The Redo (Winslow Brothers #4) (55)

He chuckles at that. “We had a lot of good times back in the day, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, we definitely did,”

Oh man, did we ever…

Instantly, my mind joins the stupid dimple in its traitorous behavior and goes straight toward memories of what it was like to be the girl on Remy’s arm. To spend nearly every waking hour with him. To be the person who made him laugh and smile. To be the girl he kissed. And touched.

To experience what it felt like to have Remy slide inside me.

Stop it.

Still, even though I know it’s not good for me, I can’t stop myself from taking in how painfully cute he looks, sitting there, with Izzy.

He was right. The ladies of Central Park were definitely appreciative of this view.

Honestly, it’s almost criminal how perfect he looks with Izzy or how good he is with her. Like a baby whisperer, but only, so insanely attractive that every pair of ovaries within a hundred-mile radius is at risk of exploding.

Hell, he should probably be restricted from walking around like this in public; he’s a danger to biological clocks everywhere.

When his phone vibrates on the table, he lifts it up to check the screen for a brief second before setting it back down. But other than that, he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even respond to the sender.

“What do you say we start heading back to your apartment?”

I nod, assuming he probably has somewhere he needs to be. Lord knows his Saturday plans probably didn’t include spending it with a frazzled mom and her baby. “I think that’s a solid plan. Izzy is going to need to eat soon.”

Rem makes quick work of getting—and paying for—the check, and before I know it, we’re back on the street and heading toward my building.

And it’s not long before we’re at my apartment and I’m unlocking the front door.

But when we step inside, I stop dead in my tracks.

Clean. Everything is clean.

“Uh…” I look around my living room and kitchen and even head into the guest bathroom to find it so clean I could probably eat off the tile floor. “I think I’ve been robbed…but only, they didn’t take anything. They…cleaned.”

Remy’s soft chuckle fills my ears, and when I walk out of the bathroom, I find him easing Izzy out of her carrier and putting her still-sleeping body in her vibrating chair by the couch.

“So…I have a bit of a confession,” he says, and his mouth morphs into a slight grimace. “Don’t be mad, but I hired someone, very trustworthy and highly recommended by my sister, mind you, to come clean your apartment while we were out today.”

“Mad?” I question. “Why would I be mad? I feel like a million pounds of stress have been lifted from my shoulders.”

“Really? So…you’re okay with this?”

“Remy, are you kidding me?” I retort and walk toward him to wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tightly. “I’m…I’m…just…thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back and hugs me tighter. “So, you also won’t be mad that I’ve made arrangements for the same very trustworthy cleaning team to come to your apartment once a week and clean.”

I lean back and search his eyes.

“You have too much on your plate,” he adds and taps his forehead against mine. “And I know it’s not a lot, but I just…want to help you however I can.”

This man. What am I going to do with him?

I’m in awe of him.

This day was a dumpster fire. I was stressed to the max and overwhelmed, and I felt like I was failing at being a mom to Izzy…failing at work… failing at pretty much everything, and all it took was one phone call to Remy for him to swoop in and turn everything around.

He was everything I needed him to be.

“You’re pretty awesome, you know that?” I whisper toward him, and he searches my eyes, our bodies still wrapped up in a tight embrace.

“So are you,” he whispers back, and his blue eyes flit down to my lips.

Our bodies are the closest they’ve been in I don’t know how many years, and it just…does something to me. Out of nowhere, a surge of arousal makes itself known in my belly and I find myself stepping even closer to him, sliding my hands up his back and wrapping them around his neck.

Our eyes meet again, and his hands are wrapped around my waist and my breasts are now pressed up against his chest, and I don’t know what we’re doing but I know that I really like how it feels to be right here, in Remy’s arms.

And I like how it feels to have the warmth of his body next to mine.

And I really like how it feels to be this close to him.

“Maria,” he says my name, but it’s not in question. It’s for something else. Something I can’t quite discern.

I move my face closer to his, my gaze flitting between his blue-as-the-sky eyes and his full, lush mouth.

And he’s doing the exact same thing.

Is Remy going to kiss me?

Am I going to kiss Remy?

I move my mouth closer to his, mere millimeters, but it feels like a mile.

But the other person in the room? The tiny, adorable baby in her vibrating chair?

Well, she has plans of her own.

Big plans that include belting out the kind of cry that makes Rem and me jolt away from each other as if we were about to commit a crime. Or you know…kiss.