Reid′s Runaway Bride
Reid's Runaway Bride
Tracy Madison
The runaway bride returns!Daisy Lennox comes home eight years after bolting on her wedding day…but for Reid Foster nothing has changed. Seeing her walk into Steamboat Springs to care for her two little nieces, Reid is hit by an undeniable realisation: they belong together…still.Love. Marriage. Children. Daisy wanted them…a long time ago. However, loving Reid comes with too high a price – facing the family secrets she ran from. But then Reid makes his move and he’s not letting her go without a fight.She owes him a wedding…and this time he intends to collect.
She saw it on the dog’s collar.
A tiny envelope. She touched it, feeling a small circular object. Oh, no. He couldn’t have … Her engagement ring.
Daisy opened it and a riptide of emotion engulfed her. Damn Reid for this visceral reminder of how much she’d loved him.
“Daisy.” Reid’s voice came from behind, evocative and sensual. “Once upon a time, a boy loved a girl and promised her the world. The girl accepted, returned the promise, and they were to live happily ever after.”
Before she could inhale another breath, Reid’s hands were on her shoulders. “Nothing has changed, Daisy. I still love you and I still want to give you the world.” His arms came around her. “All you have to do is say yes …”
* * *
The Colorado Fosters: They’d do anything for each other … and for love!
Reid’s
Runaway Bride
Tracy Madison
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
TRACY MADISON lives in northwestern Ohio with her husband, four children, one bear-size dog, one loving-but-paranoid pooch and a couple of snobby cats. Her house is often hectic, noisy and filled to the brim with laugh-out-loud moments. Many of these incidents fire up her imagination to create the interesting, realistic and intrinsically funny characters that live in her stories. Tracy loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at tracy@tracymadison.com.
This story is dedicated to a person who has become very important in my life. Thank you for your kindness, compassion, and seemingly endless support. I am eternally grateful.
Contents
Prologue (#udcbb2228-b37f-56dd-ad96-e0d0cc34c75e)
Chapter One (#uf01424f2-d2da-5d64-a2a8-78be28b312ed)
Chapter Two (#u38976386-9361-5e7c-94cd-c89177120c14)
Chapter Three (#u9453536b-237d-560b-beeb-0c8b3fe5f5d5)
Chapter Four (#u76c4aca7-0f5c-5b53-bf41-d857fc399426)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
Less than two hours ago, Daisy Lennox had stood in front of her bedroom windows and breathed in the fragrant scents emanating from her mother’s flower garden. The softest of breezes whispered against her cheek with the promise that Steamboat Springs, Colorado, would be blessed with a beautiful spring day. A perfect day, in fact, for a wedding.
For her wedding.
She’d closed her eyes and savored the anticipation, as the excitement strummed through her body. By nightfall, she would be Mrs. Reid Foster. It seemed...incredible that this day had finally arrived, that her dreams were so close to becoming reality.
Falling in love with Reid had happened naturally. Effortlessly. He’d been a part of her existence for almost as far back as she could remember, even if it had taken an absurd amount of time for him to view her as anything other than his best friend’s little sister.
Once he had, though, neither of them questioned their connection. And when he’d proposed last year, on the evening of her graduation from the University of Colorado, she’d accepted without hesitation. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.
With Reid, she felt whole. Reid’s love chased off the persistent sensation of not belonging, of not fitting in, of being the odd person out, that she’d battled since childhood.
So, yes. When Daisy had awakened to sunny skies and a warm, fragrant breeze, with hope and delight bubbling in her veins, she had zero reason to believe that anything would—or could—interfere with her pure, soul-deep certainty of the future.
Unfortunately, fate had other ideas.
A broken, emotional confession from Daisy’s mother had shifted everything she’d ever known to be true into a new reality. This—the story her mother told—was the fodder for bad television, and not the life of a woman who was about to be married.
None of this could be real. Yet...somehow, it was.
Emptiness, engulfing and complete, overtook her prior joy. Her breaths came in jagged gasps and her body shook as she attempted to process the unimaginable.
“I know this is a shock,” her mother, Clara Lennox, said. She wrapped her arm over Daisy’s shoulder and drew her close. “Are you okay?”
Okay? No, she was most definitely not okay. She pulled free from her mother’s grasp, and as if on their own accord, her fingers reached for the wedding gown she’d laid out on her bed that morning. She crumpled the silky fabric in her fist and tried to bring Reid’s face, his voice, his very presence, to mind. Tried to sink herself in his love for her, in hers for him.
“That was a silly thing to ask. Of course you’re not okay,” Clara said. “How could you be? But...do you think, once this settles some, you’ll—”
“Settles? I can’t imagine any of this settling in the near future.” Or ever.
“I understand. I’m sorry for this, sorry for...all of it.”
Lifting her chin, Daisy looked at her mother. Her pale blue eyes were puffy from crying. Her fiery red hair—so like Daisy’s own—had been nervously tucked behind her ears while she’d slowly, word by word, shredded the strands of Daisy’s identity.
On the morning of her wedding.
