Chapter 59 – Mindy
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Hardware Joe and Minnie
Mindy
Remi enters my apartment a few hours later, and the man looks exhausted. The first thing he does is pull me against him, holding me wordlessly for a long time. I let him. He seems like he needs it.
Finally, he speaks. “I’m going to run up to my apartment to grab my scotch. I need a drink.”
I push him toward the couch. “I already went up and got it. After the second hour, I knew you would need it.” As I urge him down onto the couch, he looks up at me like I just gave him a million dollars.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Always the stellar assistant, doing whatever her boss requires,” I shoot back, pouring him a healthy dose. I set the bottle on the coffee table and hand him the glass.
“This looks familiar,” he remarks, inspecting the cut glass.
“I stole it from your place. Otherwise you’d have to drink your fine scotch from a coffee mug that reads ‘Fuck off. I’m baking.’”
That earns me a smile before he downs a large gulp. Walking around the back of the couch, I place my hands on his shoulders, digging my thumbs into the knots I find there.
“Mmm,” he groans. After a few minutes, I’ve worked my hands up into his hair, massaging his scalp, and he makes more sounds of pleasure. “That feels amazing, baby. She fucking gave me a headache with some of the shit she said.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say, though I’m dying to know.
Remi tilts his head back and looks up at me, his brown eyes showing a hint of pain. “I need to tell you, you’re my person.”
“Stop melting my heart,” I scold, giving his hair a little scruff. “Lean forward and let me get your back.”
He does, but first, he downs the rest of his scotch and removes his shirt. I practically drool. There’s something about a man’s back, wide at the shoulders and trimming in at the waist, that really melts my butter. His muscles aren’t bulky but well-defined and lean.
I touch his warm flesh, pushing the heels of my hands into the muscles on either side of his spine as I slide them down. Then I use my fingernails and scratch lightly back up.
“Oh my god, yes. Do that,” he says, and I smile as I switch from massage mode to back-scratcher. And as I do, Remi begins to talk.
“She didn’t even try to deny it. She straight-up admitted she was trying to sabotage our relationship.”
“Did she say why?” I ask, scratching over his broad shoulders and down his arms. I know exactly why, but I want to see what she said.
“She said since I’d finally decided I was ready for a relationship, she thought it was time to make her move. She thought I should be with her, not you. She literally told me this was her long-game.”
“That was my take on it too,” I admit softly.
“I was a bit stunned.” Remi drops his head a bit more as I drag my fingernails up into his hair.
“I never saw Serena as a life partner. There had never been anything romantic between us, at least from my end. She apparently had other ideas and was just biding her time. I feel like an idiot. My brothers have mentioned similar thoughts to me over the years but I just dismissed them and told them they were crazy.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to see when someone shows you only what they want you to see.”
“I feel manipulated,” he says, shaking his head before sitting up and tilting back to look at me with troubled brown eyes. “There’s more. Will you come sit with me?”
Remi is radiating vulnerability, and I bend to give him an upside-down kiss before circling the couch. He pulls me down until I’m straddling his lap.
Swallowing hard, he says, “It’s Serena’s fault we were apart for seven years.”
My lips turn up a little at the corners. “No, that was my fault. I overreacted to something I saw and took it out of context.”
He presses a finger over my lips. “She admitted she put her name in my phone like that on purpose. Then, if she knew I was going out to a party or a club and was likely to pick up a woman, she would send me some vague middle-of-the-night text message.”
My eyes almost bulge out of my head. “So in case the woman happened to look at your phone, she would see a message from Darling Fiancée?”
Remi nods miserably. “I didn’t even realize it at the time, but looking back, I guess I can see it now. I always seemed to have a message from Serena when I’d wake up after a night out.”
“Jesus, that’s crazy.”
“She said she didn’t care if I fucked other women, but she wanted them to know their place.
Those were her exact words.” His jaw clenches.
“Then she had the motherfucking gall to say I could still marry her and she’d be fine if I wanted to discreetly fuck around, as long as I fucked her at least once a month.
All she wanted was my name, money, and status. ”
“That’s… fucking gross,” I say, my face scrunching in disgust.
Remi’s lips thin, and I can tell he’s hurting.
“I never even truly knew the person I thought was my best friend. I always thought she was my safe person, the one woman I could take to an event or whatever without worrying about someone catching feelings. Because it was never like that with us. We’ve never so much as kissed.
” The muscles in his jaw flex. “She’s been playing me for years.
Do you have any idea how shitty that feels? ”
“How did you leave things?” I ask cautiously.
“I told her I never wanted to see her or hear from her again.”
I tilt my forehead forward against his as guilt rains down on me like a hail storm. “I’m sorry, Remi. I’m sorry you lost your best friend.”
He shakes his head, rubbing the soft skin of his forehead against mine.
“I didn’t. We were never truly friends… or we haven’t been since we were children, and the truth of that is what hurts.
” His eyes fall on me imploringly. “I need to feel something real, Mindy. Something true.” His hands cup my face. “Will you make love to me?”
It takes less than a minute before our clothes are on the floor and I’m sinking down onto him. He’s thick and hard inside me and we both groan with the pleasure. Our eyes connect, and he holds my face tenderly.
“Yes,” he whispers against my mouth. “This is real.”
We move slowly, skin against skin, gazes tied together with impenetrable knots.
“I love you, Remington Hale,” I tell him. “Just you. Not your name or your bank account. I’m pretty sure I loved you when I thought you were Hardware Joe.”
He smiles and wraps his arms around me, binding me to him as we make love so slowly it’s practically a religious experience.
“I love you too, baby. And I’ll always be your Hardware Joe if you’ll always be my Minnie.”