Читать книгу The Dare Collection: March 2018 - Nicola Marsh - Страница 30

CHAPTER TWENTY

Tanner

‘WHAT THE HELL did you tell those doctors to bully them into discharging me early?’ Remy propped on his elbow crutches, grinning at me with newfound respect the following Tuesday. ‘On second thoughts, I don’t give a flying fig what you said. I’m just rapt to be going home.’

‘And back to work as long as you keep off that ankle and just supervise,’ I added, playing the solicitous brother to the end and feeling like a fraud because of it.

Getting Remy discharged from hospital hadn’t been an altruistic act on my part. I needed him back at Le Miel.

So I could leave.

Continuing to work alongside Abby after this morning was untenable.

For the first time ever, when I’d woken next to a woman after another incredible night of sex, I hadn’t wanted to leave.

I’d wanted to stay. In her bed. In her apartment. In her life.

Ensuring I had to leave pronto.

I wasn’t a forever kind of guy. I’d end up driving away anyone who got too close. I’d had that drummed into me from a young age, the reason why I’d made such a big effort with Remy to prove Dad’s prediction wrong. At least he’d died knowing I was loyal to my brother. I hoped he choked on the knowledge when he looked up at me from hell every single day.

‘I can’t thank you enough for holding down the fort while I’ve been in hospital.’ Remy cleared his throat as I picked up his bag. ‘You’ve been amazing.’

‘Save the mushy crap for someone who cares,’ I said, sounding just as gruff as we exited his room and made our way slowly up the corridor towards the exit. ‘Do you want me to drop you home or at Le Miel?’

‘The patisserie, of course.’ He waved one crutch around. ‘The ankle feels fine in the boot and these things are okay for my ribs, so all good.’

I’m glad it was all good for one of us. Me? Not so much. I had to extricate myself from the thing with Abby and every time I thought about ending it I felt sick in my guts.

I wanted her in my life.

I’d end up pushing her out of my life.

Which meant the kind thing, the honest thing, would be to finish it now before either of us got invested.

Too late for me. I was already in way too deep and flailing like a drowning guy. Desperate to grab onto the nearest buoy, which happened to be my brother returning to work.

‘You wait here and I’ll go get the car—’

‘What’s wrong?’ Remy stopped me by stabbing my foot with a crutch. ‘Did something bad happen between you and Abby?’

‘We’re fine,’ I said, summoning a latent acting skill I’d honed to great effect as a kid, knowing it would fool Remy. He’d never seen through my fake bravado, from the first time I tried to hide my tears at age eight when Dad yelled at me for looking like ‘that useless French slut who trapped me into marrying her’ to the many times since Mum died and his systemic verbal abuse made me feel worthless and useless like nothing else could.

At the time, I’d resented Remy for not being around, for not seeing enough, for not doing anything. I’d hated him deep down for being caught up in his apprenticeship and his schooling and his dreams of running a patisserie one day.

But as Dad’s emotional torture had escalated, I’d been glad Remy hadn’t been around to notice. Dad had ruined my life; I didn’t want him tainting Remy’s as well. Remy was a good guy. He looked after me when he could. I was lucky to have him as a brother.

After Dad died, Remy had broached the topic of my obvious animosity towards our father once. I’d ended up throwing Dad’s prized beer stein against the wall, smashing it to smithereens and laughing hysterically. Remy had put my tantrum down to grief and the teenage hormones of a fifteen-year-old running wild but, thankfully, he’d never brought up the subject since.

So I summoned those infamous acting skills now to force a nonchalant grin. ‘It’s been great working alongside her.’

Remy’s eyes narrowed, pinning me with a glare that said he didn’t believe my bullshit, not this time. ‘I’m not talking about work and you know it.’

‘We’ve had fun.’ I shrugged, feigning indifference I didn’t feel, wishing that damn ache in my chest would quit sooner rather than later. ‘We’re good.’

‘Had, as in past tense?’ Judgement laced his tone. ‘So you’re over?’

Feeling like a prick for lying to my brother yet again, I nodded. ‘You know me. I’m not built to last.’

‘You’re full of crap.’ Remy snorted, shook his head. ‘She’s a great girl. You’re staying in town. Why not see where this can go?’

I knew exactly where this would go. Down the toilet.

‘I’ll get the car,’ I said, stalking away.

My usual MO and I’d stick to it.

I just hoped Abby would understand.