Читать книгу Reid's Runaway Bride - Tracy Madison - Страница 11

Chapter Four

The loss of Reid’s sanity didn’t feel as frightening as he would have expected. Odd, perhaps, but his sudden decision to pursue Daisy seemed almost inescapable. Preordained by fate, even. That was the instinct he’d fought against all night.

Of course, he hadn’t planned on stating his intentions quite so explicitly. Rather, he thought he’d announce his interest and his desire to get to know her again, and then go about the business of courting her. But in the blink of an eye, the details of her letter had appeared in his mind. She had declared it doubtful that her love for him would disappear.

She had written her hope that they’d have another chance. Those were her words, not his.

So, no, the idea of planning a wedding hadn’t occurred to him until that second. But damn, he sort of liked the idea. Insane? Oh, hell yeah. High-risk? Yup, that, too. She could very well shoot him down from now until the actual wedding date and return to her life in California without so much as a glance over her shoulder. Or, he supposed, with or without a letter of goodbye. And hell, that would be rough, going through that mess all over again.

Truth was, though, he’d rather give this crazy idea everything he had and hope for a superior outcome than not try at all. Hope offered possibilities.

He wanted those possibilities. Because, whether he’d realized it until now or not, his gut told him they belonged together. And what better way to proceed than with purpose and intent?

Daisy wouldn’t stick around forever. And, unless this aspect of her personality had changed, she didn’t pay much attention to the subtle. A wedding, though? Nothing subtle about a wedding. That would grab and hold her notice—it already had—and while they were dancing around that topic, he’d begin tackling the obstacles, one by one, they’d need to confront.

And, if he had his say, move beyond.

Swallowing another gulp of coffee, Reid leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table and winked at Daisy, who was in the middle of a conversation with the girls.

She faltered, narrowed her eyes slightly, regained her focus and said, “Since there isn’t any school today, I thought we could play a few games. How does that sound?”

Megan nodded enthusiastically but didn’t try to talk through her chewing. Erin, on the other hand, shook her head and frowned. “I don’t want to play a game.”

“That’s okay,” Daisy said without pause. “We can do something else. Maybe...draw pictures for your dad? Or some get-well cards?”

“He likes our pictures and cards,” Megan said. “He says we’re artists.”

“No. We colored pictures and cards for Daddy yesterday.” Erin stabbed her fork into a bite-size square of her French toast. Glancing at Reid, she said, “Didn’t we?”

“We did, but I’m sure your father would love more,” Reid said, surprised by Erin’s quick opposition to Daisy’s suggestions. “Is there something else you’d like to do today, monkey?”

“Build a snowman,” she said instantly. “With you.”

Meaning, he guessed, not with Daisy. Hmm. “Well,” he said, trying to figure out the reason for the child’s negativity. Erin didn’t easily warm up to new folks, so he’d expected some shyness on her part. But he hadn’t seen this coming. “It’s a little too wild out there for building snowmen right now. Probably best if we focus on indoor ideas.”

“You can read us a book,” Erin said, without looking at Daisy. “Or...or—”

“But I want to play with Aunt Daisy!” Megan said. “And books are for bedtime.”

“Not always,” Daisy said, her voice warm and relaxed. “Books are good for anytime you want to read—or hear—a story. So, Reid can read to Erin, and you and I—” Daisy pointed to Megan “—can do something else. Games or coloring or whatever you want.”

“No!” Erin’s mouth formed into a pout. “We always play together.”

“That isn’t true,” Megan said. “So don’t say it is!”

“Almost always, so it is true!” Erin vaulted from her chair. “I’m older and Daddy isn’t here and I’m in charge. R-Reid is going to tell us a story and she can do something else!”

“Whoa, now,” Reid interjected, taken aback by Erin’s vehemence. Even so, he kept his tone calm, modulated. “First off, kiddo, you don’t get to dictate what Megan does, and I think you know that.” He waited for Erin to nod. When she did, he added, “Okay, good. Also, there isn’t any call to be rude. Please apologize.”

“Sorry, Megan,” Erin said quietly.

“Okay,” Megan said. “Just don’t say stuff that isn’t true.”

“But we almost always—”

“Girls, let’s not start a new argument when we’re in the middle of making up.” Reid paused and looked at Erin. “Is there something you’d like to say to your aunt now?”

“Not really,” Erin said, sounding far more like a teenager than a seven-year-old girl. “I just don’t want to play with her today.”

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” Reid said. “Please apologize to your aunt.”

“Reid,” Daisy said quickly. “She doesn’t have to—”

“Yes, she does. Parker might not be here at the moment, but his rules still hold,” Reid said, attempting to achieve the right balance of maintaining boundaries and showing compassion. “You tell me, Erin. What would your dad say if he was here right now?”

