Reid's Runaway Bride

“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.”