With Every Beat of My Heart

Summary: Day break. A slip of the tongue. Difficult recoveries.

Author’s Note: Thank you for following this story, I appreciate sharing it with you.

It took Remy several long minutes to realize where he was as his eyes drifted around his surroundings. The bed was larger and firmer than his, king-sized and dressed with fewer blankets. The weight of someone’s head warmed his shoulder and he felt their breath steaming his chest. He craned his neck down to peer into Logan’s face, sweet and relaxed in slumber, and Remy felt his heart fill. He tightened his embrace, enjoying how solid he felt and the scent of his hair and skin. The feeling was mutual, if the way Logan twined his leg around his in his sleep was any indication. He was such a teddy bear, Remy marveled. There was no awkwardness here, no fleeting looks of embarrassment or misread messages of how close he would allow himself to get to Remy. Remy smothered a sigh; they’d made progress, but they had a long way to go.

Logan arched into him, nuzzling Remy’s neck, and his low snores leveled off, changing to deep, even breathing. Remy smiled, giving Logan’s shoulder a slight squeeze.

“Waky, waky,” he murmured.

“Early,” Logan mumbled. “S’early, Jeannie…”

Remy froze.

Logan continued to seek him out in sleep. He ran his palm over Remy’s chest, tracing his ribs. He paused as he reached his heartbeat, exploring its quiet thumps. “Love you…” he murmured.

Shit.

Remy was torn. He could wake him fully and gently correct him, or he could let him linger in his assumption, and pretend those words for him. Either option left him feeling bereft, frustrated and confused.

Logan’s warmth and lingering caresses were making the decision difficult, even taking it out of his hands. That wonderful, firm mouth nipped at him, nibbling the edge of his chin, causing a ticklish shiver in his belly. Remy groaned, at a complete loss, and his hand betrayed him, combing through Logan’s sleep-tousled hair and dragging his head down toward his throat. This was always their stopping point, and it was so damned tempting…

Uh-uh. Not like this. Let him know who he’s dealing with.

“Chere,” he murmured, nudging him insistently, unwilling to stop the lips steaming his pulse.

“Mmm…

“Chere…Logan. C’mon, now. Gonna hafta let ol’ Remy get up. Gotta powder my nose.”

Gonna hafta let ol’ Remy get up. Logan froze and immediately took inventory of the situation, and of the warm, yielding body beneath his. Dark eyes snapped open and pinned Remy. His bedmate smiled at him, and the expression was lazy and amused. Sexy.

But Logan was at a loss. Had he said something out of turn? He cleared his throat, which was suddenly hoarse and dry.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Remy squirmed tellingly against him, and Logan rolled off of him to let him stretch. His voice came out on a yawn. “Mornin’. Gonna hafta get movin’. Wanna get to de hospital an’ see Mattie. Visiting hours are gonna start in a few minutes.”

“Shit. Right, right.” Logan searched his brain for possibilities of how to start his own day. “I wanna go with ya.”

“Dere gonna move Mattie to de third floor, mebbe for a couple days. Wanna make sure dey get her well situated and dat I know what her room number’s gonna be. Anna stayed overnight. I’m gonna eit’er bring her a few t’ings, or relieve her for a few hours.”

“Rem? Do ya need me to do anything for ya?”

“Not so much.”

“Serious. Let me help. I can help ya run errands if ya want, or make sure ya have dinner, or whatever. C’mon. Yer gonna be busy all day.” Remy pondered this a moment as he tugged himself reluctantly from Logan’s sleep-warmed sheets. His toes clicked as he padded across the floor. Logan didn’t avoid staring at him, taking in his leonine grace and the long, fluid lines of his body. Damn. Look at him. He was so tempted to pull him back into bed for a few more minutes to give him a proper good morning, but his boyfriend had to attend to matters at hand.

Boyfriend. The word felt odd, yet right. The hesitant feelings he had toward being with Remy dissolved, but he was still so afraid to misstep. “Just let me know, Remy,” he insisted as he rose groggily from the bed. He already missed the feel of Remy against him; his arms ached to hold him for a while longer, and he’d slept so well wrapped in his warmth and scent.

Remy stared back from the edge of the doorway, and he sighed heavily. “I’ll call ya. Let ya know how t’ings are movin’ along.”

