Ram Remy (Providence Family Ties 4)

Remy was hurt because he’d never been given a chance to support her or help her out. I think he also partly blamed himself for Carrie’s death because he hadn’t been there. His overprotectiveness was partly down to the fact he loved his son and didn’t want anything to happen to him. He was also defensive because he incorrectly assumed she hadn’t told him because he wasn’t capable of being a dad.

Remy had incorrectly assumed their parents thought the same thing, but I think that was just an excuse for his fear.

Maybe the conk to the noggin from his son had clicked things into place? It’d be awesome if he could finally just relax and enjoy being a dad to his son. Heck, he wasn’t even mine, and I loved being around Toby. I wished Remy could just enjoy it like I did because he had an amazing kid.

Given that the ranch hands were just next door and the place was pretty secure, I never locked my front door, so Croix walked straight in after Pawpaw parked up in front of it. To be fair, the only thing I had of any value was the laptop I wrote on and a television, so if someone broke in and expected to get rich, they’d be disappointed. I always hid my computer in between towels in the cupboard every time I went out just in case, but also because my roof had a slight leak, and I didn’t want it to get damaged when I wasn’t there, so it’d be unlikely they’d find it.

Dumping the diaper bag and stuff we’d brought for Toby on the couch, Croix grimaced at the pile of folded laundry waiting to be put away.

“Jesus Christ, that looks like a hairy chest.”

Confused, I looked at what he was talking about, and burst out laughing. “That’s a swimsuit Addy bought me as a joke for the hot tub book club.”

Picking it up and holding it for him to see the full effect, I laughed even harder when he gagged.

It’d been a joke gift—at least, I hoped it was one—that she’d found online and had given me in front of the ranch hands last week. At first glance, it was skin-colored, but when you opened it up, there was a man’s chest with hair all over the front printed on it.

“Hey,” Pawpaw snapped, covering Toby’s eyes. “Put that away before you traumatize him.”

Still smiling, I put it on the top of the pile of laundry and carried it through to my bedroom. I didn’t have the energy to put it away right now, so it’d have to wait until later, i.e., tomorrow.

It felt like I had lead in my legs as I walked back to them, but seeing my brother and Pawpaw laughing with Bub made everything else in my life feel lighter.

Honestly, I hated that Croix was in the military. I hated him being away, I hated not knowing if he was okay, and I hated him being in situations that could kill him. I’d also hated when he’d come home hurt once, and we hadn’t known until he’d turned up at Mom’s house with bandages down his left arm and weaving their way across his shoulder and the front of his neck.

I hated a lot about it and was worried sick our little brother would follow in his footsteps… but I was so damn proud of him at the same time.

The world was a scary place, and you never knew what twisted shit some sick asshole somewhere was going to do. The fact people put themselves in the position to help victims and protect us blew my mind every time I thought about it. No war was good, but I trusted my brother to keep us as safe as he possibly could.

But I wished he didn’t have to risk his life each time he did it. Because he was in front of me, I could see he was okay and fine, but the scars on his arm and just above the neckline of his t-shirt were a constant reminder of how quickly things could go wrong.

“Hey,” he said, holding Toby out to Pawpaw. “Take him while I go and get the pain in the ass’s surprise.”

I was just walking into the kitchen to get us something to drink, so I called out as I got to the fridge, “I thought y’all coming to visit was my surprise.”

“Nope, that’s just the cherry on top. I’ll take a root beer, don’t give me any of that Coke shit,” he yelled just before the door clicked shut behind him.

Yeah, he hated Coke. In fact, most of my family did, and I had no explanation for why we didn’t like it, except we just didn’t. It didn’t matter if it was generic, Pepsi, or Coca Cola—it was all a no. The only time we bought it was to play pranks on each other, and other than that, we avoided it like the plague.