Reid's Runaway Bride

“Simple. I’m here now.”

He looked at her with incredulity. Maybe with the slightest touch of annoyance, as well. “This isn’t that simple, Daisy. Not by any stretch of the imagination.”

“I disagree.” On the basics, anyway, if not the complete picture. “The girls don’t need two caregivers, and since I’m here, there isn’t any reason for you to stay.”

“There are plenty of reasons,” he countered, his voice growing cooler with each syllable. “I’ve been here the entire time. You have not. The girls know me. They do not know you. Add in the difficulty of what they’re going through, how scared they are about their father, and the last thing they need is for anything else to change in their worlds.”

Valid points, all of them. And damn it, she even agreed with his take. Because no, she didn’t want to upset her nieces or add yet another degree of turmoil into their lives. But she absolutely didn’t want Reid here mucking with her emotions.

“I admit I haven’t spent much time with Erin and Megan, but we talk on the phone every now and again, and I send them gifts throughout the year,” Daisy said, forcing authority into her voice, her demeanor. “I am not a stranger to them.”

“Not being a stranger is a hell of a lot different than knowing someone enough to feel comfortable or safe.” Reid swore again, this time under his breath. Whether at the still frantic Jinx or at Daisy’s statement, she couldn’t speculate. Probably both. “And let’s face the facts here. You don’t know them any better than they know you.”

Hurt by his words, by the truth of them, Daisy removed her wet coat and kicked off her shoes. No, she didn’t know her nieces, and she hated that it had taken something as horrible as her brother’s accident to propel her to change the status quo. But she was here now.

“That doesn’t mean we won’t get to know each other, or that they won’t eventually become comfortable. I’m their family, Reid.”

“Family? Depends on your definition. Mine has to do with being present, available, for the people you love.” Reid gave his leg another jerk, this one somewhat stronger than the last. Jinx, bless her heart, held on tight. “I’m not entirely sure my definition applies here.”

Wow. Just...wow. The need to offer a defense came on strong, but why bother? Yes, she’d kept her distance from her family, but Parker and her parents had done the same with her. The culpability—in this regard, anyway—did not wholly rest on her shoulders. More to the point, she didn’t owe Reid any explanations on this aspect of her life. Not a one.

“Seeing how I’m standing in my brother’s home right this very instant, I’m fairly sure your definition does apply,” she said, managing to hold her temper in check. “I don’t know what your expectations are, but—”

“My expectations,” Reid said, slowing his words to a crawl, “are that you’ll visit with your brother, assure yourself of his health and future prognosis, spend a little time with your nieces and go back home. That will take two, maybe three days. Four on the outside.”

“Hold on here. Are you asking me to leave?” Daisy took one step forward, stopped and planted her hands on her hips. “Or are you ordering me to leave?”

“Neither.” His shoulders tensed in frustration. “And my goal isn’t to sound rude, but no one here is counting on you, Daisy. There isn’t any need for you to hang around.”

Ouch. “Guess what, Reid? You don’t get to shoo me off as if I’m some pesky bug.” Sudden moisture dotted her eyes, threatening tears. “And in case you’re wondering, Parker asked me to come, so I’d say he is counting on me.”

“Parker—” Shaking his head in disbelief, Reid said, “I can’t fathom a reasonable scenario where your brother would ask for your help. He knows I have everything under control.”

“Of course you have everything under control, that’s your mantra, isn’t it?” Whoa. Unfair in this circumstance. Unfair, Daisy admitted, in any circumstance. Reid—his current level of rudeness notwithstanding—had never pushed for control, he’d just...stepped into the role with ease. “That was uncalled for and I apologize. But this is not about us.”

“Nope, this isn’t about us.” Reid gave Jinx—who hadn’t yet relented in her growl-and-tug approach—an exasperated, are-you-kidding-me-just-stop-already sort of scowl. “This is about Erin and Megan and what is best for them.”

“Which is what I just said!”

“Not really, no.” Now his eyes were flat, almost...cold. “You state that I should leave, without asking one question about the well-being of your nieces. What’s going on with them, how they’re doing, if there is anything you should know before you give their primary caregiver a boot out the door. Tell me, how is any of that what’s best for Erin and Megan?”

“I’m their aunt, whether you like that fact or not.” She counted to three, then to five. Unfortunately, her frustration didn’t subside. It grew larger. “Parker asked for my help,” she repeated. “I’m here for my brother and my nieces, and I don’t want—”

“Put yourself in their place, if you can,” he said, interrupting Daisy. “Try to imagine how they would feel to wake up in the morning and find you here and me gone. Without any warning or explanation.” Reid snapped his fingers. “Just gone.”

She stifled a gasp as Reid’s full inference hit home. He wasn’t only speaking of Erin and Megan’s feelings, but a reflection of his own from when he read her goodbye letter. Traversing that pothole-ridden road now wouldn’t solve anything, though. Not when their emotions, their shock at seeing one another again, remained so high.

Better, easier, to focus on the issue of who would stay to watch the girls and who would leave. And, at the end of the day, only one person had the authority to send Daisy packing. That person, no matter how much he might wish it to be so, was not Reid.

Lifting her chin, she said, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying for the duration, however long that might last. Unless Parker says different.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s so.” She raised her chin another notch. “You’ll have to find a way to deal with my being here, because that is not changing. I’m taking over the girls’ care from here on out.”

