Chapter 3 Remy
Remy
I anxiously waited for Zo to come pick me up, like we were going on a date, but all he was doing was taking me to run some errands.
I laughed out loud at my delusion. That man gave me a feeling that I couldn’t explain.
It made me tense, nervous, and excited all at once.
But I couldn’t act on it. Remy Cross wasn’t in the business of pursuing a man.
But I wasn’t an idiot, I saw the attraction in his eyes, the way he seemed to undress me every time I walked by.
Occasionally, we would catch eyes in the rearview mirror.
But the longer I was around Jaxon’s family, the better I understood their dynamics.
He and Jaxon were just about as tight as Jaxon and his brothers.
He was basically the fourth Jennings. Zo was the most trusted member on Jax’s team.
I heard how he talked about him. I always noticed that if anything went wrong, Zo was the person he turned to.
It made sense that Zo was avoiding me and being standoffish. He didn’t want to overstep. But Jaxon and I didn’t have that kind of relationship. Judah calls me his wingman; that’s exactly what I’d call it. Still, it wasn’t my place to try to convince any of them otherwise.
He sent me a message to let me know he was coming through the gate, so I grabbed my bag, slipped on my shoes, and walked outside.
When he saw me come to the door, he stepped out of the car and opened the rear door for me.
I walked down the stairs, crossed the walkway toward him, and noticed he was doing that same thing with his eyes again.
That intense stare said more than his mouth had in the last month or so.
I kept my face neutral as I approached, meeting his gaze without a word.
“Good afternoon,” I kept it formal as I slid into the backseat and exhaled.
“What’s up?” He asked as he closed the door behind me.
We pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. He turned on the music for me as we rode. It had become so routine; we rarely spoke more than a couple of sentences. I started asking him to play music to cut through the thick of the silence.
I sang along to the R&B station as we drove to my first destination, my spa appointment.
I found this cute place online and couldn’t wait to try it out.
I needed to unwind. It proved to be the best decision that I had made all year.
That place was just as good as the one back home in Louisiana.
By the time I came out, I felt as loose as a noodle and waited for him to take me to the grocery store to pick up something to cook for dinner.
We made it to the store, and he pulled into the parking spot, got out, and opened the back door for me. I caught a glimpse of his gun underneath his blazer as he extended his hand to help me onto the sidewalk.
“Thank you, Zo,” I said as he shut the door behind me and followed me.
“Zohan,” he corrected me, causing me to stop midstride. I looked back and shot him a confused glance, but I kept walking.
We went into the store, and I got a cart with the intention of pushing it up and down every aisle.
He stood back for the most part and let me shop.
It was overbearing. I thought I would be used to security now.
But the Jennings security was next level.
It was airtight. In Louisiana, they at least let me drive my own vehicle and sometimes tail me.
I put everything I could think of in the cart because over the weeks, I had learned that Jaxon was not playing when he said that he could not cook. I had takeout more times than I could stand, and even though it was fine dining, there was nothing like a home-cooked meal.
I saw some sugar-free barbecue sauce, and I reached up to get it.
“Excuse me, beautiful? Can I have your number?” The scent of cologne invaded my nostrils. I peered to the left of me at the guy who grabbed the bottle and handed it to me. Then I glanced back at Zo, who was leaning against the shelf, cool as a cucumber.
“No, thank you.” I declined as I started to read the label on the sauce container.
“Why, love? You're too pretty for me to walk past.” He pressed me.
“I’m just-"
“You don’t owe no nigga an explanation, Remy. Get the fuck out of her face nigga before you piss me off.” Zo stepped up from the background, and I whipped my head toward him in surprise. His normally calm expression was replaced by a look that made me clench my thighs.
But the guy didn’t seem to back down either. He stood tall, pushed his shoulders back, and chuckled before swiping the tip of his nose.
“Hm, better to be pissed off than pissed on, bitch nigga.” He scoffed and turned back toward me, trying to dismiss Zo.
That was a mistake he didn’t know he was making.
