Chapter 12
Benson
The petting-farm barn is lit up and unlocked when I arrive, having forced myself to wait an extra ten minutes before leaving this morning so I didn’t appear too eager.
Which means instead of being early, I’m on time.
Remi’s gaze turns my way when I open the door, the immediate smile on his face hitting me with tangible force, practically knocking the wind out of me. He clicks his CI on before replacing his glove. “I was about to send out a search party.”
“I’m not late,” I reply, checking my phone for confirmation.
Remi’s smile goes lopsided, the man working through a few tangles on Snickerdoodle’s mane as the pony chomps down on her morning feed.
The goats bleat impatiently behind him, running back and forth as they wait for their food.
“Ben, you’re always early. I thought maybe I wouldn’t be seeing you today after all.
Which is fine. You can come when you want. ”
“But I said I’d be here. Which means I’ll be here.”
The way his blue eyes crinkle has me feeling too warm for my coat. I unzip the front, tugging my pocket open to check on Mouse. Remi doesn’t say a word about my companion, just gives Snickerdoodle a final pat and waves me toward the feed room.
“Something for you,” he says, tapping the counter.
I tug off my winter glove to pick up the stapled papers. My surprise must be evident because Remi talks on.
“The job doesn’t come with a set schedule. But you deserve to be paid while you’re here, Ben. You’re doing the same work as me.”
“I…”
“Jackson said if you try to turn us down to tell you it’s also a liability thing. If you get injured while employed, your healthcare would cover it.”
I shake my head a little. “I don’t actually need it.
The job, I mean. I have…” I trail off as the goats continue to make a ruckus, the clucking of the chickens a quieter yet no less constant background noise.
“Savings and a diverse portfolio of investments and…” I close my eyes for a second, my thoughts too jumbled to make a coherent argument. “Can I feed the goats?”
Remi’s eyebrows pop up, but he nods. As I portion out their feed, Remi prepares the chickens’ morning meal. We work in easy, companionable silence, apart from the impatient noises of the animals.
The goats dance around my feet as I enter their pen, long ears swaying back and forth as their wide eyes eagerly follow the bowls in my hands.
Unlike Remi, who can eyeball amounts, I use the measuring scoops and feed chart to make sure I’m getting the right balance of ingredients.
Once I’m near the goats’ feeders, they leave my feet to race the remaining distance there, heads already dipping down in anticipation.
I disperse the food as evenly as I can, and they chow down, too well fed to truly be hungry but sure acting the part to a tee.
I refill their water before heading out of the pen and meeting Remi back in the feed room. He’s waiting for me patiently.
“Sorry,” I say, feeling like I can breathe now that the sounds in the barn have died down some.
Remi shakes his head, a slow movement. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re just doing your job.”
The slight twist of his lips belies his amusement, a fact I catch before his words sink in.
“Not my job yet.”
His smile pops wide. “But it could be.”
“If I say no…” I start, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck, “could I still come here?”
“Of course.”
“And do the same things?”
I don’t add the with you, but it sits heavily in my chest regardless.
Remi nods easily. “Yes.”
“You just want to pay me for it.”
“It’s only fair,” he argues, which I can’t really deny. Now that I’ve gotten the hang of things, Remi does get through his workload quicker. He told me that’s not the goal, and I believe him. But if I’m filling the role of an employee, it does make sense to be paid as one.
In Jackson’s or Remi’s shoes, I’d feel the same. I wouldn’t want someone doing labor for free.
Letting out a breath, I nod my yes.
Remi grins, passing me a pen. “Why don’t you fill this out while I finish up in here? Then we can head over to the stables.”
With another nod, I set to work completing my Darling Ranch employment paperwork. Christ, I didn’t see this coming.
This place I used to run around when I was young, part of the very town I couldn’t wait to flee from… Not only am I back, but I’m signing on to stay.
I knew that, though, didn’t I? Deep down, I knew I’d planned to stay.
I just never expected it to actually start feeling like home.
Remi seems unbothered by my silence in the afternoon. The times I’ve stayed past lunch, it’s been like this.
At first I thought he didn’t notice.
But then, once I realized he was engaging me less, I knew that wasn’t the case. He did notice. And he was leaving me be.
I don’t know how to feel about that. Guilty, apparently, based on the heaviness in my gut.
It takes me a long time to work up the nerve to speak. “Remi.”
He pops his head out of the horse stall he’s in, his expression expectant. “Yeah?”