“Why today? Why not yesterday or six months ago or when I was ten?” Daisy pushed out the questions, still unable to fully comprehend the magnitude of her mother’s confession. “Why would you wait until what is supposed to be the happiest day of my life to tell me that...that—” she swallowed the sobs choking her throat “—I’m not the person I thought I was?”
“You are exactly the same person you have always been.” Sighing, Clara ran her hands over her face. “But I shouldn’t have waited for so long. I should have—”
“No, Mother. You shouldn’t have waited until my wedding day to tell me that I’m the product of an affair!” Selfish. Wrong to feel this way, perhaps, but this confession and the timing of it came off as selfish to Daisy. What did this do for her now, other than cause inexplicable amounts of pain and confusion? Not one damn thing. “How could you do this to me?”
“I waited too long,” her mother repeated. “I didn’t mean to, darling. I just couldn’t ever seem to find the right words or the right time or...I kept hoping your father would—”
“Which father?” Daisy’s anger rolled in, coating the rest of her spinning emotions. “The man who raised me or the man I didn’t even know existed until now?”
Clara reeled back, as if Daisy’s words held the physical force of a slap. “Charles Lennox. The man who raised you. The man who accepted you when I admitted my...mistake to him.”
“He has never accepted me,” Daisy whispered. “And now, I know why.”
“You’re wrong. He loves you.”
“Then why isn’t he sitting here with us?”
“Because your father...that is, we decided this should come from me.”
Not a surprise. If there was one aspect of her father’s personality that Daisy understood, it was his reluctance to become embroiled in emotional scenes. Even so, she wished her father had chosen to be here, to offer his support, to give his assurances that he loved her, that he considered her his daughter through and through, and that he always had.
More than a want. She needed to hear this.
In that moment, though, with the glorious May sun dappling across her bedroom floor, Daisy didn’t fool herself into believing she’d ever hear those assurances from Charles Lennox. If he hadn’t been able to do so before, he certainly wouldn’t today.
She’d always ached to have the close relationship with her father that her older brother, Parker, did. Over the years, she’d convinced herself that her father simply had more in common with his son than he did with his daughter, and that their relationship, while often distant and cool, had absolutely nothing to do with her. Some men, as her mother consistently said, related better with their male offspring. Some men just weren’t able to develop a close connection with their daughters. And this belief, as much as it hurt, had also offered relief.
But this new information, the obvious absence of her father, along with the history of their relationship, painted an altered picture. One that stung in deep and intrinsic ways. She was not Charles Lennox’s daughter; she was the product of an affair. What could she possibly mean to him, other than providing the visible proof that his wife had cheated?
In heartbreaking clarity, this understanding answered every question she’d ever had. It explained the distance, the awkward hugs and the lack of pride or enthusiasm whenever Daisy accomplished something. More than anything else, though, this knowledge brought an undeniable logic to her father’s unwillingness to...love her the way he loved Parker.
Hell, she wasn’t sure she could blame him.
“He isn’t even in the house right now, is he?” she asked.
“He...thought we should be alone for this conversation.” Clara let out a short breath. “But he said he’ll return in time for the wedding.”
There was more her mother wasn’t saying. The truth of that was written all over her expression, in the tight way she held her body, in the subdued manner in which she spoke. And with sudden, sickening insight, Daisy thought she understood what that something was.
“Oh, my God.” Nausea lurched in Daisy’s stomach. “After twenty-three years of being my father, he doesn’t want to walk me down the aisle, does he? That’s why he isn’t here. That’s why you had to tell me today. He insisted, didn’t he?”
“He’ll change his mind,” Clara said quickly, still not looking at Daisy. “I...hope he’ll change his mind once he sees that you won’t view him differently now that you know.”
“He won’t change his mind.” This knowledge sat inside Daisy with total certainty, and somehow, the realization was more defeating than the rest. “You know it as well as I do.”
Clara faced Daisy. “I know he loves you.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever believed that.” Squeezing her eyes shut, Daisy attempted to slow her breathing, to quiet the stirred-up emotions. “Who is my father?”
“Charles Lennox,” her mother said stubbornly.
“I wish that were the case.” Daisy crumpled the silky fabric of her wedding gown tighter and asked again, “Who is my father?”
Releasing a sigh, Clara said, “What do you want to know?”
“Does he know about me?”
“No. It... We didn’t have an actual relationship. Like I said, he was someone I dated in college. I...I knew him before I met Charles, and he was just passing through. Your fath—Charles was out of town so often, and your brother was so little. I was lonely, Daisy. And—” a small sob broke through “—I made a mistake.”
That last statement carved into Daisy’s heart with the force, the sharpness, of a samurai sword. All she heard was that she was the mistake. Not the poor choice her mother made in the heat of the moment, not the one-night stand itself, but that Daisy’s very existence was some horrible blunder that could never be corrected.
Unaware of her distress—or, perhaps, just too lost in the past—her mother kept talking, repeating much of what she’d already said. This time, though, Daisy listened to every word, every nuance, every hesitation, and as she did, her sense of self—the person she believed herself to be—slowly and painfully disintegrated. None of what her mother shared eased the agony or the chaos or filled the gaps within. She didn’t know who she was. Not really.
