”.
The situation was a win-win for both Scout and me, and while he could have laid down demands, he seemed more at ease now that there was a confidential contract in place and Leif had gone over it with a fine-tooth comb.
Scout flipped up a hand. “Use any room in the house aside from ours. Hell, you could use the kitchen if you wanted, though Cillian and Linney will be making daily house calls starting tomorrow, so we don’t really want them getting any ideas,” he drawled with a wink.
I rolled my eyes. “They’d run a mile, I’m sure.”
His tongue smoothed across this lower lip as a wicked glint entered his eyes. “I wouldn’t.”
“You didn’t ,” I corrected him.
The deep, relaxed chuckle that always warmed my chest rumbled from his. “That’s because I wanted to see what I was missing. You didn’t disappoint either.” He let out a low whistle, then laughed when I lightly slugged his uninjured arm.
As it was, he still flinched, then clutched his elbow with a hiss. “Ah fuck. Is it meds time yet?”
I arched a brow. “Do I look like your personal timekeeper?”
My stomach flipped as he leaned in. “No, but you look like someone who takes mighty fine care of me.”
“Barely.”
Welcoming the sweet kiss he pressed to my mouth, I cupped his jaw. The hinge worked under my palm as I leisurely kissed him back. Tender and affectionate, and rough and possessive—Scout had many sides to him. While I loved that he matched my energy, it was these wholesome moments that made me feel valued. Like they validated my feelings for him. Reminded me that it was okay to let him in and to love him just that little bit harder.
Scout hummed while peppering more kisses to my lips. “More than barely: You cooked for me.”
“It was the least I could do.”
He sat back with a wince but covered it quickly by flashing me another smile. “And I appreciate the hell out of it.” He winced again, and damn if it didn’t make my chest twinge.
Against my better judgement and the red flags waving themselves frantically in my head, I affectionately squeezed Scout’s knee, then rose.
“I’ll grab your meds for you.”
He sat forward with a look of concern. “I got it, babe. I didn’t invite you to stay just to have you wait on me.”
Already halfway across the room, there was no room for argument. “It’s nothing, I promise.”
However, as I strode into the kitchen with my jaw set, tiny beads of sweat cropped up along my upper lip and forehead. Heat—not the good kind—bloomed in my chest, weighing me with dread, causing my swallow to become thick and forced.
My hands were steady as I got him water, but shook like hell as I plucked the meds from the drawer I’d hidden them in. I kept them in the bottles. To touch would be to tempt even more than what I was already. I’d recovered, but the underlying craving never fully faded. Not completely. Even holding the bottles in my shaking hand had me pulling hard on the reins.
In the years during my recovery, there had never been a finer line between just looking and just one more little pill.
Scout cracked an eyelid open as I returned to the separate lounge, and he did a double take. “You okay, honey? You’re looking pale.”
I forced a smile and straight-up lied through it. “Of course. Just a little tired, and it hit me when I stood up.”
He hummed while tossing back the pills, then drank them down. “You n’ me both. Despite my nap, I’m so ready for bed.”
After heaving himself up dramatically and stretching as best he could with one arm raised, he extended that arm to me. “C’mon, Rems. I’m beat.”
With the lights out behind us, we ascended the stairs hand in hand. And when I lay in his arms ten minutes later, I couldn’t shut out the silent lure of temptation that wove its way up the stairs from the kitchen.