“I’m worried about her too, kiddo.” Remy’s face crumpled briefly, and Logan’s gut clenched. He wanted so much to comfort him.

Remy put aside his earlier frustration at Logan’s slip of the tongue and returned to him, stepping into the arms that were already opening for him. This time his sigh was one of relief as Logan stood holding him, rocking him slightly and sharing his heartbeat with him. Hands stroked muscled backs and burrowed through tousled hair, and neither man minded the other’s morning breath as their lips locked in a drowsy, lingering kiss.

He could handle anything, no matter how dark and uncertain, with this man in his corner; Remy knew this deep in his soul.

Logan didn’t suggest they share the shower, since it was too tempting and they had too little time. Remy took care of business in the bathroom while Logan dumped out the cold pot of coffee and made a fresh one. He laid out his own work clothes and took out the steam iron and ironing board.

“Do ya need anything ta wear, Rem?” he called out from the hall, standing by the bathroom door. He wasn’t sure Remy could hear him over the steam of the shower.

“Non. Merci.” His voice was muffled by the spray. “Gon’ head home anyway and get somet’in’ fer Anna Marie. Gonna change dere.”

“Kay, darlin’.”

Remy was glad he couldn’t see him wince. He wondered if that was his pet name for Jean, now. Would he always feel that way, now? It rankled, making a shiver run over his skin. He scrubbed it away with the blue shower puff and foaming gel that hung from the knobs.

Minutes later, they looked like an odd couple, Remy in his running gear and Logan in his suit. They wolfed down a quick breakfast of eggs and toast and downed coffee. Logan poured them two commuter mugs of it to take on their separate trips.

“I’ll be home at dinner time. I won’t go out ta walk Daisy til I hear from you. Call me.”

“Might call ya sooner den dat, when dey tell me ‘bout Mattie an’ where dere plannin’ ta keep her.”

“Call me at work, then.” Logan knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on selling a thing until he heard from him. Remy nodded, then he knelt for kisses from Daisy, who’d been following him around the kitchen since he entered, thumping her tail and nosing him for attention. He doted on her for a minute, ruffling her ears and cooing endearments. She was as lovable as her daddy, he mused, and just as hungry for affection, shameless thing.

“Tired,” Remy complained as he prepared to leave.

“Didn’t sleep enough?”

“Not before I came here, chere.”

“Sorry.” Logan’s face was contrite as he reached down and took Remy’s hand, squeezing it. “Ya gonna be okay?”

“Nap later, and I’ll work out tonight.” He skipped mentioning that his run to Logan’s house was the closest he intended to his usual training for the rest of the day. His heart wasn’t in it.

“Okay.” He clapped Remy on the back. “See ya, kiddo.”

“Bye, Logan.” Remy stroked his cheek briefly, longingly, but Logan saw something troubled in his eyes before he darted out the door.

“Need a ride?”

“Non,” he insisted, already taking off at a fast jog. Logan heaved a sigh as he watched him go.

“That’s fine,” he murmured. Daisy whined behind him, already missing Remy, too.

*

“Inventory’s in, pet.”

“Huh?”

“Truck’s here. So’s Dickhead.” Logan grunted in amusement.

“Be right out.”

“You look tired.”

“Sleep was choppy last night. Got up early this morning and couldn’t drop all the way back to lala-land.” Betsy made a sound of sympathy and nodded.

“Come on, then.”

They went out to the back lot and watched Victor’s usual antics with the ramp and hand truck, sighing as they listened to him curse loudly while unloading the couches and chairs. He was in rare form, using more colorful phrases than usual.

“Why so uptight?” he inquired, looking Betsy up and down, disapproval evident in his face. Betsy was more reserved, wearing her reading glasses and her hair pinned up in a modest chignon. She was buttoned up in a navy blue pantsuit and nondescript bone-colored blouse underneath. The only makeup she wore was plain pink lipstick.

“Some of us have a job to do,” she sniffed. She accompanied these words with a testicle-shriveling, tight little smile. “Coffee?”

“Uh…nah,” Victor decided quickly. He handed her the clipboard, waited for her to sign it, then took it back gingerly, as though it had her cooties on it.

“Oh, have to hurry off?”

“See ya next month,” he barked over his shoulder as he took off at a lope.

