Chapter 22
Benson
The day flies, leaving me no room to worry about any opinions that were formed by my presence at the ranch pre-dawn.
Truth be told, I half expected one of Remi’s brothers to give me the talk by now. But no one has. None of the Darlings are treating me any differently now that I’m dating the youngest of the family. I suspect they trust Remi to know his head and his heart.
And maybe they trust me, too.
Doesn’t mean I don’t flush any time my mind wanders to last night. The occasional offhand smile on Remi’s face tells me he’s thinking the same.
“You have a minute before you go?” Remi asks, the two of us having finished the evening meals at the petting farm.
I nod. “Of course.”
After checking on the eggs nestled under the heat lamps, we give a quick goodbye to Snickerdoodle and head out of the barn.
The dinner hour is underway, so Remi and I enter through the front of the house to avoid the crowd.
Conversation buzzes in the dining room as we pass, Remi shooting me a tiny smile.
Up in his room, he heads to his dresser, pulling a small brown bag out from the top drawer. “I meant to give these to you the other day, but I forgot. Well…more like I was preoccupied.”
“By the sex,” I guess.
He barks a laugh. “Yes, by that. And you sleeping in my bed. Here.”
I take the bag Remi passes me, opening the carefully folded-over top. “What…”
“I found them while I was out of town picking up the Silkie eggs,” he explains.
“The supplier was on a lunch break when I arrived, but there was this tiny antiques shop down the street, so I stopped in. They had a whole bunch more, but I remember you mentioning the turtle? I don’t know if that’s the right one. ”
“It is,” I say roughly, pulling the tiny ceramic terrapin out of the bag. The glaze is primarily brown, but there’s a hint of gray around the shell. I don’t have any like it.
“And the other, well… It’s a field mouse. Seemed too perfect to leave on the shelf.”
Curling the terrapin in my palm, I pull the other figurine out of the bag. It’s from the 1987 land set, the fifth in the series, featuring British wildlife.
“You probably already have it,” Remi says, his voice carrying an uncommon hint of nerves.
“I don’t.” The field mouse is a warm brown, just like Mouse. It’s rare. I’ve never seen it before in person. “Remi…”
“You don’t have to add them to your collection. I know you probably have a system or whatever. So, truly, Ben, I won’t be offended. They just…reminded me of you.”
Swallowing, I run my thumb over the smooth surface of the mouse before lifting my hand to my chin. ‘Thank you.’ Racking my brain, I ask, “How do you sign ‘treasure?’”
With a soft smile, Remi demonstrates two signs, speaking along with each. “A treasure. And…to treasure, as in cherish.”
I nod, repeating the second sign. ‘I’ll treasure these. Thank you.’
Remi looks pleased, his nerves from earlier gone. I step forward to kiss the smile on his mouth, Remi tilting his head up to meet me. I’m fairly certain I can taste his happiness. It’s the only explanation I have for why I feel the same sensation bubbling up in me.
I can’t remember the last time I felt…giddy. Is that what this is? The pounding heart, the restlessness at the tips of my fingers that leads me to sinking my hand into Remi’s hair, the buzzing in my chest like a thousand dancing ladybugs.
Remi makes a sound of surprise when I bump him against the dresser. I set the figurines on top without looking and drop my lips to Remi’s neck, finding a hint of sweat over warm skin.
He curses, sounding breathless when he says, “I’m a mess, Ben.”
“Salt lick,” I say clearly, my tongue too preoccupied for full sentences.
He laughs, a husky sound broken up by a moan as I attach my mouth to the delicate skin beneath his jaw.
“Hey, Remi? Are you—”
The voice cuts off abruptly, a loud thud jerking me away from Remi’s neck. Turning, I find Colton holding a hand over one eye, a grimace on his face. I think he ran into the doorframe in his haste to turn away.
“Jesus Christ, are you all right?” Remi asks, straightening his shirt as he pushes off from the dresser.
“Yep,” Colton ekes out, squinting at us with one eye before quickly looking away.
“Good,” Remi says firmly, striding over to his brother and tugging his hand away to check his eye. Satisfied, he shoves his shoulder. “Then I can say that’s what you get for barging in without knocking, you dick.”
I clear my throat. “Should I…get some ice?”
“Please,” Remi says, flashing me a warm smile.
“I’m fine,” Colton argues, waving me off before focusing on his brother. “I was just checking to see if you’re coming down to dinner. Lawson is here. I figured you’d wanna know.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Remi says, steering his brother out into the hall. “I’ll be down in a minute. And we’re gonna have a talk soon about house rules and visiting hours.”
