Chapter 44 Richmond, Virginia—Remy
Richmond, Virginia—Remy
Remy and Skye traversed the tarmac at Richmond International Airport for a private departure, their rolling suitcases rattling along the apron beside the terminal.
It was a flawless spring day in Virginia.
The roadside was ablaze with a riot of blooming wildflowers, and the city itself pulsed with fresh energy.
Emotionally, Remy felt miles away, disconnected from the surrounding beauty.
But the day was still young, brimming with untapped potential.
Skye shivered in the crisp morning air. “You’re only wearing a light jacket, and I need a heavier one. Why didn’t I grab a coat instead?”
“Because you woan need one on the airplane or in New Orleans.”
“You won’t need one. That doesn’t mean I won’t.”
He laughed, but the sound was quiet and subdued. “I figured if you got too cold, you’d want to snuggle with me.”
She wrapped her free arm around him. “I always want that.”
“You didn’t this morning. You couldn’t get out of bed fast enough.”
She stopped and turned to fully face him as the sun framed her determined expression.
“I’m not taking this mood of yours personally.
I know you were up late or early with Archibald, and you’re still worried about him.
” She stepped closer, a soft smile touching her lips.
“Charlotte let me in on a little secret. Apparently, your love language is an act of service. So, consider me your willing servant.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she fluttered her eyelashes theatrically. “What would make you happy?”
Remy summoned the most genuine smile his exhausted face could manage.
He might be wiped out, but he owed her his best behavior in return for her understanding.
And besides, the subtle signal of those batting lashes sent a thrum of desire through his body.
He was now suffering from the same familiar tension coiled low in his abdomen that he’d had earlier when waking to an empty bedroom.
Act of service? Absolutely.
“I can think of a few things, but unless you want to become a member of the Mile High Club on your first flight, we’ll save your act of service for this afternoon.”
She did it again, that exaggerated flutter. “Is that slang for having sex while flying?”
Another surge of desire made him inwardly groan. “That’s exactly what it is. Which badass female told you about the club, of which every married woman in the family is a member?”
“All of them! You have quite a reputation, Mr. Benoit.”
“Ah, shit. Whatever your new friends said, they exaggerated.” A flush crept up his neck.
“I’ve spent evenings with the guys, sure, raising glasses in crowded bars and trading charged glances with a few women.
But I’ve never taken anyone back to my suite—until you.
You can soak in all the secondhand saloon stories you want, but the truth is, none of that noise matters. ”
She stood on tiptoes and kissed him. “We both have a past, and I agree that none of that matters now. I’m just jealous of those other women. They’ve experienced something I haven’t.”
“Whatever happened in the past doesn’t compare to what we’re building now. And you have something the other women could never have had. My heart.”
Her hands pressed against the solid warmth of his chest. The smile she gifted him was not a casual gesture, but an unfolding revelation—comprehensive, soul-deep, and authentic.
He smiled back, mirroring the unspoken understanding that sparked between them, sealing a bond more intimate than any physical touch. They both knew that if they’d had sex before now, it might have clouded this deep-seated connection.
He thought of his mère’s heartfelt wish for him: to emulate his father’s legacy—to lead with humility, to love with strength, and to protect with unwavering honor.
Holding to that philosophy, he felt with unshakable certainty that whatever storms life hurled at Skye and him, together they had the resilience to weather them.