Erin’s chin quivered. “That it is okay to show how we feel but it isn’t okay to be rude or...or hurtful to other people.”

“Yup, that’s right,” Reid said. “And what do you think he would want you to do?”

Blinking rapidly, as if to stop herself from crying, Erin looked from Reid to Daisy and then at the floor. “I’m s-sorry for being rude.”

“It’s really okay, Erin. This is new and sudden,” Daisy said softly, looking as if she might burst into tears herself. “Thank you for the apology. And...I hope we can spend some time together later. If you want to, that is.”

Shrugging, Erin spun on her heel and just about flew from the kitchen. Megan dropped her fork on her plate and started to stand, her intent to follow her sister fairly obvious. She hesitated and glanced at Reid with questions in her eyes.

He nodded and she took off. Sighing, Reid raked his fingers over his short hair. He wanted to sit down with Erin right now and reassure her that everything was going to be fine. But she needed to calm down some before she’d be willing to share whatever was bothering her.

So he’d wait. Not too long, though.

“She isn’t normally like that, Daisy,” he said. “I’ll go talk with her in a few minutes, see if I can work out what the issue is.” Daisy nodded and busied herself with clearing the dishes from the table. “She’ll adjust, I’m sure. Just give her a little time.”

“I hope so, and I will,” Daisy said. “I...I almost see myself when I look at Erin.”

“Not surprised. You resemble one another.”

“The hair, yes. But she has her mother’s eyes, like her sister, and the narrow Lennox nose.” Now at the sink, Daisy began rinsing off the breakfast dishes. “If it wasn’t for our red hair, I’m not sure anyone would see a physical resemblance. There was just something about the way she looked at me that seemed familiar.”

“It’s more than the color of your hair.” Surprised that Daisy hadn’t yet lit into him over his wedding proclamation, Reid gathered the drinking glasses and considered how to proceed. Go full bore or take a slower, gentler approach? “You share similar mannerisms and a propensity toward separating yourself from most other folks.”

Daisy gave him a sidelong glance that suggested she was rearing up to clock him on the jaw. “Are you insinuating that my niece and I are self-absorbed?”

“Maybe. But only in the best possible light.”

“Not quite sure how you can get ‘best possible light’ out of self-absorbed.”

“Perhaps ‘choosy’ is a better description,” he said, joining her at the sink. She continued to rinse and, as she did, he loaded the dishwasher. “Nothing wrong with that.”

And there wasn’t. Daisy tended to keep others at a distance until she determined if they could be trusted with her thoughts, dreams...that inner world of hers. Erin was the same. Most folks were to a certain extent, but some were more cautious, more particular, in who they let in.

“Honestly, I think she took one look at me and decided she doesn’t like me.” Pain and sorrow deepened the blue in Daisy’s eyes. “I should’ve tried harder before.”

“She hasn’t decided anything as of yet.” Reid didn’t comment on the rest. There wasn’t any reason to rub additional salt into the wound. He’d done a good enough job of that last night. “And you’re here now. It isn’t too late to build a connection.”

“Maybe, but it seems I have my work cut out for me.” Sidestepping him, she wiped off the table and resituated the chairs. When she finished, she faced him and arched an eyebrow. “And just to avoid any confusion, I want to be absolutely clear that I’m not going to allow you to indulge in some stupid game. I do not owe you a wedding. End of discussion.”

Well, then. Full bore it was. “I believe I was already clear when I said that you did. And this discussion is far from over.”

“Stop.” Narrowed eyes met his. With a stubborn lift of her chin, she took one long step toward him. “This wedding talk of yours is nonsense. As I just said, I have my work cut out for me. I do not have time to deal with...with whatever you’re trying to prove.”

“We both have a lot of work in front of us,” he said. “Planning our last wedding took close to a year, so supposing we settle on May, we still only have a couple of months.” Unable to stop himself, he grinned. “March or April will leave us with even less time.”

“There is nothing to plan!” Now the green in her eyes took precedence over the blue. From anger, no doubt, but desire had always had the same effect. “You are not due a wedding.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree. A contract was made, a promise was implied.” Shrugging, he said, “And, Daisy, you reneged on both.”

“Is this because you want to talk about what I did? If so, just say that! We can talk. Right now, for however long you’d like. Otherwise, you need to...cease and desist.”

“Sorry.” He whisked his thumb along the soft curve of her cheek, her skin warming beneath his touch. “That’s the one thing I cannot do.”

“Assuming we went by your incredibly flawed logic,” she said, flicking his hand off her face, “I still wouldn’t owe you a damn thing. I returned the ring, which then signified the end of the so-called contract and my implied promise. Even if I hadn’t, even if your argument held any weight whatsoever, the statute of limitations would have long since expired.”