Perfect Together by Kristen Ashley

“There aren’t many like you, baby,” she told him.

“You’ll find the one who can’t live without you.”

“Maybe.” Another shrug. “Maybe not. I just gotta get to the place where I understand I’m good as I am. Because I really am. Good, I mean. I can take care of myself. I know how to use a drill. I know how to use a tire gauge. I’ll be fine.”

That might be the most mature thing he’d ever heard her say.

“You will,” Remy agreed.

“Still, we had some fun, yeah?”

He gave her that.

“Yes, we did.”

Then he made certain to maintain the boundaries they were establishing.

“And then we didn’t.”

“Right,” she whispered, absolutely reading his message.

She picked up the wineglass again and threw back another big dose.

She set it down and returned her attention to him.

“Happy?” she asked.

He nodded.

“I’m glad,” she replied, her look and tone sharing she was being genuine, before she pulled in one last visible breath and said, “See you on the flipside…or as will probably be better for us both…not.”

She winked, it was supposed to be jaunty, but it failed.

She was sad and perhaps a little lost, and likely more than a little afraid.

But she didn’t give him any of that straight out, she held it back.

He still felt for her.

But he didn’t do anything about it.

Turning once to wave at him on the way, she left, and the door clicking closed behind her was one of the best sounds he’d ever heard in his life.

That might not be nice.

But one thing it absolutely was.

It was honest.





CHAPTER 33





Adulting





THE FINALE





Remy





“I’ll drop the charges.”

They were out by his pool, sitting next to each other in his armless chairs, a champagne bucket filled with ice, the martini shaker that still had half the double martini he’d stirred for Wyn in it on the table between them.

Remy was drinking a beer.

The sun was setting. The outside lights he had on a timer had already switched on. He’d left the wine room illuminated. It gave ambience, and it was a cool view.

And he’d just finished telling his wife about the surprising conversation he’d had with his ex.

“You don’t have to do that, honey,” he replied.

“She needs money. She clearly needs not to be further in the hole with her mother. Attorneys are expensive. We can all cut our losses and move on.”

“That’s big of you,” he noted. “It’s also unnecessary. She’s ready to face up to her actions.”

“Okay. But I think after your mother behaving like she did, and Bea behaving like she did, and neither of them willing to take even a step toward the center to find an impartial place to discuss things, Myrna going totally off the rails and having the wherewithal to drag herself back deserves to reap the rewards of demonstrating she has the capacity to be a decent human being.”

Remy sucked back a pull from his beer in preparation.

He dropped the bottle to his knee, swallowed the brew, and asked after what had not yet been shared, “My guess is that means things didn’t go well with Bea.”

“I didn’t time it, but I figure our conversation lasted five minutes. The last thing she said when my fabulous Valentino wedge was on her not-so-welcome mat as I was on my way out to my car, and out of our friendship, was not nice. So yes, I can confirm things didn’t go well with Bea.”

After saying that, she took a sip of her drink.

He watched her, and when she was done, he promised, “I can take it. You can tell me what she said.”

“Well, this time, it wasn’t all about you. It was about me and how weak a woman I am that I need you.”

Right.

There was all that had been going on the last few weeks.

There was him knowing Wyn was off to talk to Bea that afternoon, at the same time he was waiting for Myrna to come over, which had been stressful as fuck.

There was his conversation with Myrna, one that ended on a hopeful note, but it didn’t delete the fact that not only had she done all she’d done, he’d discovered she’d also used him for his money so she could take “a break” from being a responsible adult. And he still didn’t trust her, so it remained to be seen if she’d do as promised and leave them alone.

But none of that was the reason he took a breath to control his fury.

And failed at controlling his fury.

“That fucking cunt!” he roared.

Wyn, twisted in her seat to face him, only grinned at his reaction and took another sip of her martini.

After that, she drawled, “God, you’re hot when you get protective.”

“I’m not finding anything funny,” he growled. “That bitch is a goddamned bitch.”

“I’m not being funny. You’re undeniably hot when you get like this.”

“Wyn,” he warned.

She kept grinning.

Remy kept being angry.

“I wanna prove that piece of shit right, flip the neanderthal switch and demand you have nothing to do with that woman again, but it’s your choice. I will state, however, that I will be very displeased if you have anything to do with that woman again.”