Reid's Runaway Bride

He could keep the peace for three days, couldn’t he? Yup, that he could. Decision made, Reid relaxed his features into an emotionless mask and forced his leaden legs to carry him forward. As he walked, he focused on three words: calm, polite and detached.

Of course, those three words evaporated the second he rounded the corner into the archway that separated the house’s entrance from the living room, the second his eyes settled on the woman he’d never been able to forget. She was still beautiful. Still...Daisy.

Seeing him, she gasped, but didn’t speak. Neither did he.

At some juncture, she’d cut her long, coppery red hair into a short, wispy style that pulled attention to her arresting green-blue eyes and the delicate angles of her face. She was dressed inappropriately for February in Colorado, wearing a lightweight jacket over what appeared to be a summery dress and a pair of...clogs? Yeah, clogs. The woman was insane.

But achingly familiar. The Daisy he’d fallen for had lived in her own head, her own secret world, and had rarely taken notice of anything as practical as the weather. It seemed that some things, regardless of time, hadn’t changed.

Reid’s breath locked in his lungs as the past crept up and swarmed him with memories. In a split second, he was reliving the worst moment of his life, the moment he’d read that damn letter of hers and the sickening, unbelievable realization that she’d left. The anger, the sadness, the self-recriminations and wondering if he had behaved differently, if she would have, as well.

All of it was there, fresh and alive and...potent. The years spanning those many yesterdays with today vanished, and Reid forgot about remaining polite, calm and detached.

“Hello, darlin’,” he drawled, ignoring the crazy rat-a-tat beat of his heart. “By my calculations, you’re...oh, about seven years and nine months late for our wedding.”

Chapter Two

“I can do better.” Daisy kept her voice smooth and without inflection. Fate, it seemed, had decided not to waste a second in putting Reid Foster in her line of vision. “Seven years, nine months and four days. I can probably figure out the hours and minutes, if you’d like.”

“Nah.” Leveraging his right shoulder against the inner-archway wall, Reid angled his arms across his chest in a laid-back, nonchalant manner. Irritating that he seemed so at ease when Daisy had yet to catch her breath. “The broad strokes are more than sufficient.”

Her brain tried to process a reply, but failed. How in heaven’s name was she supposed to have a conversation with this man at this moment? Impossible. She couldn’t think.

Somewhat regrettably, she also couldn’t stop staring.

Naturally, he looked good. She wouldn’t have expected anything less. He wore dark denim and a thick flannel shirt in shades of soft greens and dark blues. He had the same coal-black hair cropped close to his head, the same strong, lithely muscular form and the same ingrained power that all but sprang from every pore of his body.

The same Reid. Yet...not exactly. There was an aura of toughness—a hardness, she supposed—that hadn’t existed in her Reid. Had she done that to him? Maybe. Probably.

Guilt layered in, joining the already complex synthesis of her emotions, tying her tongue into knots and making her wish—desperately—that she’d stayed overnight in Grand Junction.

“I...um...didn’t expect to find anyone here.” One memory after another clicked into being. Breathe. All I have to do is breathe. “I expected the girls to be at a neighbor’s house.”

“They’re at the neighbor’s when I’m working,” Reid said, maintaining his casual persona, as if seeing her again held zero effect. Lucky him. “Otherwise, they’re with me.”

Of course. Why hadn’t she considered that Reid would be helping with Erin and Megan? She should have. He remained close friends with Daisy’s brother, and the Reid she remembered had always been there for the people he cared about.

“That’s...nice of you,” she said, infusing brightness into her tone. “I’m here now to take up the slack. Exhausted after the long drive, but here.”

An indefinable emotion darkened Reid’s gaze. He appraised her quietly, his body tense, his jaw hard. “So...you’re here to take up the slack, are you?”

“That’s right.” Reid continued to stare at her in that silent, steady way of his. To combat the silence and the stare, she pushed out the first words that entered her head. “How’s life been treating you? I mean...um...are you doing well?”

“Oh, I’m friggin’ fantastic,” Reid muttered. “Life’s a dream.”

“That’s really great to hear, and—”

“What about you, Daisy? How have you been since I saw you last...when was that, exactly?” Pausing, as if in deep reflection, Reid suddenly smiled and winked. “I got it. The last time I saw you was at our rehearsal dinner, correct? The night before you took off.”