“What?” Colton squawks. “But I live here.”
“Do you?” Remi counters, shutting his door on a bewildered Colton and turning to me. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
He winces. “You sure you don’t want to run? I can’t say I’d blame you.”
I shake my head, feeling undeniably warm still from Remi’s kiss. “It’s kind of nice, actually. Usually I’m the one misreading the room and making things awkward.”
Remi huffs. “You’re not that awkward, Ben.”
“I am, but it’s nice of you to defend me.”
He stalks my way, a wry expression on his face as he loops his arms around me in a loose hold. “You’re just you. Now would you kiss me again before you go? The last one got interrupted, and I want to see how it was supposed to end.”
Helpless to resist, I bring my lips to Remi’s neck. I kiss him once, twice, flick my tongue against the hollow of his throat. Remi drops his head back, his eyes closed when I rise to meet his mouth.
That happiness I tasted earlier is still there. On his lips. On mine, I suspect. It’s soft, and it’s mellow, and I ache with my desire for it to stay.
Remi’s eyes flutter open when I lean back, not wanting to keep him from dinner downstairs, especially with his older brother visiting. His eyes drag between my own, a lazy perusal. “You’re not staying for dinner, are you?”
I shake my head. “I have an appointment with Steph. And…I really do need to check on Mouse.”
“Yeah,” Remi says softly, his hand moving to my chest. He pats me a couple times before stepping away. “See you in the morning, then.”
Letting out a breath, I admit, “You make it really hard to go.”
“Do I?” he asks with a grin, not looking remotely upset about that fact. “So sorry.”
I laugh, grabbing my figurines off the dresser before picking up my backpack. “You’re not. Sweet dreams, Remi.”
He lifts his hands in the air. ‘Good night, Ben.’
I pass Lawson’s husband Oakley in the hall downstairs as I’m leaving. Like many of the ranchers, I see him often in the stables or elsewhere on the premises. He tips his hat with a smile, his multi-hued eyes friendly if not a little otherworldly. “Evening, Benson.”
“Evening.”
He passes without stopping to chat. It’s a marked difference from the corporate world I left, where everyone stopped to talk, likely in an attempt to avoid work. I didn’t even realize until I left how often I was forcing smiles I didn’t feel. Or how uncomfortable small talk made me.
Here at the ranch, everyone is polite, but no one seems inclined to push me into chitchat.
I don’t know if I’m simply radiating stay away vibes now that I’m not trying so damn hard to fit in or if the folks here are better at reading things like body language.
If they instinctively realize I’m more comfortable when left on my own.
Either way, moments like the one I just had with Oakley come with a sense of relief. It’s a feeling I have often when I’m here.
The sun is above the mountains when I step outside, bathing the ranch land in hues of gold. A glimpse of purple has my feet coming to a stop.
A small bunch of prairie crocus is peeking out of the ground near the corner of the house.
I walk that way, brushing aside a few damp leaves from last fall to see them better.
The petals are a pale lavender and form a sort of star shape when open, the center of the flower yellow.
I pick one, only an inch or so of stem sticking out below the bud.
Heading back into the house, I set the crocus on the edge of the bottom stair that leads up to the second floor.
When I get home, neither my mom nor August are inside.
They’re likely still at the shop. I make my way upstairs to check on Mouse, worried about the long absence despite my mom letting me know the rodent seemed fine this morning when she checked.
I let out a sigh of relief to find the field mouse looking as healthy as can be.
Mouse scampers into my palm when I offer her a break from her newest cardboard box. She sniffs my hand before attempting to climb into my sleeve. Gently, I extract her, grabbing a bag of sunflower seeds as I check the time on my phone.
Taking a seat on the ground, I scatter a few seeds for Mouse and call Steph.
Her voice is as warm as ever. As is her smile. “Good evening, Benson.”
“Steph.”
“Where are we at today?”
I ease out a breath. “Good. I, uh, feel really happy.”
“That’s great. I’m glad to hear it. I know you’ve mentioned before that happiness can be hard for you to accept. That you have a tendency to suppress it more than other emotions.”
I nod, dropping another couple seeds for Mouse. “I think…because it’s so big.”
“And when you were younger, those bursts of joy may have been seen as disruptive, which would have naturally led to some confusion and possibly shame. You likely don’t need me to reiterate it, but I’d still like to remind you that letting that happiness in is an incredible step. It means you’re healing.”
My throat feels tight as Steph goes on.
“Can I ask what made you so happy today?”