“Thank you,” she said, interrupting her mother in midsentence, having heard enough. “I need to be alone. I need to think. I need to... Just leave for now. Please.”
The second that Clara exited the room, Daisy curled up into a ball and allowed her tears free rein. They exploded from deep inside, ravaging through her body with a ferocious intensity. When they stopped, she lay motionless, trying to find meaning in that which held none. Despite how hard she searched, there was nothing to grasp on to for strength, for stability.
Desperate and alone, she thought of Reid and how his love had always given her that strength and stability, a sense of wholeness and security. How just being near him brought all the shady, uneven areas of her life into focus. He made her...real.
And God, she loved him. She did. But the rest of her world had ceased to exist—at least, the world she’d always known, had always believed in—and what remained seemed cloudy and off-balance and without oxygen. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see the rest of today, let alone tomorrow or the next day or the one after that.
The sudden, frantic need to get away, to find a place she could breathe, hit her hard. No, no, no. She couldn’t do that...couldn’t leave Reid and the future she’d craved for so long. How could she do that? He made her real. Who would she be without him?
From the moment they became a couple, she had done everything in her power to show him that she could be exactly the woman he thought she was...the woman he wanted her to be. And unlike with her father, she’d succeeded with Reid. She didn’t have to fight so hard to gain his acceptance, his affection or his approval.
Really, all she had done was follow the path he’d created, whatever that path was, whether that meant her—their—choice of colleges, the timing of their engagement, their wedding date, even the details of their wedding. Reid made everything, from the smallest hurdle to the largest, easy. He knew what he wanted, and Daisy loved him, so she wanted what he did.
Didn’t she? Of course she did. Of course.
Another series of breathless sobs broke free. She wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them closer to her chest. With Reid, she would always know who she was, where she belonged. She would never have to guess or struggle...or...
Oh, Lord. No. Just...no.
One by one, memories jabbed into her consciousness, forcing her to confront the impossible. Throughout her life, she had attempted to become the daughter she believed Charles Lennox wanted. She’d formed her decisions, her interests, around him. And she had done so for the specific purpose of creating a loving relationship with her father.
Now she understood why she had continually failed. But with Reid, she hadn’t failed. They were to be married that very afternoon. In front of family and friends, but without her father by her side. In a wedding ceremony that Reid had planned from beginning to end, without Daisy uttering one word of complaint or offering her opinion.
She would simply sit back, nod and smile. Happy to do whatever he wanted, however he wanted. Not his fault, she knew, but hers. He was, for all intents and purposes, a force of nature. She had grabbed on to his energy, his strength of will, and let the tide carry her.
By doing so, she had become the woman Reid Foster professed to love, and with that love came definition. An identity. She was his girlfriend, his fiancée, now...soon, his wife. Maybe in a year or two or three, the mother of his children.
Who would she be if she hadn’t muted herself for her father, for Reid? Would Reid even love her if she hadn’t morphed into the woman she believed he wanted?
An unrelenting pressure stole the air from Daisy’s lungs, shuddered through her and stifled her sobs. She didn’t know the answer to either of those questions. Didn’t know if Reid would still want her, love her, and she couldn’t see a version of herself that didn’t include Reid.
He makes me real.
But...shouldn’t she be real on her own? Shouldn’t she know who she was, regardless if Charles Lennox were her father or not? Regardless if she were Reid’s wife or not? Shouldn’t she be able to find some type of strength and security and confidence within herself?
The answer was swift and tragic and...honest. Yes.
Sitting up, Daisy stared at her wedding gown, unable to believe that she was on the cusp of making such an unbearable, heart-wrenching decision. But she was. She had.
Fresh tears filled her eyes. Oh, God...she had.
She wiped her cheeks, took in a fortifying breath, and the soothing stillness of calm certainty took control. Yes. She had made her decision. There would not be a wedding today.
Daisy reached for the phone, her intent to call Reid and have him come over. So she could explain the horrifying details of what she’d learned, of her decision and the reasons for it, the best she could, face-to-face. He deserved nothing less. She knew this.
In the end, she just couldn’t do it. Seeing him now, when her emotions were so raw, when she felt lonelier than she ever had in her life, would do her in. She wouldn’t cancel the wedding or leave Steamboat Springs. She wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.
Reid’s commanding presence, his love for her, his absolute surety that they belonged together, would convince her to ignore what her instincts were all but shouting. Far easier and less painful to follow in his wake and become his wife, than to trust her newfound convictions and...leave. Start over. Become real on her own, without her family. Without...Reid.
Even as she wrote the letter, even as she carefully folded the tearstained pages and removed her engagement ring, even as she packed her suitcase, and even as she quietly slipped out of the house she’d grown up in, she kept waiting for something—an inner voice, a sign, anything—to change her mind. To stop her from leaving the man she loved.
Nothing did.