Logan stood smirking beside her as Victor drove off. “Nice. Scary, but nice.”

Before she could reply, the phone rang in Logan’s office. He jogged to reach it, catching it on the third ring. “Salem Furniture Studio?”

“Chere?”

“Remy! What’s wrong?” Logan’s heartbeat thudded and knocked in his chest and he felt a cold flush at Remy’s tone, so stricken and panicked.

“Ya gotta come. Please.”

“I’m there.”

*

“She suffered a seizure,” the doctor explained in even tones. “She’s alert right now, but still a little shaken.”

“Can I see her?”

“Two visitors at a time. Family only.” His tone was strict.

“We are family,” Remy insisted, holding firmly to Logan’s hand. The doctor stared at them pointedly for a moment, then nodded.

“That’s fine. Check in with the nurse’s station before you leave, so they know you when you come back.” They needed no further urging, and after a cursory discussion with the charge nurse at the desk, they entered Mattie’s room.

She looked so wan and small bundled beneath several of the scratchy beige blankets. Her arm looked wizened and thin, her dark skin a stark contrast with the plain bedding and what seemed like miles of clear white tubing. Her dark eyes jerked around the room at the merest sound, and they widened briefly as they landed on Logan and Remy as they gently closed the door. Logan pulled up a chair by the bed and nodded for Remy to sit down.

“Hey, Mattie,” he greeted hesitantly, offering her as friendly a smile as he could manage, but Logan’s voice shook. Mattie groaned in response, and her hand trembled as she reached for Remy. Her other arm lay slack over her belly, not even twitching with her other hand’s movements. Remy stroked her hair tenderly, bending down to kiss her soft cheek.

“How’s my best girl?” Remy murmured. “Gave me a scare.”

“Hnnnn…” she agreed. Her thumb stroked his knuckle reassuringly.

“Dey only let two of us in at a time. Can’t throw dat big party we had planned in here, after all,” Remy quipped, but his eyes shone with unshed tears. Mattie weakly shook her head, as though she wanted to tell him he was full of beans.

“They gave ya a room with a view. You can see right into the parking lot from here,” Logan informed her.

“Heh.” One side of Mattie’s lips quirked up. She tugged her hand free from Remy’s grasp briefly, then gestured to Logan.

“She wants ya ta come closer,” Remy supplied. Logan obeyed, standing on the same side of the bed as Remy. He felt awkward, not wanting to intrude on Remy’s time with his aunt, yet he was touched that Remy wanted to include him in his time with her. Mattie’s dark eyes, normally so clear, were slightly bloodshot and rheumy, but they pierced Logan, seeming to look inside him. Her hand gripped his with surprising strength. She struggled to say something. He nodded for her to take her time, stroking her slim hand that felt so delicate in his. The birthdate on her wristband told him that she wasn’t a young woman anymore, and that pulled at him, made the moments in the room more precious.

“They’re gonna take good care of ya,” Logan told her. “We’re gonna make sure of it.”

“Nnh.” Her eyes darted over to Remy, then back to Logan. She nodded to Remy. Remy stared quizzically, confused.

“She’s got somet’in’ on her mind,” he remarked.

“She’s glad ta see ya,” Logan decided.

“Hrrmm…” She was still nodding at Remy, then carefully extracted her hand from Logan’s. She gestured to Remy again. He took her hand once more, confused.

“Whatsamatter, chere?”

“Hnn,” she pronounced, gesturing to Logan, who was resting his hand on the arm rail of the bed. She was growing slightly irritated with them both, and neither of them knew why.

Mattie took matters into her own hands, or her good one, at any rate. She tugged Remy’s hand over to Logan’s, then curled his fingers around the back of it before she released her grasp, tired from the effort.

She’d made her point.

“She wants me ta take care of you, too,” Logan murmured. His eyes pricked.

“Non. She wants me ta take care of you,” Remy argued.

“Point taken,” Logan agreed. “Thanks, Mattie.” Logan wrapped his arm around Remy in a fond hug. Mattie managed a vestige of a smile.


Anna Marie came by later that day, refreshed and groomed, bringing another flower arrangement to join the one Logan brought the night before. Logan looked up from an episode of Days of Our Lives and offered her a smile.

“Lookin’ good, Anna.”

