Chapter 12 Remy #2
I know they are wealthy. I mean, you don’t get to buy a hotel and casino on a barista’s wages.
But sending down for pickles drives that realization home with a bang.
If I want pickles I walk to the bodega on the next block and hope that they have a jar on the shelf.
I don’t have pickles at my beck and call.
Maybe this is new information for them also. Neither of them has spoken.
“I don’t need pickles.” I sit up and they give me space although their hands hover, ready to catch me if I faint a second time. “Cheesy eggs will be fine.”
“Cheesy eggs coming right up.”
I track Bash’s movements to the kitchen with my eyes. I watch him break eggs into a bowl, grate some cheese and add milk. While butter sizzles in a pan, he cancels the paramedics from his cell.
“Our mom taught us to make eggs.” Cash is so close that I can see the faint scar through his eyebrow. “She wanted her sons to be independent.”
She must not have known at the time that they’d be able to send down for eggs and pickles anytime they wanted.
“What’s your specialty?” I ask.
He grins at me. “Risotto.”
Eggs and risotto. I could get on board with that. Not that we’ve spoken about anything other than food since I got here, but my hormones are latching onto it and holding on tightly with both hands.
I slide my legs over the side of the couch to stand up, and Cash holds my hand.
Memories of the night we spent together come flooding back when I’m standing in front of him. I can still feel his hand fisting my hair, can still taste his kisses, can still feel him inside me.
“Remy, I want you to know that—”
“The eggs are ready.” Bash’s voice wrenches us apart, and I’m grateful for the interlude.
I don’t trust myself when I’m around him, and the last thing I need right now is to jump straight back into bed with one of them.
Cash pulls a chrome stool out for me and waits for me to sit down before sitting beside me. Bash serves my eggs on a couple of slices of hot buttered toast. He slides the plate across the counter with a glass of iced water and sits across from me.
I inhale the aroma of cheesy eggs and grin at the plate. The first mouthful melts on my tongue. I didn’t realize how ravenous I was until I’m halfway through the meal and look up to find them both staring at me.
“These are so good.” My hand raises the next forkful to my mouth without any internal cooperation.
They’re silent until I’m finished and I’ve mopped up the buttery goodness from the plate with the last morsel of toast.
Then Cash says, “Remy, you need to eat.”
I swallow the crust and wash it down with a mouthful of water, crunching an ice cube between my back teeth. “I do eat.”
He ignores me. “We’ll call you every mealtime if we must.”
Now that my hunger has been satisfied, my body switches its attention to other things.
Namely how irresistible they both are. I delayed speaking to them because I didn’t want to choose, so it was easier to avoid them.
But sitting here with Cash on my left-hand side, and Bash in front of me, my body is doing the talking, and my body wants them both.
Only that’s impossible.
I dig my fingernails into my palms underneath the counter. “What did you want to speak to me about?” It will be better for everyone if we get this over and done with and I can get the hell out of here before I make a fool of myself.
Again.
“You,” Cash says.
“Us,” Bash adds.
“All of it,” they say together.
I smile. “Do you always do this, speak in tandem?”
“No.” Cash’s shoulders relax a little. “We don’t finish each other’s sentences either.”
“But we do generally know what the other one is thinking.”
It’s like watching a tennis match, the conversation being batted back and forth between them and making me feel giddy. “Did you drive your mom crazy when you were kids?”
Cash chuckles and the sound tingles between my legs.
What is wrong with me? I could blame pregnancy hormones, but I wasn’t pregnant when I first met him, and nothing has changed since then. Even though everything has changed since then.
“We played tricks on her.” Cash shrugs. “It’s a twin thing.”
“We still drive her mad.” Bash is more conservative with his opinions, content to let his brother lead the conversation and step in occasionally.
Seeing them together like this, I can spot subtle differences that I didn’t notice before.
Probably because I had my eyes closed and was surfing multiple orgasms at the time.
When he smiles, Cash’s lips tilt slightly to the left.
Bash has a freckle on his neck, and he sometimes scratches behind his left ear before he speaks.
“Wonderful.” I lick my lips and they both stare at my mouth, hypnotized. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
“Remy.” Bash clears his throat, scratches behind his left ear, and touches the freckle as if he could read my mind. “We want to be a part of the babies’ lives.”
“We?” Because I’m not sure if they’ve forgotten that either one of them could be the father.
“We.” Cash holds my gaze for so long I watch his pupils growing. “We’re all in this together.”
“But…”
“But we’ll go along with whatever you want,” Bash adds. “A regular DNA test won’t identify which one of us is the father as we’re identical twins. We can pay for a genome analysis if that’s what you want, but we don’t want to put you through that.”
“As long as you’re happy to put up with us both.” Cash’s lopsided smile melts me inside.
I climb down from the stool and pace the floor between the kitchen and the living room.
“Okay, so you didn’t believe me before, and now you both want to be their dad.
” I stop pacing and stare at them. “It’s a lot to take in.
What does that even mean, put up with you both?
You both want to attend the ultrasound scans?
You both want to hold my hands when I’m giving birth and take a baby each? ”
Shit.
I never thought that they might want to take the babies away from me.
I allowed myself to get so caught up in Ariel’s fantasy land where they bought me an apartment and took on the night feeds while I got some rest, that I never considered the very real possibility that they might want full custody.
If they went to court, they would win. They’re successful businessmen with the money to give my babies a better life than I could ever give them. They could buy the best baby equipment. Afford live-in nannies. Guarantee them entry into the best Ivy League schools in the country.
How could I fight that?
“I shouldn’t have come here.” I grab my purse from the floor where I must’ve dropped it when I passed out. “Thank you for the eggs, but I don’t need your help.”
“Remy?” I don’t know which one of them said my name, and I don’t stick around to find out.
I’m almost at the steps to the elevator before they catch up with me.
“Remy don’t leave.”
“We can work this out. Tell us what you want. Whatever you need for you and the babies, we’ll make it happen.”
“We want to be in their lives, but if that isn’t what you want, we’ll respect that too.”
Tears fill my eyes.
I turn around slowly and face them both. They’re not making this up. The masks have dropped. I see what their mom must see when she looks at her sons, and I don’t know how I didn’t realize that they were not the same person when I was in their arms.
“You won’t try to take them from me?”
They both furrow their brows. “Take them?” Bash speaks first. “You’re their mom. Why would we want to take them away from you?”
“Because you can?” I realize how irrational it sounds the instant I say the words out loud.
They each take my hand and shake it.
“Perhaps we should start over,” Cash says. “Hi, I’m Cash Murray.”
“And I’m Bash Murray. Pleased to meet you.”
“Hi.” I’m smiling now. “I’m Remy Jones, and I’m having your babies.”