Dear Reid,
This morning, my life shattered into a million unrecognizable pieces. As it turns out, my father is not my father, and therefore, he is unwilling to walk me down the aisle. And I don’t know if you can understand this, but this information has made me feel lost, without balance, and I need to figure out how to fix this.
I can’t believe, even now, that I have made this decision or that it feels so right. But I have, and it does. I’m sorry I don’t have the strength or the courage to tell you this in person, but I have to leave. This is about me, not you. I know that sounds clichéd and awful. In this case, though, it’s the complete truth.
My love for you hasn’t disappeared. I doubt my love for you will ever disappear, and even as I write this, I still want to marry you.... Just not today. Maybe, if fate is on our side and you can find it within yourself to forgive me, we’ll have another chance in the future. A second chance at forever.
Someday.
Please, please forgive me.
All my love,
Daisy
Chapter One
Snowflakes, plump as a cherub’s cheeks, spewed and spat in the wind-soaked air, where they whirled in a mad, frenetic dance before they dropped to the ground and coated the world—this part of the world, anyway—in a thick, icy canopy of pure white.
Why wouldn’t Steamboat Springs, Colorado, be in the middle of a roaring winter storm on the night of the runaway bride’s return? Nothing else would’ve made any sense.
Gritting her teeth in concentration, Daisy attempted to see through the blinding snow as she navigated the last several miles to her brother’s house. Truth be told, she should’ve stayed overnight in Grand Junction when she heard the weather report. She hadn’t for the simple reason that she’d wanted to complete the last leg of her journey without delay.
She’d left her home in Los Angeles at the crack of dawn, and barring the intermittent stops to walk her dog, had made excellent time. Another four hours of driving—even with a winter storm warning in place—had seemed preferable to putting off the inevitable for another day. So, with the hope that she’d beat the worst of the storm, she’d pushed onward.
Well, four hours had turned into six-plus hours, and if what brewed outside her car wasn’t the worst of the storm, then Daisy figured it was soon to come. Her only goal at this point was to be safely ensconced inside Parker’s home when that moment arrived.
Sighing, she slid to a halt at a stop sign and tried to set aside the ridiculous notion that this storm was Mother Nature’s way of warning her off, of reminding Daisy that she wouldn’t be welcomed in her hometown after close to an eight-year absence.
And really, the thought was absurd.
It was the end of February, for crying out loud, so snowstorms in Colorado were far from unheard of. They were, in fact, more the norm than not. This bit of logic, however, didn’t stop the anxiety from roiling in her stomach. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she made a careful right-hand turn, just as the GPS instructed. How many folks would even remember her name, let alone her hotfooted retreat from the wedding altar and the man she was supposed to marry?
Couldn’t be too many, she assured herself. Out of those who happened to remember both Daisy and the details of that long-ago May morning? The majority of that group would likely be a great deal more curious about her reappearance than they would be unwelcoming.
Unfortunately, she knew what rested at the center of her unease, and it wasn’t the weather or the general population of Steamboat Springs. Nope, the reason for her pumped-up nerves and racing heart could be found in one man and one man only: Reid Foster.
The man she’d left behind.
Just the thought of seeing Reid again brought forth a slew of shivers and complicated, complex emotions. They hadn’t spoken even once since the day she’d ended their relationship and had discarded their future in favor of a quickly packed suitcase and a bus out of town.
She’d wanted to. Had damn well yearned to speak with him, to fully explain why she’d behaved so cowardly and left him with a letter, instead of an honest conversation. Months had passed before she gathered enough courage to call.
When she finally did, Parker had answered Reid’s phone. Unexpected, as Parker had lived in Boston then, but also—due to her brother’s friendship with Reid—not terribly surprising. And he’d stated that she’d caused enough damage. That the best thing she could do for everyone was to leave well enough alone and forget about Reid.
If her brother had been unkind, she might not have listened. But in truth, he’d sounded sad and serious, rather than rude and blaming. She heard his deep concern, and in a flood of self-awareness, Daisy had understood—completely—the pain she’d caused.
So, because Parker’s stance made sense and the last thing she wanted was to create any additional pain, she chose to live with her guilt and heed his advice. Good advice, as it turned out, since Reid hadn’t attempted to contact her in all of these years, either.
But now, by the sole virtue of being back in Steamboat Springs, they’d bump into each other eventually. If not in some strange, random occurrence—such as at the grocery store—then either at the hospital, where Parker was recovering from a serious skiing accident, or at the house, where Daisy would be caring for her two young nieces, Erin and Megan, in the interim.
Regardless of the specifics, Daisy felt sure she’d find Reid in her line of vision sooner rather than later. Fate would demand nothing less. And she couldn’t imagine what that scene would look like, sound like, feel like. And that meant she couldn’t prepare.
Strange, really, how in some ways, the past eight years seemed as if an entire lifetime had elapsed, but in other ways, those exact same years were no more than a few seconds of a ticking clock. Or, perhaps more accurate in this scenario, a ticking bomb.
Over those years, she’d created a life. Had made friends and figured out how to work for herself, and now made a decent living. She’d even found her biological father, had spent a little time getting to know him, only to realize that he did not hold any answers for her. Only she could provide those. And, for the most part, she had.