“Oh, I can deal. But, sweetheart—” Jinx’s antics finally proved too much. Bending at the waist, Reid disengaged the dog from his jeans, swept her into his arms and muttered, “Behave.” To Daisy, he said, “You are not taking over and I am most certainly not leaving.”

“We both can’t stay. That would mean...”

“That’s right. As of now, we’re living together.” Reid’s long legs ate up the space between them in mere seconds. Passing Jinx from his arms into hers, he said, “This will be cozy, don’t you think? Why, we’ll almost be like one big, happy family.”

Oh, hell, no. “You’re crazy. That won’t work.”

“Trust me, I’m not overly fond of the idea, but there isn’t another viable option.”

“You leave. I stay. There, problem solved.”

“Sure. If you can answer three questions about Erin and Megan, I’ll pack up and leave tonight. We’ll even start with a simple one,” he said. “What are their favorite colors?”

Ten...twenty...thirty seconds ticked by. Pink? Probably for one of them, if not both. Purple, maybe. But she didn’t want to guess. She wanted to know.

Swallowing, she gave a short nod of concession. “Point made. But I don’t see how this... We can’t just...” Daisy searched for another solution. Just one. And came up lacking. “Supposing I agree, how long will this living-together thing last?”

“No clue. Later, once the three of you are better acquainted, we can reassess. For now, as much as I hate to admit it—” he looked upward, as if praying for divine intervention “—we’re in this together. Lock, stock and barrel.”

Damn it. Damn him. He was right.

Here she was, almost eight years later, being pulled along by the force of Reid Foster. She had no defense against his bulletproof logic. Nothing she could do or say to get out of this ridiculous situation. Other than turn around and get back in her car and return home.

And she couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that. “Fine,” she said stiffly. “We can discuss the details tomorrow. I’m exhausted. Is there a guest room I can use?”

Her agreement eased the lines of tension creasing Reid’s forehead. Stroking his jaw as if in thought, he said, “Good question. There are only two bedrooms. The girls share one, and the other is Parker’s. I’ve been bunking there. And I’d be happy to sleep on the sofa, but...”

“But...?”

“The girls sometimes drift in at night if they’ve had a bad dream, or if they wake in the morning before I do. If you’re there instead of me, they won’t know what to think.”

His words were reasonable, as was typical. But something about the way he spoke sent a trickle of awareness down the nape of Daisy’s neck. It might have been the deepening of his tone or the slowing of his cadence or even the close proximity of his body to hers, but all at once, the air around them became charged. Not with shock or anger or unsaid questions. With...heat.

“I’m happy to take the sofa,” she said quickly, before he could start the game she was sure he was set on embarking. “That isn’t a problem.”

“Yup, that’s a possibility.” With another wink, this one far more devilish than sardonic, he stepped closer. “Or...we could bunk together. Just to sleep, you understand.”

Oh, she understood. She wondered, briefly, what his reaction would be if she called him on his...offer. Hmm. Maybe she should. If he wanted to play with fire, why not hand him the match? “You know, that’s a great option. As long as you’re certain it won’t be too awkward.”

“What’s awkward about sleeping?” he asked in apparent innocence. “That is, if we’re still talking about only sleeping?”

“We are.” Narrowing the space between them by another inch, so they were only separated by the dog she held, and were close enough to—potentially, of course—kiss, she said, “The thing is, I’ve recently developed this small...idiosyncrasy, I’d guess you’d call it, and I’d hate for you to get the wrong impression.”

Interest, amusement and, unless she missed her guess, desire flickered over him in varying degrees of intensity. “Keep talking,” he said. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

“It’s just that I find clothing so...restrictive.” Fluttering her lashes, Daisy dropped her voice to a near whisper and looked him straight in those sexy-as-hell eyes of his. “I can’t seem to sleep if I have anything at all covering me. So as long as you’re okay with—”

Reid blinked once. Twice. “You sleep in the...?”

“Every single night.” He seemed unable to talk, so being the kind and sensitive soul she was, she helped him out. “I think the sofa will be perfect. Don’t you?”

“Right. The sofa.”

“Though I could use a pillow and a few blankets.”

“Right,” Reid repeated. “I...ah...can get those for you.”

“Thank you,” she said in her best sweet-as-pie voice. “I would appreciate that.”

He stayed put and continued to appraise her, his eyes slowly narrowing in contemplation. “Nice one, Daisy,” he said after an abbreviated pause. “You almost had me.”

Without uttering another syllable, Reid strode from the room. Daisy waited a full minute before collapsing on the sofa, before allowing the trembles to ripple along her skin and overtake her body. Her throat tightened and her stomach swam. How would she survive this?

She’d won this round due purely to surprise. That wouldn’t happen again. If there were a next time, Reid would be fully prepared to call her on her bluff.

“I’m in trouble, Jinx,” she whispered. Her dog’s ears perked at the sound of her name and she butted her nose against Daisy’s hand, begging for attention. Complying, Daisy stroked Jinx’s head. “And not just your average type of trouble, either.”

Nope. What she had was the cataclysmic, in-over-her-head, lucky-to-walk-away-in-one-piece type of trouble. And every speck of that trouble began and ended with Reid Foster.

The man she’d spent years trying to forget. The man who, despite her belief to the contrary, still claimed some part of her heart, her soul. She couldn’t let him in again. Couldn’t yield so much as an ounce of what she’d worked so hard to achieve, to become.

So, yeah. Trouble. In every which way that Daisy could see.

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.