Читать книгу Reid's Runaway Bride - Tracy Madison - Страница 10

Chapter Three

Far too early the next morning, Reid rolled over and stared at the clock, trying to decide if there were any point in attempting to get a little more shut-eye. He should. The day ahead promised to be challenging on myriad fronts, but he doubted he’d have any more luck in turning off his brain now than he had throughout the long, long night.

A certain flame-haired woman had occupied his thoughts, along with vivid—and unwanted—images of her asleep on the living room sofa in nothing but her birthday suit. He knew better, of course. Her parting shot, while an excellent and creative maneuver in putting an end to the juvenile game he’d stupidly started, was entirely false. This knowledge, however, hadn’t stopped the images of a naked, prone Daisy from interfering with his ability to sleep.

He remembered her body with full and absolute clarity.

Reid groaned and punched his pillow. Why the hell had he stated they would live together? There were other options. Namely, he could have continued to be a presence in the girls’ daily lives without the added difficulty of sleeping here. Easy enough to stop in after work, spend some time with Erin and Megan and return to his house when the girls were tucked into bed for the night. That would’ve been the sane option.

But no. The words as of now, we’re living together had flown from his mouth, and once they had, he’d obstinately stuck to his guns. And even now, after a full night of considering the insanity of coexisting with Daisy, he wouldn’t back out. The lines had been drawn.

He’d have to be careful, though. Within minutes of her arrival, he’d realized that whatever immunity he’d developed in regard to Daisy had weakened. She still held power over him. This concerned him. Unfortunately, it also fascinated him.

If she managed to squirrel in past his remaining defenses—if he made the almighty mistake of loving her again—he wasn’t confident he’d recover when she left. The first go-round had nearly destroyed him. It had taken far too many months to locate the smallest, most fragile foothold in which to begin building the rest of his life on.

The idea of having to rebuild that foothold from scratch petrified him to the bone.

Frustrated with his seeming inability to push Daisy out of his mind for more than a few minutes, Reid chose to focus on the practicalities of what needed to occur. Due to the weather, he had—at minimum—an unexpected morning off.

Since the prior night’s storm hadn’t abated, and the high-velocity winds combined with the unrelenting snowfall had resulted in blizzard conditions, the mountain passes were closed. Later, once the weather calmed some, he and his fellow ski patrollers would sweep the mountain to determine the level of damage and where avalanche-control measures were required.

For now, though, he was relieved to have some additional personal time in which to help the girls grow more comfortable with their aunt. Also, he needed to apprise Daisy of Erin and Megan’s schedule and a few of their individual quirks.

Every now and again, Megan would decide she’d only wear clothes and eat foods of a certain color. Reid hadn’t yet determined a reason for this behavior, but a few days ago she’d chosen blue. Most of her menu had revolved around blueberries.

Perhaps not the most balanced diet, but for one day, it had worked well enough.

And Erin, ever since her mother’s death, often required something to hug whenever she was emotional or sitting for an extended length of time. A pillow or a stuffed animal or, once or twice, her backpack or her coat. Typically, this was handled without too much of a problem.

But if such an item wasn’t close at hand at the wrong moment, she’d become fretful. To combat this, Reid unobtrusively ascertained that a stuffed animal was always nearby.

Major obstacles? No. But Daisy needed to be made aware of them, nonetheless.

Reid pushed out a long breath and tried to relax his muscles. If he fell asleep right this instant, he’d get an hour before the girls woke and the day began. Using a centering technique, he envisioned being on top of the mountain in perfect ski weather. The sun shone, the sky held the color of a robin’s egg and the powder was...glorious.

In his head, he inhaled a lungful of cold, fresh air, felt the bite of the wind against his cheek and prepped his body for takeoff. He was a few short seconds from the push and the exhilarating ride down when the scene blinked out and Daisy appeared.

A naked and prone Daisy, on the sofa downstairs. The deep red hue of her hair in stark contrast with the pale warmth of her skin. Her blue-green eyes—filled with desire and love, need and longing—were directed at him. And a soft, seductive smile played upon her lips.

God. That look—that smile—had always done a number on him.

Forcing his eyes open, he gave up on the idea of sleep. His agenda now consisted of a cold shower and a pot of hot, strong coffee. Then he’d get started on breakfast and hope that today was one of Megan’s “rainbow” days, which basically meant zero color preferences.

After that...well, he’d figure out the rest as needed.