He cocked back to Little Rock, Arkansas, and knocked the man off his feet.
It sounded like he’d been hit in the head with a hammer.
I had only seen people get knocked out in movies, but Zo had a golden arm.
The man in the aisle, snoring midday, proved it.
“Zo!” I gasped in shock and stepped quickly to the right, planting myself between him and the other guy to block his path as he tried to round me and go finish the guy off. He looked down at me, his brows furrowed, and took a deep breath before saying, “Get your cart and finish shopping, Ma.”
I didn’t even want the groceries anymore, but I did as I was told.
We turned around, went down the aisle, and I was grateful we were the only three there.
Seeing him in action bothered me in more ways than one.
He carried that AR like I carried my purses, but seeing he didn’t even need it to defend himself was something different.
Once we reached the checkout line, I started setting the items on the belt, and I caught sight of the man from earlier, holding on to the railings and stumbling out the door.
I glanced back at Zo, who had seen the same thing and had a smirk on his face.
Then he went to the end of the line and started to place my bags in the cart as I took out my debit card.
Before I could pay for the items, he reached into his pocket and pulled out some money and peeled off six one-hundred-dollar bills.
I don’t know what was going on, but I could feel the tide shifting.
He had never played such a hands-on role during his detail duty.
Of course, he wouldn’t let me carry anything or let anyone harm me, but it was a difference in the way he was doing it.
This was above his scope of duties, and we both knew that.
Or at least, that’s what my delusion was telling me again.
We walked outside to the truck. Zo popped the trunk and began loading the groceries. I stood next to him and reached for a bag, but the moment my hand touched it, he took it from me immediately.
“Get in the truck, Rem,” he said as he continued to put bag after bag neatly inside.
My eyes went from the bags to him, and in a second, I took him in.
His chiseled jawline, how his muscles flexed underneath his button-down, and the way his locs were in those fresh two-strand twists.
The thought of his hair being freshly done caused me to frown at the fact that somebody had been playing in his head.
“Let me help you, Zohan,” I said, calling him by the name that he had given me earlier.
He put the next two bags in the trunk and took a frustrated breath that caught me off guard by how quickly his attitude seemed to shift.
Then he reached out, placing one hand around my neck and the other firmly on my waist before pulling me into the most passionate kiss, right there in the parking lot.
I was shocked, but my surprise was a distant memory as I parted my lips for him and he slipped his tongue into my mouth.
The kiss was hungry and intense. His strong grip on my neck and waist felt possessive.
I moaned when he bit my lip as we parted.
Then he looked down at me, as I blushed and sucked my bottom lip into my mouth.
He repeated, “Get your ass in the truck, Remy.” He chuckled as I didn’t exchange a word, and went right to the back seat of the truck and let myself in.
With the way he kissed me and gave my middle its own heartbeat, I would have gotten in any truck that was unlocked just to fulfill his request.
I sat in the backseat as he finished with the groceries and shut the trunk, and we pulled away from the store and went back to the estate that Jaxon and I shared.
The music was on as usual, and I tried my best to focus on the songs and not the kiss that had been lingering on my lips for the last thirty minutes of the ride. But it was hard. We had locked eyes in the rearview mirror a couple of times, but neither of us started a conversation.
Back at the estate, he pulled through the gates, shut the engine, and opened the door for me to step out. Just as I turned my body, he stood between my legs.
“Remy, I want you, and I’m done acting like I don’t. I wanted to respect the fact that you might be married to my nigga in a week. But I can’t get your voice or that pretty ass smile off my mind.” I smiled as I finally made eye contact with him. But I didn’t know what to say.
When I didn’t respond, he continued. “If that’s not what you want, then that’s cool too.”
I reached upward and ran my hands through his chin hair.
I leaned forward and kissed him this time.
Throwing my arms behind his head while he rubbed the spread of my hips.
The growl that escaped his body while we kissed vibrated through my body, making me squirm in my seat and my panties dampen.
I broke the kiss and pushed him back before I stepped out of the car and walked into the house.
I didn’t need to confirm what he already knew.