“Feel like my eyes are burnt out holes in mah head,” she confessed, and despite her careful efforts with her makeup, Logan silently agreed she was right. Her green eyes held fine lines beneath them that weren’t there before. He gave her a hearty hug that she encouraged to him to let linger for a minute, then let him go. “It was nice of ya ta come, shoog.”

“Nothing’ll keep me away.”

“I was waitin’ on pins an’ needles, wonderin’ if Remy’d call me when Ah left. Didn’t wanna leave, but Ah had ta check in at work. Sure nuff, as soon as Ah’m done checkin’ mah voice mail, Ah get a call. I turned off mah PC, turned on mah phone’s voice mail, and ran back out like a shot.”

“She was up and around a lil’ bit ago,” Remy told her. “Drop in an’ see her before she takes anot’er nap.”

“Might stay with her anyway, whether she’s sleepin’ or not,” Anna decided. “Might be nice if one of us was with her when she wakes up.”

“What’d ya bring?” Logan nodded to a carryall Anna had slung over her shoulder.

“Comfort items. Lotion. Warm socks. A book that Ah can read ta her if she wants. Might even give her a pedicure when she’s up to it.”

“She needs de pamperin’,” Remy agreed. Logan was silent.

One of the things he’d noticed while Jean was in the hospital was the neuro-trauma patients. They almost always had long, overgrown toenails when they’d been in the hospital for several days, or even weeks. Something about it always unnerved him.

Anna Marie studied both men thoughtfully for a minute. “Ya both look worn out.”

“I’m fine,” Remy assured her. “No naggin’, Anna Marie.”

“That’s mah job. Someone’s gotta keep ya in line. Mattie’d want it ta be me.” She socked his shoulder playfully, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it.

*


Dinner was a quiet affair at home. Anna Marie heated up the leftovers from their cancelled get-together, and to Mattie and Remy’s credit, everything was superb. Logan scraped the last drops of jambalaya from his bowl with his spoon before Remy chided him to stop.

“Mec, have some more! C’mon, now!”

“There’s plenty,” Anna Marie encouraged easily, holding out the serving pot with ladle raised.

“Nah. Just gettin’ the last bit, I’m stuffed!”

“Ya sure, Logan? Loosen that belt, and ya can make room for a little more.”

“S’okay, Anna. I’m good. This was amazing.” She beamed.

“Tell yer boy here that. Remy an’ Mattie have always torn it up in the kitchen. Used to be fun back in the day when they’d get Jean-Paul in there, too.” Logan set his bowl down and sat back.

“Did he cook?”

“Non,” Remy confirmed. “Hardly ate anyt’ing, eit’er. Jus’ loved bossin’ ev’rybody around. Dat wuz part of his charm.”

“Mattie came close ta smackin’ him with her spoon a few times. But she enjoyed him. Ya woulda liked him,” Anna Marie told Logan.

“Yeah. Probably would have.” Logan thought about the pictures of the younger man in Remy’s portfolio. He didn’t know much about him, above and beyond the tidbits Remy had shared with him now and again.

“He was such a smartass, not unlike some fellas we know,” Anna Marie said meaningfully. Remy swatted her with a rat-tailed cloth napkin, and she yelped. He was flushed, embarrassed that she was talking about his old love with his current one. “He was really meticulous. Compulsively neat, alphabetized his book, CD and movie collections, never went out the door without every stitch of clothing neat and pressed, even his jeans.”

“That’s nice,” Logan murmured. He got up from the table, feeling awkward suddenly, unsure of why. He stacked his dishes in his hands and carried them into the kitchen.

“Sit tight, ya don’t hafta do dat,” Remy called after him.

“No problem. Just wanna help.”

“Yer company,” Anna Marie argued, standing and gathering dishes and utensils, too. Remy sighed.

“Why don’tcha both siddown,” Remy said peevishly. “Ain’ even had dessert yet. Mattie’d be disappointed if we didn’ do her peach cobbler justice an’ eat it.”

“That’s okay,” Logan called back as he began to fill one side of the sink with hot, soapy water. Remy sighed as he followed them into the kitchen.

“Quit dat,” he murmured as he sidled up to Logan and set the remaining dishes and glasses on the counter. “Relax. Yer my guest, chere. Mattie’d tan my hide if she knew I had ya up in de kitchen doin’ de dishes.”

