Marie quickly tiptoed back to bed, wishing that she had grabbed something to wrap around herself on the way to the bathroom because Remy had the AC in his apartment cranked up to maximum. She slid back under the warm blanket, careful not to rustle the bed too much and disturb her still sleeping husband.
Her husband. The love of her life.
For years, Marie had carried around an emptiness that she refused to acknowledge, and eventually, it became like background noise. She had forgotten that there was a time before the dark hole had formed and hardened her heart. Had convinced herself that she just couldn't love as wholly as other people, and blamed her mutation for the distance she kept from everyone. How wrong she had been, because that morning, her heart was overflowing with love, and joy, and a contentedness that she hadn't thought possible.
They hadn't discussed it yet, but if she had to leave the mansion in order to stay with Remy, then she was prepared to make that move. She'd already walked away from him twice and barely survived the experience, no force in the universe could make her do it again. The team would just have to deal with her working remotely, like Kurt in Germany.
Light was streaming in through the crack in the curtains, but so far, Remy hadn't stirred. He was sprawled out on his stomach, with one foot hanging off the bed. Last night, after he had persuaded her to sleep in the nude, she had insisted that they do so under separate covers in case her skin turned on while she was asleep. Not that it did any good. The sheet had ridden down, and was barely covering Remy's lower half.
Which meant that Marie had a glorious view of his broad, muscular back. She grinned mischievously as she leaned over on his side of the bed. From his pattern of breathing, she was pretty certain that he had been awake for the past couple minutes at least.
Slowly, she trailed her finger up his spine, taking note of the two-inch wide scar she saw marring his skin along the way. She remembered his story about the merc who had gotten lucky with a knife, and once again thought of how close she had come to losing him. Never again. She placed a soft kiss on his shoulder blade, and watched his mouth curl up into a smile.
"I knew you were a faker," she whispered in his ear, then kissed his cheek.
His eyes opened, shining brightly. "And look what it got me." He reached for her, but she pulled back.
"I'm not sure I should reward your bad habits," she said playfully.
"No? Well then how about—"
BAM! The front door slammed, startling them both, and Marie's skin flipped on in response to the perceived danger.
"Remy!" a familiar voice boomed.
Marie looked over at Remy, who had buried his face in the pillow and was pounding his fist against the mattress. "Does your brother do this often?" she asked.
Remy heaved a great sigh and pushed himself up. "Recently, yes."
"Get your ass out of bed, or I'll come do it for you!"
"Give me a fucking minute!" he shouted in response, and threw back the covers.
"Did you do something to piss him off?" Now that the shock was over, and her powers had settled down again, Marie could see the humor in the situation. She swung her legs out of bed and got up.
"No, that's what he sounds like when he thinks he's being helpful," Remy said, busy gathering the articles of clothing that had landed on the floor on his side of the bed last night. "If I had pissed him off, there wouldn't have been a warning."
Marie caught her bra as it came sailing toward her, and flung Remy his shirt in return. "Maybe you shouldn't have given him a key."
He paused as he pulled on his jeans and gave her a look.
"Right," she said. "Thief." Remy had learned to pick a lock before he'd learned to ride a bike, and it was Henri who had taught him.
Remy came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her before she could put her bra on. He nuzzled her neck. "This is how I wanted the morning to go."
"We have the rest of our lives for that," she told him.
"Did I mention that I love you?"
She nodded. "Several times last night."
"It's all still true this morning."
He placed a series of kisses on her neck and collarbone, and as he did so, his hand traveled up her bare stomach.
Marie's breath hitched when his fingers found her nipple. "Remy, we can't."
"You're no fun," he teased.
"I'm plenty of fun. I just don't want to have an audience for where this is heading."
"And where might that be?" he asked as his other hand dipped beneath the waistband of her shorts.
Marie quickly calculated how fast and quiet they could be, then decided it was still a bad idea. She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. "What did I just say?"
"Marry me."
"That's not— Wait, what?" Surely she had misunderstood.
He spun her around to face him. "Let's get remarried, and have the wedding we didn't have the first time."
"You're serious."
He nodded. "Well?"