I go on in sign. It feels easier, somehow, than getting words past the boulder in my throat. ‘You don’t have to be quiet for me.’
His head cocks, golden-brown hair a mess he does nothing to try to tame. Fuck, he’s beautiful, isn’t he? The realization has my breath coming short. “What do you mean?”
‘When I’m like this,’ I explain. I’m not sure the right way to express withdrawn, so I fingerspell it.
The soft smile on Remi’s face does nothing to steady my pulse. I can feel it, beating beside Mouse, who’s currently enjoying the dried peas I dropped into my pocket.
Remi seems to choose his words carefully. More carefully than I’m used to from him. “I like quiet sometimes. It’s…” He pauses and signs, ‘Comfortable,’ his eyes closing briefly.
When they open, he steps closer to me. I can’t look away from his gaze.
“There’s nothing wrong with quiet, Ben. Spending time…together like this? It doesn’t mean less than when we’re having a conversation.”
My pulse thrums heavily, but apparently, Remi isn’t done.
“You told me that sometimes you need a break, right? And I’m guessing that’s especially true after spending half a day on a bustling ranch, followed by an hour inside a dining room full of noisy, talkative people. You also told me you refuse to be ashamed of who you are. Remember?”
I nod weakly.
Remi’s hand on the side of my neck is warm, his eyes holding mine like a hook. “Don’t ask me to force you to endure. I know you can handle it. But you don’t need to around me. There’s no shame in treating yourself kindly, Ben.”
My inhale is shaky. I’m more than certain Remi can feel it with the way his palm is pressed to my neck. But he only gives me a soft squeeze before letting his hand drop away.
“Now, I’m going to turn off my CI for a bit because I’m kind of sick of listening to my rake scraping across the cement. Let me know if you need anything?”
I nod, and Remi lifts his processor off his ear, a soft tug clearing the headpiece from the magnet tucked beneath his skin. He slips the device into his pocket, but I grab his sleeve before he can step away.
My arm feels stiff as my hand falls from my chin. ‘Thank you.’
Remi’s smile is small, his eyes roaming over me until I remember I’m holding his sleeve. I let him go, praying my emotions aren’t written across my face. Praying, one day, I won’t be afraid to let them.
Remi heads back into his stall, the sound of his rake picking up the next second.
It’s rhythmic in a way I don’t mind, my own joining the chorus a minute later.
Mouse nips at the fabric of my shirt, getting restless this far into the workday.
I drop a few more peas into my pocket to give her something to do.
It’s early afternoon by the time Remi and I finish cleaning the horse barn.
He lets a couple of the horses back inside now that the sun is hidden away behind clouds.
They don’t seem to mind being in the warmth of the barn over the still-freezing temperatures of the paddocks outside.
Remi removes their wearable blankets as I collect a couple carrots from the mini-fridge for treats.
I nearly bump into Colton as I exit the room.
“Shit,” Colton mutters, dancing backwards before we can collide. His eyes drop to the carrots in my hand, and he clears his throat. “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I kind of work here now?”
His eyes crinkle into a smile at the answer formed more as a question. “Really? Did Jackson rope you in or did Remi? If you need an escape, blink twice.”
I huff a laugh, making sure I don’t blink two times now that thought is in my head. “No, I’m good.”
Colton grunts as a blanket smacks him in the back, the heavy fabric falling to the floor. He spins around. “What was that for?”
Remi’s hands move too quickly for me to fully follow. I catch ‘pest’ and ‘run him off.’
Colton responds in kind, looking baffled, his hands flying just as fast as his brother’s.
Watching the two exchange a conversation in ASL makes me hyperaware of just how much Remi has been slowing down for my sake.
Colton ends with, ‘just being nice,’ and Remi scoffs, heading past him. He shoots me an almost apologetic smile, but for what, I’m not sure.
As Remi stores the blankets, Colton gives my arm a nudge. “I was being nice, right?”
“Yes?” I answer, tossing a quick glance Remi’s way, unsure if my response might warrant a blanket being hurled against my chest.
Remi only shakes his head, his CI tucked back behind his ear. He shoves a few items aside on the shelves before huffing. “Has anyone seen the saddle butter?”
Colton winces before affecting a look of nonchalance. “Uh, no? I mean, I think Noah borrowed it. But if it’s not there, then maybe we ran out?”
Remi turns slowly, his eyes locking onto Colton. “Oh my God.”
Colton presses his lips tightly together, and Remi groans.
“Really? You guys are the worst,” Remi says, although he doesn’t sound genuinely upset. “The saddle butter, Colt?”