Reid made the bed and grabbed a selection of clean clothes, including a pair of heavy work jeans and a thick forest-green cable-knit sweater, and headed for the upstairs bathroom. He’d no more than entered the hallway when a blur of color sped toward him with a...well, he didn’t quite know what to call this particular canine noise.

Not a growl or a howl. Not really a bark, either. Yip was too small of a word, and didn’t come close to the note of exuberant challenge erupting from the animal’s throat.

“Really?” he said when Jinx collided with his ankles. Bare ankles, at that, since he wore a pair of boxer shorts. “This is the way it’s going to be, huh? Every time you see me?”

The dog growled in reply and latched on to his left ankle in a surprisingly gentle grasp, as if searching for the pant leg she knew should be there. She didn’t hurt him, didn’t come close to actually biting, just grumbled and huffed with a few light gnaws tossed in for good measure.

More amused than annoyed, he let this go on for a good thirty seconds or so before deciding enough was enough. Walking carefully, to avoid squashing the crazy dog, he made his way down the hallway until he reached the bathroom.

“That’s it,” Reid said, as he turned on the light and put his clothes on the counter. “The end of the road. Go find a ball or, I don’t know, something to sniff.”

Not to be deterred, Jinx trailed into the bathroom with him, darting around his legs as he moved and bounding toward his ankles whenever possible. If it weren’t for the incessant growling, he’d think the beast just wanted to play.

“Listen up,” he said, feeling somewhat idiotic for trying to reason with a dog. “I really hope it’s only men you don’t like, because two little girls live in this house. If you’re this ornery around them, your visit will be awfully short.”

Since Jinx seemed unimpressed by this morsel of logic, Reid guided the dog to the hallway using his ankles as bait. She was quicker than he was, though, and managed to squeeze back into the room the second he started closing the door.

Obviously, another tactic was called for.

Shaking his head, he picked up the dog. Jinx wiggled in his grasp and began growling in an elongated manner that damn near sounded as if she were trying to form the necessary words to talk to him. Ludicrous thought. He blamed his lack of sleep.

He hefted the dog up, so they were eye to eye. “Pay attention, pooch. We can do this the easy way and become friends or you can remain miserable for however long you’re here. I guarantee you a happier visit if we’re friends. A visit that might just include table scraps and belly rubs. Your choice. Friends or miserable living companions? Let me know.”

And if a dog’s eyes could narrow in deliberation, Reid would’ve sworn Jinx’s did. Nonsensical, of course, but hell...that was what it looked like.

“That’s right, you consider that.” Petting the dog, he moved into the hallway and halfway down the stairs, where he put her down. “Find something to do. Or...I know, why don’t you wake up Daisy and tell her to make breakfast. And coffee. Strong coffee.”

He then retraced his steps without looking over his shoulder.

Thirty minutes later, showered and dressed but no more comfortable with his new living arrangements, he cautiously peered into the hallway. No sight or sound of Jinx.

Hell, if he could get a man-hating, irrational pooch to leave him alone, then he could certainly handle being around Daisy without repeating old patterns. Yesterday had been a shock to the system, that was all. Of course he’d reacted strongly.

Today was a different matter. She wouldn’t be able to get to him on the same level that she had last night. Besides which, his memories were of a woman—no more than a girl, really—who likely no longer existed. He’d changed in the past eight years. Surely, she had, as well.

The tight, suffocating pressure encasing his chest lightened. Perhaps he should view this...madness as a blessing in disguise. He and Daisy could finally have the conversation they should have had years earlier. She could fully answer his questions and...well, ask her own once he confessed that he’d known the truth about her paternity before reading her letter.

He’d tell her all of it. The overheard argument. His decision to keep what he’d learned to himself until after their wedding. How his past self couldn’t bear to see her hurt, couldn’t allow her to go through even a second of what that knowledge would do to her in the days before they were to be married. How he’d wanted that moment of their lives to remain unmarred and whole.

Good enough reasons, Reid supposed, for keeping such a secret. But well-meaning didn’t equate to what was right or just or honorable. And hell, he hadn’t saved her from a damn thing.

She’d likely be spitting mad by his admittance. That was fine. Due and deserved, even. And he had his own brew to get off of his chest, over the way she’d ended their relationship and had just...walked into the sunset. Without him. Yeah. He had a lot to say on that front.

A difficult conversation for both of them, no doubt. But...restorative, too? Should be.

Confidence settled in, replacing every other sentiment he’d warred with throughout the night. His defenses were solid. His heart was safe.

His immunity, thank the Lord, remained intact.

