Remy and Lane Complete Series Box Set

Chapter 3-2

Kate lived in Richmond’s West End, in the home she and Remy had shared together. She agreed to shoulder the mortgage on her own as part of the divorce settlement, which suited him just fine. The apartment he had now had plenty of room, even after Lane began staying over. Plus, it cut his daily commute by a good twenty minutes. With Lane in his life, Remy now spent that extra time snuggling up to his lover in bed, or getting fresh in the shower, or fooling around on the couch…

Truth be told, if he wasn’t his own boss, he’d probably be fired. Most days, it was a chore to part from his lover. Lane’s office opened a half hour after Remy’s, so he was almost always late. It even became a bit of a joke among his staff, who probably abused the fact that he didn’t come in at eight on the dot every morning. But what could he say? He didn’t follow his own rules himself.

It was a little after six when he pulled into Kate’s driveway. The porch light was on, and as Remy approached the house, the garage door began to rise. It rattled noisily—she still hadn’t bothered to oil it, he noticed—and Kate was standing in the lit interior. She was a few years younger than Remy, and still a very attractive woman. Her chestnut hair was cropped short and permed, the same way she always kept it. At the moment, it fluffed around her head like a halo, lit by the overhead light in the garage. She wore a pair of light blue jeans and an oversized sweater to ward off the cold. Her arms were crossed in front of her, and for one crazy moment, Remy almost felt as if they were still married and he was coming home late after a night out, only to find her waiting for him, ready to ream him out.

That was unfair, of course. They had never had difficulties like that when married. They didn’t annoy or frustrate each other, and the divorce was neither of their fault. They just hadn’t been right for each other, and when they finally realized it, the decision to part had been amicable.

And a relief. God, was he glad that part of his life was behind him.

As Remy slowed down, his headlights splashed her and she motioned him to keep driving forward.

He did. Inside the garage, he rolled down the driver’s side window and hollered, “We can’t stay long!”

Coming up to his window, Kate peered around him and smiled. “Hi Lane. I’m really sorry if I’m inconveniencing you—”

“Not at all,” Lane assured her. He leaned forward and grinned past Remy. “I can’t wait to meet your son. I’ve heard so much about him.”

“He’s inside,” Kate said. Then, seeing the perturbed look on Remy’s face, she asked, “What?”

“Why here?” he wanted to know.

“Pop the hatch,” Kate told him. “I have Braden’s Santa gifts in my trunk. We’ll stick them in the back and just tell him to bring his bags with him in the middle seat.”

Remy cut off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt, relieved he wouldn’t have to scrounge around for presents after all. “One of them doesn’t happen to be a TV, does it?” he joked as he got out of the car.

“He doesn’t need a TV,” Kate told him. “Actually, I’m glad you guys are roughing it for a few days. Braden needs to get out more.”

Remy wondered how his son felt about that, but he didn’t argue.

Kate popped the trunk of her car and Remy trailed behind her. He heard Lane exit the Jeep, and turned to give his lover a quick kiss when Lane joined them. “Will you look at the haul Braden’s getting this year?” Remy joked.

The trunk of Kate’s car was filled with large, black garbage bags bulging with presents. Remy pulled open the ties of one to look inside. “Please tell me they’re wrapped already,” he said, peering in.

Kate closed the bag and tightened the ties holding it shut. “Nope. That’s part of your fun this year, mister.”

“I’ll help,” Lane offered. Kate took one bag and Lane grabbed another, following her to the Jeep. Slapping the back window, he said, “Remy? Can you open it, please?”

Remy thumbed the key fob in his pocket. The sound of the lock disengaging was loud in the well-lit garage. As Lane and Kate packed the bags into the cargo hold, Remy reached into her trunk for another. There were five bags in all, but some seemed packed more full than others. The one he lifted felt as if it contained video games or CDs; he heard the packages rattle together and wondered when he’d ever find the time alone to wrap everything. He hadn’t even wrapped the gift for Lane, which he’d stashed in the console between the two front seats of the Jeep so his lover wouldn’t see it. Lane never bothered looking in there—the space was filled with empty CD cases and an old iPod Shuffle, and cords and cables to charge most anything in the cigarette lighter. Remy kept a handful of change in the console, too, even though Lane’s car sported the ubiquitous SmarTag everyone in Richmond seemed to use on the toll roads.

And, tucked under all that stuff, was a tiny, black, box made of velvet. Inside was a ring that had cost more than the one he once bought Kate. A simple gold band with a single, triangle-shaped diamond on it. Gorgeous. He had seen it in a catalog and showed Lane, who had told him, “If you get any wild ideas about proposing to me, Rem, I want that ring on my finger or it’s a no.”

The ring and the question Remy hoped to ask with it was supposed to be the climax of their two weeks together. How was he going to find a chance to share such a special moment with his lover now that his son would be along for the ride?

As Remy carried a bag to the Jeep, he heard the door leading from the garage to the kitchen open, and a young, male voice called out, “Mom? Is he here yet?”

Kate gave Remy a deer-in-headlights look. “Distract him!” she whispered, taking the bag of presents from Remy. “Go, go! Before he comes out here!”

Remy glanced at Lane and grimaced. He felt like a thief in the night, trying to sneak away with a car full of stolen goods. Ducking around the side of the car, he spotted the open door and eight-year-old Braden in the doorway. “Hey, sport!” he called, clapping his hands together. “I’m right here, kiddo!”

With a squeal, Braden jumped off the steps leading into the house and ran to Remy. “Dad!” he cried, hitting Remy with all the weight his small body could muster. He smacked right into Remy and wrapped his arms around his father’s waist. “Mom said you were coming! What’d you bring me?”

“What?” Remy laughed and took his son’s hand, leading Braden back into the house and away from the Santa presents. “I didn’t bring you anything. Christmas is only a few days away.”

“Four days.” Braden held up his free hand and displayed the correct number of fingers. “Mom says we’re going camping. Are we, Dad? Isn’t it too cold to camp? Where are we going?”

Remy grinned at his son’s eagerness. Guiding his son up the steps, he pushed the door open wider and started inside. “A cabin in the woods. You, me, and Lane.”

Braden stopped on the second to last step. His hand tugged Remy’s, unmoving. “You, me, and who?”

“Lane. You’ll meet him in a moment.” Remy glanced at the Jeep, but couldn’t see Kate or Lane. “You’ll like him, I promise. Come on inside.”

“Who’s Lane?” Braden wanted to know.

Who was Lane? The man of my dreams, Remy thought, closing the door behind his son. The man I hope will marry me. The man I want to grow old with. My everything.

But how could he say that in a way that an eight-year-old might even begin to understand? He’s a friend didn’t quite cut it, and he’s my lover was too much, too soon. What had Kate said about Lane, if anything? How did she refer to Mike when talking to Braden?

He felt a tug on his hand, and looked down to see his son staring up at him. Braden had his same dark eyes, the same nose and cheeks, the same thin lips. The blond hair graying on Remy’s head looked bright and unburnished on Braden’s small scalp.

“Who is he, Daddy?” Braden asked.

Remy smiled and tousled his son’s thick hair. “You’ll find out in a minute. He’s outside with your mom right now.”