She grinned. "Of course I'll marry you again."
He picked her up with an arm around her waist and she held his face in both of her hands and kissed him.
Henri shouted again.
Marie rested her forehead against Remy's. "Sugar, if you don't get out there soon, he's going to come in here and get a real eyeful."
Remy sighed and set her back down. "Fine."
They scrambled to get the rest of their clothes on, and then Marie finger-combed Remy's hair after smoothing her own.
"All right, I think we're presentable now," she said. Then offered her hand to Remy, who took it and opened the bedroom door.
"Just what in the hell is so important that you had to drive over here at the crack of dawn?" he asked Henri, who had his back to them.
"It's eight-thirty," Henri drawled. He ran a hand across the back of the sofa, and then examined the charred bits of paper stuck to his fingers. "I've got time to kill before my appointment, and you said you wanted to hang out. If you'd bother to answer your phone once in a while, you would've known that I—" Henri stopped when he looked over and finally noticed Marie.
"Mornin' Henri."
"Mornin'," he replied, with the expression of a man who had just seen a ghost. When he recovered, he turned to Remy with an eyebrow raised in silent question.
"I'll make coffee," Marie offered, and then left the two brothers to talk in private.
It didn't take long to find the coffee in Remy's kitchen. It was the kind with chicory, of course, but she'd make it anyway, like a polite hostess.
Coffee in hand, she opened the next cupboard in search of mugs. It contained dishes instead, and she was on the verge of shutting the door again when the familiar pattern gave her pause.
He'd kept them.
After all his blustering about how much he hated them, Remy had actually kept the dishes from the house. It was silly, and sentimental, and luckily, Henri poked his head into the kitchen and interrupted her before any tears had a chance to form.
"No coffee for me, thanks," he said. "I'm going to head out now, but it was nice seeing you again."
His abrupt departure was a little surprising, but Marie imagined that Remy had persuaded him to leave. Possibly under threat of violence. And though she was eager to pick up where things had left off with Remy in the bedroom, she was actually a little disappointed that she wouldn't have a chance to chat with Henri.
"It was nice seeing you too."
He left in the direction of the front door after telling her goodbye, but then returned a second later. "Are you going to be in town for a while? If Mercy finds out that you're back and hears that I didn't invite you over for supper, I'll be sleeping on the couch for the next week."
Marie smiled. She had always liked Mercy. "A few more days, at least. Tell Mercy we'd love to come over. Just call Remy with the details."
"You done saying goodbye yet?" she heard Remy impatiently ask from the hall.
"You'll have to pardon this one," Henri said, jerking his thumb in Remy's direction, "He never learned his manners. It's a source of unending shame in this family."
Remy appeared in the kitchen doorway and pointed towards the apartment's entrance. "Out."
"Marie said y'all would be happy to come over for supper," Henri said, his grin making it clear that he was enjoying antagonizing his little brother.
"I heard," Remy replied.
"You gonna show up this time?"
"If you leave in the next two seconds, I might."
Henri chuckled as he walked away. However, just before the front door shut, he left Remy with a warning, "You know what's gonna happen if you disappoint my woman again."
"Sounds like there's a story there," Marie prompted, but Remy just groaned in response. "Oh, come on, tell me."
Reluctantly, he pushed off the door frame he had been leaning against, and joined her in the kitchen. "When I skipped Christmas last year, Mercy said she was tired of me missing family dinners, and threatened to put a curse on me if I missed any more. She'd do it too. Tante Mattie would help." He scrubbed a hand over his face and mumbled, "I've gotta get out of this city."
"I'm sure Henri means well."
"Mm, I'm not." He reached over and gently took the coffee can out of her hand. "The café across the street serves coffee that you're going to like better than anything in my cupboards. And, if you order cheese grits, they'll throw in a beignet as a lagniappe.
"Oh my god," Marie said, "I haven't had real cheese grits in years." Plus, who said no to a free beignet?
"Do you have a hotel room that we have to stop at first?" Remy asked. "Do you need to get your things?"
She shook her head. "I parked down the street. My bag is in the trunk of the car." And then she sheepishly added, "I was kind of hoping that I wouldn't need to get a room."