“Lil’ dishwater won’t kill me.” He managed a smile to reassure him, but Remy read something troubled in his eyes. He grunted under his breath and gave his back a brief clap.

“A’ight.” Remy went to the refrigerator and pulled out the casserole dish with a Lucite lid. “M’gonna put dis out. I’m gonna have some, even if y’all are bashful.”

“Who you callin’ bashful? Ya just wanna hog it all ta yerself, brat!” Anna Marie cried, swatting Remy back with a dish towel. Remy proved her claim false by taking down three small plates from the cupboard. He set the casserole in the microwave and started the timer.

“Ain’ anyt’in’ ya can do about it, eit’er, chere.”

“The hell there ain’t!” Logan ducked out of the way when she snatched the sink’s spray nozzle from his hand while he was rinsing a bowl, and Remy hissed in surprise as she doused him with a warm stream that soaked his tee.

“Shit!” Logan muttered, dropping the dish back into the sink and stepping out of the way.

“Not so fast, bub!” Anna crowed. “Don’t go hidin’ behind him, ya coward!” Remy stuck out his tongue from over Logan’s shoulder as he darted behind him. “Logan’s not gonna protect ya!”

“She’s got ya there,” he admitted.

“He’s fair game, too!” she cried as she hosed both of them down liberally.

From that point, it was pretty much all over…


Minutes later, they all sat at the kitchen table on Mattie’s wooden chairs, covering them with dish towels first. Logan’s hair kept dripping, and he blew it back from his forehead periodically as he ate his cobbler.

“It’s chilly in here,” Anna remarked.

“Dat’s cuz yer wet,” Remy said matter-of-factly. Her top was so wet it clung to her; Remy was silently amused to notice she was standing up at attention.

“Get yer mind outta the gutter,” she sniped. Logan snorted; Remy grinned.

“You said it, chere, not me.”

They sat and talked well into the night, long after the cobbler was down to mere crumbs. Throughout their chat, Logan never noticed that he sat closer to Remy, eventually shoulder to shoulder at the table. They elbowed each other occasionally, patting each other or catching each other’s hands to make a point.

Anna watched them thoughtfully. “Peas in a pod,” she murmured, yawning.

“What wuz dat?”

“Nuthin’. Gettin’ late.” She rose and stretched until her joints cracked.

“Stayin’ here?”

“Nope. Ah’m gonna head back home and set mah alarm so Ah can go straight over tomorrow morning and bring Maddie some more stuff and make sure her things make it ta her room all right.”

“Dat’s fine, chere.”

“I’m gonna turn in, too, kiddo,” Logan confessed.

“Yer desertin’ me too?”

“Ya look tired, Rem.” Logan was torn. His natural inclination was to turn off the kitchen lights, lock up and follow Remy upstairs, but he didn’t want to take that liberty. He also didn’t want to stay out all night and leave Daisy alone; the thought made him feel like an errant parent. Anna made shooing motions at Logan before she headed for her purse.

“Don’t run off on mah account,” she told him cheekily. “Ain’t gonna hurt mah feelin’s none if ya decide ta stay.” Logan flushed to the roots of his hair.

“Uh…”

“C’mon, now. Ah’m a grownup an’ Ah’m used ta a certain amount of bein’ able ta get up in Remy’s face and his business. Ya like him, right?”

“Uh…”

“Yer both grownups!” She swatted Logan and stuck out her tongue at Remy with emphasis. “Look, buddy, don’t let this man slip through yer fingers. Just cuz Ah think he’s a step above toe jam doesn’t mean ya can’t go for it and grab him with both hands.”

“Remy’s ‘bout five steps above toe jam,” he said resentfully, jutting his chin at a stubborn angle. “Get it right, chere.”

“Ya know I was never good at math,” she reminded him. “Five steps. Sheesh.”

“Dat’s more like it.” But he was watching Logan, amused and embarrassed in equal amounts.

“Scram. Ah wanna talk ta yer man. You, you get ta walk me out ta mah car.” She grabbed Logan by the elbow, and he helplessly allowed her to drag him out the door.

Once they were outside, Logan felt a slight chill from the autumn night’s breezes and the hint of dampness left in his clothes. Anna keyed open her car and got into it, talking to Logan from her rolled-down window.