She understood who she was. How she needed to live in order to survive, to remain true to herself, and seeing Reid again could potentially undo all of that.
So, yes, a ticking bomb was a fair and accurate comparison.
A strong gust of wind yanked the car to the side, catapulting Daisy to renewed awareness of her surroundings. Muttering a curse, she eased off the gas pedal and breathed in relief when the car returned to the road. None of what might or might not happen in the coming days mattered right now. All that did was getting off the road and to her brother’s house.
Parker hadn’t phoned her until almost a full week after his accident. Again, not unexpected. Her relationship with her entire family had remained distant and uncomfortable. If anything, she was surprised to be notified at all. By anyone.
But he’d been half-loopy from pain medications, and it had taken a while for Daisy to understand how serious his injuries were. Learning how close he had come to dying scared her, had made her realize how much time they had wasted. She’d already decided to return to her hometown when Parker asked if she would look after his daughters while he recovered.
Her sister-in-law—Parker’s wife, Bridget—had died three years earlier from cancer, and Daisy and Parker’s parents now lived in Florida. She had no doubt that if Charles Lennox weren’t recovering from hip-replacement surgery, it would be her parents caring for the girls. So she supposed she was the obvious choice, but she’d still been surprised by Parker’s request.
Naturally, she’d said yes.
But she hadn’t considered that she barely knew her nieces, having only met them twice before. Once when Parker had brought his family to California, and then, at his wife’s funeral in Boston, where the couple had met and made their home. Just short of a year after becoming a widower, Parker had returned to Steamboat Springs to raise his daughters.
And, other than the customary phone calls on birthdays and holidays, Daisy and Parker rarely spoke. So, no. She didn’t know her nieces. She didn’t know their likes or dislikes, what made them happy or sad, or any of the other myriad details that made up their lives.
A new rush of fear hit Daisy. How was she supposed to provide the security her nieces were sure to need when she’d spent so little time with them?
One way or another, she’d have to figure it out.
She also hadn’t thought about what it would be like to breathe in the same air as Reid Foster, to look into his sinfully dark eyes or to listen to the slow, deep, evocative cadence of his voice again after so freaking long. Any of those occurences might prove to be her undoing.
“Everything will be fine,” she said, forcing firmness into her tone. “Parker will make a full recovery. The girls and I will get to know each other. I’m their aunt, so they’ll love me. Of course they will! And seeing Reid again won’t be easy, but I’ll survive.”
Her dog, a rescue whippet whose brindle coat held varying shades of white, fawn and gray, whined plaintively from the backseat in a definite plea to get out of the car.
“Soon, Jinx,” Daisy said in a soothing voice. “We’re almost there.”
Due to her shock at Parker’s accident and her hurried departure, Daisy had forgotten to mention that she was bringing Jinx with her. Hopefully, neither of the girls was afraid of dogs, because she refused to kennel Jinx for however long her stay might last.
Whippets—a medium-size breed that originated from greyhounds—were intensely devoted to their owners, and since Jinx was a rescue dog, building the trust between them had taken close to six months. Not bringing her along was out of the question.
The GPS announced that Daisy had arrived at her destination. Slowing to a crawl, she located the proper house and parked the car as close to the side of the road as she could. She pulled in a fortifying breath and gave herself a few minutes to gather her bearings while staring at her brother’s home. Between the darkness and the blowing snow, she couldn’t see much, but the outside light was on, casting a friendly glow. A safe haven.
For now, at least.
Parker had stated that a few of his neighbors were pitching in until Daisy could take over, so she guessed the girls were safely tucked in for the night at one of the other houses dotting the street. She’d see them tomorrow. Her brother had also promised to have someone leave a key under the porch mat, so Daisy would have access to the house. She prayed he hadn’t overlooked this not-so-small detail, otherwise, she’d be back on the road, searching for shelter.
“Well, Jinx,” she said. “I guess we’re here.”
And, because there was nothing left to do other than go inside, Daisy leashed and picked up her dog, grabbed her overnight bag—the rest of her luggage could wait until morning—and pushed her way through the whipping snow toward the welcoming light.
“Ready or not,” she whispered into the howling wind, “here I come.”
* * *
Exhaustion, pure and complete, seeped through Reid Foster’s body. He leaned against the wall in the Lennoxes’ upstairs hallway, let out a bone-weary sigh and hoped the girls were as sound asleep as they’d appeared. The prior week and a half had taught him that one or the other—sometimes both—would fall victim to unquenchable thirst within minutes of their bedroom light going out. Sometimes, they just wanted another hug.
Either way, he figured he’d wait right here for a bit. Just in case.
Erin and Megan were scared, and rightly so. They’d already lost their mother, had already learned that even parents can get hurt, or sick, and go away forever. His heart wouldn’t allow him to do anything other than care for them the best he could. Most days, that meant rushing from work to pick them up and bring them home, so they could exist in familiar surroundings, with their toys and their own beds to sleep in.
But Lord, he was tired.