“We had very few options!”
Remi’s eyes widen, his hands held aloft. “You could have—oh, I don’t know—not fucked inside the barn.”
Oh.
Colton hems. “I mean…”
Groaning again, Remi pushes past his brother, shuddering almost violently. “I don’t want to know these things.”
“You asked,” Colton calls after him.
Remi tosses up his middle finger.
Colton looks at me, his expression sheepish. “It just couldn’t wait, you know?”
I refrain from telling Colton no, I don’t really know. I’ve never had that strong of a sexual urge that I couldn’t wait until we got back to my place. Or theirs. I enjoy sex plenty when I like a person.
But willpower hasn’t exactly been an issue for me.
Luckily, Colton doesn’t expect a response. “Well, now that you know way too much about me, I’ll be getting back to work. Maybe we could just…not speak of this? Ever?”
I zip my lips, and Colton flashes me an appreciative smile.
Remi is latching the last of the horse stalls when I catch up to him. I hand him a carrot.
“Thanks,” he mutters, passing it through the bars to the horse inside. He waits while I do the same for the others, taking a moment as I go to pet along their muzzle or between their ears. When I turn back around, Remi is watching me.
“Silkie hair?” I joke, fairly certain that’s not the case.
“No,” he says around a chuckle. “Are you heading out?”
I consider that. “Could I stay for a bit?”
“Yeah.” A smile tugs at his cheek. “Want to come inside with me?”
I nod, and we bundle back up for the short trek to the ranch house. It’s empty of people now, which makes it feel cozier. Leaving our snow-covered boots by the back door, we hang our coats on chairs in the dining room.
Before we get to the stairs, I pause. “Do you happen to have some paper?”
“Yeah, sure,” Remi answers. He disappears into the living room, joining back up with me a handful of seconds later, several pieces of printer paper in hand. “This okay?”
‘Perfect,’ I sign.
He shoots me a smile, and we head up to the second floor. Remi looks curious when I snag a towel from the hall closet, but he doesn’t question me on it.
Once we’re in the art studio, I fold the towel over itself and set to work shredding the paper.
With an untidy pile of makeshift bedding, I carefully lift Mouse out of my pocket.
The rodent’s whiskers flick about, her little black eyes taking everything in.
I set her down on the paper, and she immediately relieves herself.
Remi lets out a sound of surprise. “Oh my God. Do you have her trained?”
“Not exactly,” I tell him, walking a path around the room to check for possible cracks beneath the baseboards. “I think she’s just used to the shredded paper in her box now.”
Seeing nowhere Mouse could get lost, I check for items she could chew. I highly doubt she’d try to gnaw on Remi’s canvases. She never goes after furniture in my room. But I spot a small squeeze tube of paint down low that I set onto the table by the others.
“Aren’t you worried about the open doorway?” Remi asks.
I shake my head, walking back his way. “No. I doubt she’d try those stairs. But I’ll keep an eye on her. I won’t let her wreck any of your paintings.”
Remi’s hands are on his hips. He looks…amused more than anything. “I’m not worried. They’re just paintings.”
“But they’re yours. And they’re really good.”
His smile grows. “If they were bad, would it be okay if Mouse ate them?”
I shrug, and Remi laughs. Mouse, having added a couple droppings to the shredded paper on the towel, scampers off.
“I’ll clean the towel well,” I assure Remi.
“Again, not worried.”
I take him at his word and find a spot to sit near the door where I have a good vantage point to monitor Mouse. Tugging my phone free, I open my BBC app and aim the screen Remi’s way. “Want to watch?”
With a grin I didn’t know could get any bigger, Remi seats himself on the floor next to me, so close his knee is pressed against my leg. I turn on the subtitles and start up a new episode of Antiques Roadshow, holding my phone in a spot that’s easy for both of us to view.
“Have you seen this one?” he asks.
“Of course.”
He chuckles. “Of course.”
Mouse investigates the room as Remi and I watch an episode of my favorite show.
Halfway through the runtime, Remi brings over a small blank canvas and a set of paints.
He mixes colors on a palette, a brush held in his mouth.
When I move the phone aside, he tugs my hand back into place, telling me he’s not done watching.
Remi paints a single flower as we sit there on the floor. No words by mouth or hand. No expectations for the hour we spend in one another’s company.
Only something I love. Something he does. And a bright yellow sunflower brought to life on a canvas.
Remi was right.
Nothing about this is lesser.