“Awright. Listen up. Be good ta that man.”

“Aye, aye.”

“Ah mean it.”

“I know ya do, darlin’.”

“Ah’m serious as a heart attack.”

“So’m I.” Logan sobered. “Anna, don’t worry. Ya don’t hafta tell me twice.”

“Shoog, Ah’ll yell it from the hilltops. That boy has been through a LOT. He deserves someone who’ll be there through thick an’ thin for him, ya hear? He likes you, Ah can tell. Lights up whenever anyone mentions yer name.” She told him pointedly, “Make sure ya make yer needs clear, and that ya don’t give him mixed messages or walk into this half-assed.”

“That ain’t what I’m about.” He was annoyed, wondering what she was getting at.

“Truth be told, shoog, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure ya were Remy’s type when Ah met ya. Not that ya ain’t fantastic. Just wondered if ya swung the same way.” His cheeks burned.

“Yer awful blunt.”

“Just part of mah charm.”

“If ya wanna call it that.”

“Touche. Ah get it. But Ah’m just sayin’…are ya with Rem because those are yer true feelings, or are ya just tryin’ him on?”

“I don’t play that shit. I’m with Remy because he’s Remy. Period. There ain’t anything ta ‘try on.’ He’s the right one. And he’s the right man. For me.” She nodded. A slow smile spread over her face and she reached out and squeezed his hand.

“That’s what Ah wanna hear.”

“Oh, that was all?” Logan quipped. “If yer done grillin’ me, I think I’m well done by now.”

“Might hafta stick a fork in ya ta make sure. Thanks fer walkin’ me out. G’night, Logan.”

“Night.” He stood out long enough to wave after her as she pulled out of the driveway. He trotted up the front steps and let himself back inside with a low knock. “Remy?”

The kitchen was empty, which puzzled him. Logan suddenly heard the sound of running water and smelled the scent of toothpaste in the hallway when he turned the corner. “Rem?”

“Gimme a sec, chere.” The bathroom light and fan clicked off and Remy joined him shortly. Logan was surprised to already see him dressed in a plain dark tee and flannel pajama bottoms.

“That was fast.”

“Ya were out dere long enough,” he accused.

“Sorry.”

“Ain’t yer fault. Dat’s jus’ Anna.”

“Yeah, it is,” Logan agreed. Remy chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“Gave ya a once-over?”

“I’ve still got some of my ass left.”

“Looks good t’me.” Remy crooked his finger at him. “C’mere, baby. Give us a lil’ ol’ kiss g’night.” Logan huffed but obliged, closing his beefy, warm hands around Remy’s narrow hips. Remy’s lips were firm and ardent against his, doing their level best to leave him weak in the knees. Logan’s arms coiled around his waist and his palms splayed over his lean, hard back, counting his vertebrae through the thin cotton. Remy moaned into his mouth, sighing in contentment.

They teased and played for a few minutes, fine with taking their time, lingering over a goodnight that threatened to be no such thing. It was so hard, yet again, to take that next step, or not to yet. Remy still felt Logan holding back, and it drove him batshit.

He knew the reasons why, even though he didn’t want to think about it.

Logan pulled back, eyeing him. “Ya okay?”

“M’fine.”

“Sure?”

“Yup.” He nibbled the top of Logan’s cheek, then kissed the bridge of his nose. “Kiss Daisy g’night, too.”

“She’s gonna be disappointed that I came home without ya,” Logan mused. Conflict was written on Remy’s fine features. He laid his palm against Logan’s jaw, cradling it and stroking his warm skin with his thumb. He sighed.

“Tell her Remy’ll be over in time for dinner an’ our walk, den. Better yet, bring her tomorrow mornin’.”

“Where?”

“De beach. Dawn. Ain’ no point in givin’ up a good t’ing. Visitin’ hours don’ start til eight. Daisy might like some quality time wit’ her daddy an’ some time outta de house.”

“The ass crack of dawn,” Logan muttered. “Yer lucky I like ya so much.”

“We can have de sun t’ourselves,” Remy reminded him, shrugging.

“I already do,” Logan murmured, leaning in and steaming Remy’s lips, “whether ya get me up early or not.”