During the winter months, his job as a ski patroller often demanded extended hours filled with physically draining, challenging work. Toss in the care and well-being of two frightened children, along with visiting Parker whenever he could, and Reid was running fairly scarce on energy. Especially tonight.
With forewarning of the storm, which was now raging outside, and completing the necessary preparations, work had started early and ended late. When he’d arrived at the next-door neighbor’s house to collect the girls, he noticed they were more high-strung than normal. Soon enough, Reid discovered that they’d watched some tearjerker of a family movie about several children who were unexpectedly orphaned.
The neighbor had clued in to Reid’s disapproval and had apologized, stating she hadn’t realized the plot of the movie until the girls were engrossed. At that point, she felt she would’ve done more damage by not allowing them to finish watching it. Reid didn’t know about that, but the next hour of the evening had then been filled with one question after another.
Seven-year-old Erin, the elder of the two, who looked to be growing into a near replica of her aunt Daisy—both in personality and, other than the color of her eyes, appearance—had asked who would take care of her and Megan if their daddy died like their mommy had?
Initially, Reid was at a loss. Honesty, he decided, was the best route, so he’d—once again—explained that all indications stated that Parker was out of danger and on the road to a full recovery. And he was, though from what Reid understood, Parker had another surgery facing him, followed by months of physical therapy.
Five-year-old Megan hadn’t said a word, just sat there and watched Reid with her sad, fearful brown eyes. She’d looked so lonely that he’d picked her up and put her on his lap, where she snuggled against his chest and gripped his shirtsleeve as if it were a life preserver.
Refusing to let the rest of her question go, Erin had jutted out her chin—a mannerism that, again, had Daisy written all over it—and asked, “But if something happened to Daddy, who would take care of us? I don’t want to be in a f-foster home.”
Damn that movie. “Sweet pea, that would never happen,” Reid had said, and he’d meant it, but the truth was that he had no idea what Parker’s plans were if such a crisis ever occurred. He could, however, guess at the likeliest candidates.
He started with Parker’s parents, Charles and Clara Lennox, who had retired to Florida several years earlier, and then moved on to the girls’ maternal grandparents, who lived in Boston. While he knew Erin and Megan had a good relationship with both sets of their grandparents, neither answer fully satisfied the elder Lennox daughter.
With a quietly contemplative expression, she’d asked, “What if they can’t? Who then?”
Reid had fumbled for a second before naming their aunt Daisy, not fully believing that Parker would trust the care of his daughters to someone who was a virtual stranger, but unable to latch on to another person that would make sense.
Saying Daisy’s name aloud—something he rarely did—caused him a fleeting spasm of pain, of loss...a little bewilderment, along with a good, solid dose of anger.
At Daisy, for not giving them a chance before taking off. At himself, too, for keeping silent on the very same news that had sent her running. He should’ve told her the truth about her paternity when he learned of it, and not decided to wait until after they were married.
Perhaps if he had, she would’ve leaned on him, trusted in him and their relationship, instead of bolting and never looking back. To this day, she had no idea that he could have saved her from her mother’s ill-timed confession. No one, not even Parker, knew about the argument he’d overheard between Clara and Charles Lennox the week before the wedding.
That was a secret he still kept.
So, yeah, he’d kicked himself over his misguided actions. But he couldn’t undo them. And Daisy had made the decision to leave him and their future without so much as a conversation. In his estimation, that made both of them wrong and neither of them blameless.
But Reid was a practical man, and as the years had piled up on one another, he’d learned to keep the past where it belonged. Mostly, this mindset had proven successful.
Mostly wasn’t always, though, so mentioning Daisy as a possible guardian for the girls evoked the same mixed bag of reactions he’d become resigned to dealing with. As usual—at least for the last long while—those feelings dissipated as abruptly as they’d appeared, and Reid had returned his focus to the little girl on his lap and the one standing directly in front of him.
“Listen to me, angel,” he’d said, purposely speaking in a slow and authoritative voice. “I will never let you live in a foster home. I will always be here for you and your sister.”
Erin’s pinched expression softened slightly. “Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
That had done the trick, and shortly, the three were crowded around the tiny table in the girls’ bedroom, having a tea party with their favorite stuffed animals. After which, he’d prepared dinner, and the rest of the evening had flown by with various activities. The highlight, of course, was speaking with their father, and the promise that they should be able to visit him soon.
Baths and tickling and bedtime stories—three of them—followed. Both girls had seemingly drifted off toward the end of the last, and Reid had tucked them in, kissed them on their cheeks and gone into the hallway to stand guard.
Deciding enough time had passed to believe they were good and truly out, Reid pushed himself off the wall and yawned. He’d straighten the kitchen, since he hadn’t after dinner, shower and see if he could stay awake long enough to catch the news. Or...hell, maybe he’d skip all of it and just hit the sack, try to get up early enough to—
Muffled sounds that couldn’t be what he thought drifted up the stairs from the living room. A barking dog? In the house? Had one of the girls turned on the television when he hadn’t noticed? Had to be that, because he remembered locking the front door. Still, he took the stairs two at a time, and when he reached the landing, every damn hair on his arms stood up straight.