Reid held this belief, this confidence, for the length of time it took to reach the kitchen from the upstairs hallway. She was there, dressed in an oversize purple flannel shirt worn as a nightgown, her elbows planted on the counter and her chin in her hands, while she stared at the slowly brewing coffeepot. And he was...mesmerized.

A simple scene. Nothing overtly sexy or out-of-the-ordinary about it. But his heart seemed to stop beating. His lungs seemed to stop taking in air. Every last muscle seemed to lose the ability to move. He was, for the next several seconds, frozen in time. Nothing but a statue, really—gifted with sight, thought and emotion.

In a rush of sensation, of raw awareness, his body started functioning again. His prior arguments fell away. They were meaningless and false. Nothing more than the desperate ramblings of a man who recognized he was a goner but wasn’t prepared for surrender.

But now, Reid understood that a choice had never really existed. Without any further hesitation or the slightest whisper of doubt, he surrendered. And he knew that he would do whatever it took, whatever was in his power, to make certain that he saw this scene—Daisy, soft and rumpled from sleep—every morning for the rest of his life.

Well, hell.

Reid shook his head and swallowed a silent groan. Nope, he didn’t have to worry about falling in love with Daisy again. That would be impossible.

He’d never stopped loving her to begin with.

* * *

There were men who could enter a room, not say a word, not do anything but stand in stillness, and every other person in that space would pause, turn and look. Reid Foster was such a man. He’d always had this quality, this...charismatic, magnetic aura, even as a boy.

So, despite her tiredness or the fact that she faced the opposite direction, Daisy sensed Reid’s presence the instant he entered the kitchen. She didn’t move or greet him or show any sign that she knew he stood behind her. Rather, she just waited.

For the coffee, which she desperately needed. For him, to set the tone, the cadence, of how they were going to start the day. In polite resignation or veiled hostility? With sexual innuendo or calm solidarity? She hoped for the solidarity. That somehow they would find a way to cross the minefield to band together, for the sake of Parker and her nieces, and become a...team.

But she wasn’t holding her breath.

“Darlin’, you must be a psychic. Or a genie,” Reid said, his voice rich and warm and holding the tiniest thread of amusement. The warmth got to her the most, brought to mind all of those yesteryears she’d spent the entirety of the night trying to forget. “If any man on the face of God’s green earth could use a cup of coffee right about now, that man would be me.”

“Sorry. Not a psychic or a genie,” Daisy replied, keeping her tone casual, confused by his. His warmth, his friendliness, his outward acceptance of her bore no resemblance to the man from last night. The question was...why? “Jinx tattled on you. Mentioned you were on the owly side, in need of sustenance and caffeine.”

In truth, she’d been on her way to the kitchen when she overheard Reid’s conversation with her dog. And she’d had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing out loud.

“That’s...ah, rather perplexing,” Reid said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Which part?”

“All of it.” Before she could blink, he was standing next to her, reaching into the cupboard for a couple of coffee mugs. “To start, I have no idea what owly means. To finish...your dog mentioned I wanted coffee and food? How does that work, exactly?”

“Owly means cranky.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, so Reid would think the reaction was due to being cold and not his close proximity. Too bad she couldn’t fool herself. “And yes, Jinx and I have a method of communicating that defies logic.”

“Uh-huh. Then why does she still hate men?” He looked around the room. “Where is she, anyway? Hiding out somewhere, ready to attack?”

“Nope. She’s sleeping in the living room. Seems her quick sojourn outside this morning wore her out.” Or maybe Jinx’s feisty altercation with the man of the house had done that. Daisy could recall a few altercations—on the pleasant side of the equation—with Reid that had left her exhausted. “As to the other? I told you. I trained her to be that way.”

“Right,” he said matter-of-factly. “To protect you from the unwanted attention of men, I take it? Since you’re a single woman living in L.A.”

“Well, you know, can’t be too careful.” Come on, coffee, Daisy thought, staring at the ridiculously slow drip, drip, drip of the machine. She needed the distraction as much, if not more, as she needed the caffeine. “What about you? Do you have a woman-hating dog waiting in the wings, to protect you from the unwanted attention of females?”

“Nah.” Reid gave her a lazy, sexy sort of smile. She felt that smile all the way to her toes. Not good. Not good at all. “Haven’t found the need.”