There it was, out in the open. “Yes, that would be correct,” she said, matching his sarcasm, note for note. “I’ve been wonderful! Thanks so much for asking.”

Heavy silence hung between them, layering the air with unsaid words and questions. All of which had to do with their past, with the decision Daisy had made on that long-ago day. And okay, she owed Reid what she hadn’t been able to give him then, but having that particular discussion now seemed inappropriate and rushed and...far too painful.

Right or wrong, fair or unfair, she just wasn’t ready.

Thankfully, Jinx decided the quiet was her opportunity to make herself known. She whined and tugged at the leash. While she only stood about twenty inches tall and weighed twenty-four pounds, she could be quite determined when she set her mind to it.

Relieved to have a millisecond to reel in her shock, Daisy unhooked the leash from the dog’s collar. “There you go, sweets,” she said to Jinx. “Explore to your heart’s content.”

Without delay, Jinx began to sniff the hardwood floor and whatever objects she came across. Daisy watched for a few minutes, using the break to gather her strength, her balance. And while she watched, she took in her surroundings.

Awash in vivid colors, the living room held a bright red sofa that stretched in front of a bay window, on which were a plethora of handicrafts likely created by her nieces. Next to the couch sat a sunny yellow chair that was large enough to hold two adults—or, Daisy imagined, a father and his young daughters—and had more in common with a puffy cloud than an actual piece of furniture. She could live in a chair like that.

Rounding out the room was a television, a pair of squat bookshelves filled with an array of children’s books and a square, low-to-the-ground coffee table that was perfect for game nights, crafts or eating a meal while watching a favorite TV show or movie.

A comfortable place, filled with energy and life. Daisy could easily envision two little girls playing and laughing and growing up here. Somehow, that thought boosted her resolve.

She was here for a reason. A reason that had zip to do with Reid Foster.

And right now, even standing in the same room with him had annihilated her equilibrium. Therefore, her first order of business was claiming her brother’s home as her territory.

Before she could proceed, Jinx’s low, rumbling growl met Daisy’s ears. A quick bolt of untimely humor cut into her anxiety. Biting the inside of her lip to stop the grin from emerging, she stood and pivoted so that she faced Reid. Yep, just as she’d thought.

Jinx’s teeth were embedded in the cuff of Reid’s jeans and, with her body buckled in concentration, her dog was valiantly attempting to tug him to the door and out of the house. While whippets were highly energetic dogs, most tended to be quiet with sweet and loving temperaments. When it came to men, however, Jinx defied the typical.

She flat-out disliked men. All men.

The rescue service through which Daisy had adopted Jinx hadn’t been able to provide a specific reason as to why, though they had warned Daisy of the oddity early on in the process. Even after months of becoming acquainted with her few male friends, Jinx hadn’t warmed up in the slightest. So, no, Daisy wasn’t surprised by Jinx’s behavior.

She was, however, highly amused by the dog’s timing.

“Jinx!” Daisy said, hiding her laughter. “Stop beating up on the poor man.”

The dog didn’t hesitate. If anything, her tugging grew more exuberant, more purposeful. Enough so, that Reid had to give up his kicked-back pose in order to sustain his balance.

Standing straight, he glanced from Jinx to Daisy. “Dare I ask?”

“Don’t take it personally,” Daisy said, biting her lip harder. “She isn’t a fan of men. And while she’s very well-behaved in other areas, she...tends to ignore me when a man is around.”

“You have a man-hating dog?” Reid gently jiggled his leg in a failed attempt to unhinge Jinx’s teeth. “Did she come that way or did you train her?”

“Trained her, of course,” Daisy said with a straight face. “After all, a single woman living in L.A. has to have some type of defense in today’s world.”

Reid’s lips quirked in the beginnings of a smile, causing the rigid line of his jaw to relax a miniscule amount. Maybe Jinx had broken the ice. It was a nice, if overly hopeful, thought.

“I don’t know,” he said. “If protection was your goal, you might have considered choosing a larger, more menacing breed of dog.”

“Oh, she does the job well enough. She has you good and cornered, doesn’t she?”