He didn’t need to take another step to recognize the low, sultry voice emanating from around the corner. It didn’t matter how many years had passed, that voice had been branded into his brain for all eternity. Without a doubt, Daisy Lennox—the woman he’d once envisioned spending the rest of his life with—had come home.
Dumbfounded, Reid froze and...just listened. She crooned to what he assumed was the dog he’d heard, saying something about kibble and a fresh bowl of water. One by one, each of his senses went on high alert, and his earlier mixed bag of emotions returned with a bang.
Part of him wanted to walk into the living room, pull her into his arms and take up where they’d left off—no questions asked. The other part wanted to go upstairs and hightail it out of a bedroom window, just so he’d never again have to look her in the eyes.
The first idea was foolhardy and beyond ludicrous. The second was gutless and as impossible as the first. Even if behaving cowardly were in Reid’s DNA, he wouldn’t sneak off while the girls were sleeping. He wouldn’t disappear on them, now or ever. With or without a letter.
To Reid’s way of thinking, that left him with a solitary option: man up and announce his presence, remain polite and calmly let Daisy know—since he had to assume her arrival was due to learning of Parker’s accident—that he had everything under control.
Shouldn’t take much to get her to leave, and this time, he’d be relieved—hell, happy—to send her on her way. Right. She’d be gone within two days. Certainly no more than three.
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?”
“I’m humoring her,” Reid said, his tone sandpaper-dry. “Until she loses interest.”
“She’s stubborn on this account.”
“I’m fairly sure I can outwait a dog.”
“You can try, but as long as you’re here, she won’t stop.” Deciding to make her stance clear before the energy in the room shifted again, Daisy pulled every ounce of her strength to the surface and said, “Just be careful when you leave that you don’t let Jinx out. She runs like the wind, and I don’t relish the idea of chasing her down in this snow.”
“Good to know.” Reid shook his leg harder. All that did was compel Jinx to grab on tighter, growl louder and pull with increased force. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
“Um...of course you are,” Daisy said firmly. “You’re going home.”
Dark, molasses-hued eyes met hers in a silent challenge. “Why would I do that?”
“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.
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?
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.”
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Tracy Madison
The runaway bride returns!Daisy Lennox comes home eight years after bolting on her wedding day…but for Reid Foster nothing has changed. Seeing her walk into Steamboat Springs to care for her two little nieces, Reid is hit by an undeniable realisation: they belong together…still.Love. Marriage. Children. Daisy wanted them…a long time ago. However, loving Reid comes with too high a price – facing the family secrets she ran from. But then Reid makes his move and he’s not letting her go without a fight.She owes him a wedding…and this time he intends to collect.
She saw it on the dog’s collar.
A tiny envelope. She touched it, feeling a small circular object. Oh, no. He couldn’t have … Her engagement ring.
Daisy opened it and a riptide of emotion engulfed her. Damn Reid for this visceral reminder of how much she’d loved him.
“Daisy.” Reid’s voice came from behind, evocative and sensual. “Once upon a time, a boy loved a girl and promised her the world. The girl accepted, returned the promise, and they were to live happily ever after.”
Before she could inhale another breath, Reid’s hands were on her shoulders. “Nothing has changed, Daisy. I still love you and I still want to give you the world.” His arms came around her. “All you have to do is say yes …”
* * *
The Colorado Fosters: They’d do anything for each other … and for love!
Reid’s
Runaway Bride
Tracy Madison
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
TRACY MADISON lives in northwestern Ohio with her husband, four children, one bear-size dog, one loving-but-paranoid pooch and a couple of snobby cats. Her house is often hectic, noisy and filled to the brim with laugh-out-loud moments. Many of these incidents fire up her imagination to create the interesting, realistic and intrinsically funny characters that live in her stories. Tracy loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at tracy@tracymadison.com.
This story is dedicated to a person who has become very important in my life. Thank you for your kindness, compassion, and seemingly endless support. I am eternally grateful.
Contents
Prologue (#udcbb2228-b37f-56dd-ad96-e0d0cc34c75e)
Chapter One (#uf01424f2-d2da-5d64-a2a8-78be28b312ed)
Chapter Two (#u38976386-9361-5e7c-94cd-c89177120c14)
Chapter Three (#u9453536b-237d-560b-beeb-0c8b3fe5f5d5)
Chapter Four (#u76c4aca7-0f5c-5b53-bf41-d857fc399426)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
Less than two hours ago, Daisy Lennox had stood in front of her bedroom windows and breathed in the fragrant scents emanating from her mother’s flower garden. The softest of breezes whispered against her cheek with the promise that Steamboat Springs, Colorado, would be blessed with a beautiful spring day. A perfect day, in fact, for a wedding.
For her wedding.
She’d closed her eyes and savored the anticipation, as the excitement strummed through her body. By nightfall, she would be Mrs. Reid Foster. It seemed...incredible that this day had finally arrived, that her dreams were so close to becoming reality.