“Gotcha.” He hadn’t found the need because he wanted female attention or...? Striking out that thought—fast—Daisy put a few inches of space between her and Reid. Just to simplify the mechanics of breathing. “Um. So, when do the girls usually wake up? Breakfast will be done soon. Baked French toast. Cinnamon. I hope they like cinnamon.”

“Should be any minute. In fact—” Reid inhaled, as if drawing in strength “—we should probably have a quick discussion on how to handle their questions.”

“Sure,” she said, content to move into safer territory. “Shouldn’t be too difficult. I’m their aunt, here to stay with them while their father recovers. But you’ll still be here, so their schedules won’t change too much in that regard.” While this conversation didn’t seem to be heading into the same danger zone as last night, she had every intention of standing her ground. “That is what we decided, right? Unless you’ve changed your mind about staying here?”

“Nope, can’t say that I have.” Reid grabbed the coffeepot and filled his mug and then hers. “But I thought we’d have some time while the girls were in school to talk things over. School’s canceled for the day, though, so—”

“There’s no school today?” a soft, tentative voice said from the other side of the kitchen. “And you’re my aunt Daisy? Really and truly?”

“Hey there, peanut,” Reid said. “And the answer is yes, to both of your questions.”

Turning, Daisy took a good, long look at her younger niece, Megan. And her heart melted into a big, wet puddle. Megan’s doe-brown eyes and fine light blond hair reminded Daisy of the girls’ mother. Sweet and fragile and innocent beyond words.

“Morning, Megan,” she said brightly. “And yes, I’m your aunt Daisy.”

“I don’t remember you.” Then, shyly dropping her gaze, Megan said, “But I sleep with the doll you gave me for Christmas almost every night. I named her Holly.”

“Holly is a wonderful name, and I’m happy you like her so much.” Crossing the room, Daisy kneeled in front of the little girl and resisted the almost overwhelming desire to pull her close for a hug. “It’s okay that you don’t remember me. You were only two the last time I saw you. But I’m glad we can be together now, and I promise we’ll have lots of fun.”

Long lashes blinked. Ever so slowly, Megan raised her chin until her eyes met Daisy’s. A small, hesitant smile appeared. “I like fun. Erin does, too.” And then, as if worried that Daisy might not know—or remember—who Erin was, she said, “Erin is my sister. She’s seven. I’m five. And she has hair that looks like yours.”

“Does she?” Daisy knew this, of course, as Parker sent a photo of the girls with his Christmas card each year. “The red hair comes from your grandmother. My—and your daddy’s—mom. Just like your beautiful blond hair comes from—”

Uh-oh. Was it taboo to mention Bridget? She glanced toward Reid, hoping he’d give her some type of a signal, but his attention was focused on Megan.

“My mommy,” Megan elaborated, her voice carrying a note of pride. Sadness, too, but that was natural. “I...I don’t remember her much. But Daddy says that all the time about my hair.”

Daisy’s throat closed in emotion. “Yes, that’s what I was going to say. That you remind me of your mother,” she said gently. “Ready for breakfast?”

Before Megan could reply, Reid—who had quietly watched their exchange while sipping his coffee—asked, “Is this a color day, peanut?”

A curious question. Just one more to ask later. And, not that she’d admit this, but her few seconds of talking with Megan had made it all-too-obvious how badly Daisy required Reid’s input. She was even...grateful for any help he was willing to give. Now, more than ever, it seemed essential that she didn’t screw this up.

Megan wrinkled her nose in thought before giving her head a decisive shake no.

“Well, then. A rainbow day it is,” Reid said easily. “Why don’t you run upstairs and get your sister while your aunt and I serve breakfast?”

“Okay.” Megan started to reach for Daisy and then stopped, as if unsure. Daisy opened her arms and waited, sensing the decision needed to remain in Megan’s hands. One second passed. Two seconds. Three... And then, all at once, the little girl pushed herself forward and hugged her tight. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered before letting go.

“I’m glad I’m here, too.” After Megan dashed out of the kitchen in search of her sister, Daisy said, “That went better than I expected. She’s a sweet little thing, isn’t she?”

“Yup, she is.” Reid began setting the table. Taking his lead, Daisy removed the baking dish of French toast from the oven. A few minutes of not-too-awkward silence ensued. Once he’d poured the orange juice, he said, “You were good with her, Daisy. And...well, I’ve reached a decision I feel is only fair to share with you.”

“Um. Thank you.” An unexplainable shiver of apprehension and foreboding brought a coating of goose bumps to Daisy’s arms. “What decision might that be?”