"That was mighty presumptuous of you, Mrs. LeBeau."
She gave Remy a look. "Well, if you had asked me to leave then I would've been all ready to make a hasty retreat back to the airport."
"I wouldn't have."
"I know." She pointed at the cupboard. "You kept our dishes."
"Yeah, well... I tried to get rid of 'em, mais they kind of grew on me."
Marie laughed. "And that's why I love you."
He gave her a skeptical look. "Because I have appalling taste in dishware? That's a pretty low bar—"
She put her finger on his lips and said, "Hush, you know what I mean." Then she removed her finger and gave him a quick kiss. "You have plenty of other good qualities too."
"You might need to tell me about them sometime. I'll make a list so that I can show Henri."
"Speaking of, what did you tell your brother about us?"
"That we were fixin' to get married for a second time, and if he behaved himself, I'd let him be the best man."
For some reason, she hadn't expected that. She'd barely processed the fact that they were together again. How could they go around telling everyone that they were getting remarried if they hadn't even had the time to talk about which one of them was going to move? People would have questions. She certainly did.
"You know, sugar, before we start sending out the wedding announcements, I think we ought to have a discussion about how all of this is going to work."
"You mean like where we're going to live?"
She nodded. "It's kind of an important detail."
"Good thing I've got it all figured out then," he said.
"You do? When did that happen?" Because she was pretty sure they'd both been too occupied last night to come up with any plans.
"When I was driving through Pennsylvania and was determined to win you back," he replied. "But it kind of hinges on one thing."
"What's that?"
"Is there still a teaching position open at that school of yours?"
"There might be," she said casually. "Why? You thinking about applying?"
"I think it's time for a change of scenery."
"But what about the Guild?" In her mind, that was the biggest sticking point. She knew that Remy couldn't leave it, nor would she ever ask him to. It was part of why she'd been mentally preparing for the possibility of having to live in New Orleans.
"There's a branch in New York," he said. "I'd still have to do jobs now and again, but at least I wouldn't be directly under Jean-Luc's thumb anymore. Besides, if it's as poorly run as the rumors say, then I reckon I'll be in charge of it in less than a year."
Marie was stunned. He really had put some thought into moving.
"And the bar?" she asked.
"Thierry can run it. I'll sign some papers and give him power of attorney."
She watched Remy's expression closely. "And you're going to be okay with that?"
"It was a distraction," he replied, then brought one of her hands to his mouth and kissed it. "One I don't need anymore."
But she had a feeling that he might miss it. "I want to come back here and visit as often as we can. I've got a lot of catching up to do with my father's side of the family." Plus, it would be nice to get away from New York on occasion.
He nodded in agreement. "And Henri might get lonely if he doesn't have anyone to annoy."
She could see it now. Henri would probably break into the mansion just to say hi. It was a good bet he'd bring Mercy and the cousins along too. "Well, we wouldn't want that, would we, sugar?"
Remy shook his head. "So, what do you think?" he asked. "We'll live in New York, but keep the apartment for when we come back?"
"That's..." It was too simple, wasn't it? Surely there was a catch somewhere.
"Or we could get a different apartment if you don't like this one? Or buy another house?"
Marie stopped Remy before he offered to build them a mansion with his own two hands. "It's not that. I just feel like this is too easy."
He gave her an incredulous look. "It's been almost eight years in the making. Nothing easy about that."
Maybe he was right, and they'd already paid their dues. Had their struggle, and now the stars were finally aligning so that they could be together.
Still...
"I can't guarantee that Storm will let you join the team," Marie said. Although she doubted that they were in a position to turn down the extra help.
Remy shrugged, unconcerned. "I can be pretty convincing."
"And we'll probably have to let Jubilee plan the wedding."
"Not a problem."
"You're also going to have to learn to play nice with Logan."
"Ehh, if I must." He leaned in closer and tucked several strands of white hair behind her ear. "Anything else?" he asked.
She shook her head minutely, and then gazed at him in amazement. "We're really going to do this."
He grinned against her lips as he kissed her. "We really are."