“You’re giving me a big head,” Jeremiah drawled.
“He also had quite an impressive career there,” Leigh continued as if Jeremiah hadn’t spoken. “I don’t know anything about Formula One racing but the things he’s achieved speak to his work ethic. And determination.”
“Or my vanity,” he suggested, “and thirst for recognition.”
Leigh gave him a look that asked,What are you doing? I’m trying to talk you up!“I don’t believe for a minute that you’re motivated by vanity and recognition.”
“Oh?” Remy said. “Speak for yourself.”
“I’ve been talking too long.” Leigh rose from the table, which contained only their empty pudding bowls and glasses. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m going to clean things up since you two cooked.” She lowered the lights by fifty percent, which made their surroundings look fifty percent better. “With a decent sound system and dim lights, you can replicate a lounge. That’s what my ex-husband and I used to do. We’d make our own homemade lounge. I’m going to do the same for you two now.”
“I’m not one to go to a lounge even when I’m in a place where such a thing exists,” Remy said.
Leigh tapped on her phone until the song “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight” flowed from it.
“Jeremiah and I aren’t really the dancing type.”
“Dancing is romantic,” Leigh stated.
“Yet Jeremiah and I aren’t engaged in a romance.”
“You two are going to dance. This is my house and that’s the way it’s going to be.” Leigh herded the two of them into position.
Jeremiah, who was more than happy to dance with Remy, held himself still, looking down at the top of her head. Remy placed her hands on his shoulders near his neck in the classic middle-school dance style. Her body was positioned as far away as possible from his, yet the feel of her hands on him caused his breath to freeze.
When she looked up at him, he saw glimmers of silver in her irises. Freckles sprinkled across her nose. Two were grouped close together underneath her lower eyelashes on one side. Her pulse beat in her throat and he could smell her shampoo.
“You two. Honestly.” Leigh moved his left hand to Remy’s waist and his right hand out so that his bare fingers wrapped around Remy’s. She set Remy’s free hand on his shoulder. “Closer now.”
Remy stepped within a few inches of his chest. The small gap between their bodies snapped with voltage.
Leigh returned to her phone to increase the volume of the song.
“You okay with this?” Jeremiah whispered to Remy.
“Yes.”
“You’ll let me know if that changes?”
“I will.”
“Dance,” Leigh encouraged, shoving pieces of furniture out of their way. They danced on a thousand-year-old carpet that Jeremiah believed was woven out of nothing but dust. “Ayuh. That’s it. I’ll leave you to it while I clean. I don’t want either of you quitting until five songs, minimum, have passed.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
Remy's waist was smooth and firm beneath his touch. It was hard to think. “When we agreed on terms regarding me staying on Islehaven,” he said hoarsely, “we didn’t discuss weekends.”
“At the time of our agreement, I intended we’d go our separate ways on weekends. That will give you the opportunity to return to Appleton. Which, of course, you can do anytime. You don’t have to wait for the weekends.”
“I don’t want to go back to Appleton. I want to spend my weekends with you. What do you typically do on Saturdays and Sundays when you’re not nursing strangers with broken ribs?”
“I work,” she confessed.
“In that case, I’m offering an anti-work weekend. I’ll plan something for us to do on Saturday. You plan something for Sunday.”
“For the whole day or just part of the day?”
“Just part. Activities lasting between two and five hours.” If he asked for too much, she’d balk.
She was smiling dreamily, mouthing the chorus.