“Well, it’s like this,” Reid said in a slow and purposeful cadence. “I walked in here this morning all set to make the best of this situation, and there you were, hunkered over the coffeepot in that flannel getup you’re wearing. And I was smacked with a...profound realization.”

Heat, instant and intense, appeared dead-center in her stomach. “Profound?”

“Significantly so.” Facing her, Reid gently tipped her chin so that she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “To me, anyway.”

Trouble. “Are we speaking of the coffee?” she asked, going for brevity. “Because while I agree that the first cup in the morning is important, to call it profound is—”

“No, honey. Not the coffee.” While he spoke, he traced her lips with his fingers as if he’d done so every day for years on end, eliciting another series of shivers. From the touch itself, yes, but also from the waves of desire traveling through. “This is about us, Daisy. You and I.”

She tried to think. Lord, did she try. “Our past? We can have that conversation. I mean, now probably isn’t the best time, with the girls and breakfast and—”

“We will. But no, this isn’t the right time.” His voice held assurance. Confidence. “I’m speaking of now, not our past. And, sweetheart, you should know that in my opinion we—meaning you and I—are not done.”

“Is this another game?” Swallowing, hard, she pulled herself free. “If so, I’m not interested in games, Reid. I told you last night that I’m here for Parker and my nieces, not to...not for any other reason.”

“I’m not playing a game.”

“Then what is this about?” Her heart hammered against her breastbone and her mouth went dry. “Because if you’re alluding to—”

“Now see, that is exactly what I’m not doing.” An easy, carefree grin lit his countenance. All innocence and charm. “My goal here is to be very clear about my intentions.”

“And those intentions are...what?”

“The same as they were seven years and nine months ago.” Determination firmed his jaw, straightened the line of his mouth. “If you recall, you mentioned in your goodbye letter—you know the one, from our wedding day?—that you still wanted to marry me, just not on that day.”

Where could he possibly be going with this? “I thought we established that this wasn’t the proper time to have this conversation. But yes, I...wrote something along those lines.”

“Good, glad you remember.” He leaned against the counter in a too-casual-to-be-truly-casual pose. “You also stated that you hoped—if fate was on our side—we might have a second chance at forever,” he said, his tone quiet. Focused. “Do you recall those sentiments, as well?”

“Um...I...yes, but—” Syllable by syllable, his words crashed into her brain with the force of an out-of-control semitruck. “Why are you asking these questions?”

“Because what that letter boils down to is a contract. At the very least, a promise from you to me.” Satisfaction and pleasure whooshed into his expression, his eyes, his very being. “You owe me a wedding, Daisy. And I plan to collect.”

“Wh-what?” Huh-uh. Impossible. She’d heard him wrong. “I owe you what?”

“A wedding, Daisy. Our wedding.”

“Is this a joke?” she asked, finding her voice. “Has to be a joke, right? Because no man anywhere would decide to marry a woman he hasn’t seen for eight years.”

Not to mention, marrying the woman who’d left him standing at the altar.

“Oh, I’m not joking.” Reid pushed himself off the counter and strode to the large calendar hanging on the opposite wall. “How does April sound to you?” he asked, flipping the pages as he spoke. “Though, Cole and Rachel’s wedding is the nineteenth. Is March too soon? Probably. I’d like Parker to be there. I suppose we could shoot for May again, but—”

“Payback? Is this a form of retribution?” When he didn’t respond, when he did nothing but stare at her in a mix of pleasure and confidence, her knees wobbled enough that she had to move to one of the kitchen chairs to sit down. “What’s the punch line, Reid?”

“Love,” he said simply.

“Do you realize how insane you sound?”

“Marriage.”

“Delusional, too. And there isn’t any way I’m buying in to—”

“Maybe even a few children down the road.” He let go of the calendar and took the chair next to Daisy. “I’ve always thought three kids was a nice, round number. What do you think?”

Love. Marriage. Children. Everything she’d once wanted with this man. Everything she’d once ran away from. Everything she’d long since decided wasn’t for her.

“You can’t really expect me to believe that you’re serious. And...and this isn’t funny,” she said, speaking slowly and clearly. In order to get through that megathick skull of his. “You’re joking. Or playing a game. Or you’re out for revenge. Or—”

“None of the above,” Reid said firmly. “I’m not only serious about this, Daisy, I’m committed. Guess I’ll be working on proving that to you.”

She had more to say. Much, much more, but the sounds of two little girls running down the stairs made any further discussion impossible. He was joking. He had to be joking.

But what if...what if he wasn’t?