Falling in love with Reid had happened naturally. Effortlessly. He’d been a part of her existence for almost as far back as she could remember, even if it had taken an absurd amount of time for him to view her as anything other than his best friend’s little sister.
Once he had, though, neither of them questioned their connection. And when he’d proposed last year, on the evening of her graduation from the University of Colorado, she’d accepted without hesitation. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.
With Reid, she felt whole. Reid’s love chased off the persistent sensation of not belonging, of not fitting in, of being the odd person out, that she’d battled since childhood.
So, yes. When Daisy had awakened to sunny skies and a warm, fragrant breeze, with hope and delight bubbling in her veins, she had zero reason to believe that anything would—or could—interfere with her pure, soul-deep certainty of the future.
Unfortunately, fate had other ideas.
A broken, emotional confession from Daisy’s mother had shifted everything she’d ever known to be true into a new reality. This—the story her mother told—was the fodder for bad television, and not the life of a woman who was about to be married.
None of this could be real. Yet...somehow, it was.
Emptiness, engulfing and complete, overtook her prior joy. Her breaths came in jagged gasps and her body shook as she attempted to process the unimaginable.
“I know this is a shock,” her mother, Clara Lennox, said. She wrapped her arm over Daisy’s shoulder and drew her close. “Are you okay?”
Okay? No, she was most definitely not okay. She pulled free from her mother’s grasp, and as if on their own accord, her fingers reached for the wedding gown she’d laid out on her bed that morning. She crumpled the silky fabric in her fist and tried to bring Reid’s face, his voice, his very presence, to mind. Tried to sink herself in his love for her, in hers for him.
“That was a silly thing to ask. Of course you’re not okay,” Clara said. “How could you be? But...do you think, once this settles some, you’ll—”
“Settles? I can’t imagine any of this settling in the near future.” Or ever.
“I understand. I’m sorry for this, sorry for...all of it.”
Lifting her chin, Daisy looked at her mother. Her pale blue eyes were puffy from crying. Her fiery red hair—so like Daisy’s own—had been nervously tucked behind her ears while she’d slowly, word by word, shredded the strands of Daisy’s identity.
On the morning of her wedding.
“Why today? Why not yesterday or six months ago or when I was ten?” Daisy pushed out the questions, still unable to fully comprehend the magnitude of her mother’s confession. “Why would you wait until what is supposed to be the happiest day of my life to tell me that...that—” she swallowed the sobs choking her throat “—I’m not the person I thought I was?”
“You are exactly the same person you have always been.” Sighing, Clara ran her hands over her face. “But I shouldn’t have waited for so long. I should have—”
“No, Mother. You shouldn’t have waited until my wedding day to tell me that I’m the product of an affair!” Selfish. Wrong to feel this way, perhaps, but this confession and the timing of it came off as selfish to Daisy. What did this do for her now, other than cause inexplicable amounts of pain and confusion? Not one damn thing. “How could you do this to me?”
“I waited too long,” her mother repeated. “I didn’t mean to, darling. I just couldn’t ever seem to find the right words or the right time or...I kept hoping your father would—”
“Which father?” Daisy’s anger rolled in, coating the rest of her spinning emotions. “The man who raised me or the man I didn’t even know existed until now?”
Clara reeled back, as if Daisy’s words held the physical force of a slap. “Charles Lennox. The man who raised you. The man who accepted you when I admitted my...mistake to him.”
“He has never accepted me,” Daisy whispered. “And now, I know why.”
“You’re wrong. He loves you.”
“Then why isn’t he sitting here with us?”
“Because your father...that is, we decided this should come from me.”
Not a surprise. If there was one aspect of her father’s personality that Daisy understood, it was his reluctance to become embroiled in emotional scenes. Even so, she wished her father had chosen to be here, to offer his support, to give his assurances that he loved her, that he considered her his daughter through and through, and that he always had.
More than a want. She needed to hear this.
In that moment, though, with the glorious May sun dappling across her bedroom floor, Daisy didn’t fool herself into believing she’d ever hear those assurances from Charles Lennox. If he hadn’t been able to do so before, he certainly wouldn’t today.
She’d always ached to have the close relationship with her father that her older brother, Parker, did. Over the years, she’d convinced herself that her father simply had more in common with his son than he did with his daughter, and that their relationship, while often distant and cool, had absolutely nothing to do with her. Some men, as her mother consistently said, related better with their male offspring. Some men just weren’t able to develop a close connection with their daughters. And this belief, as much as it hurt, had also offered relief.
But this new information, the obvious absence of her father, along with the history of their relationship, painted an altered picture. One that stung in deep and intrinsic ways. She was not Charles Lennox’s daughter; she was the product of an affair. What could she possibly mean to him, other than providing the visible proof that his wife had cheated?
In heartbreaking clarity, this understanding answered every question she’d ever had. It explained the distance, the awkward hugs and the lack of pride or enthusiasm whenever Daisy accomplished something. More than anything else, though, this knowledge brought an undeniable logic to her father’s unwillingness to...love her the way he loved Parker.
Hell, she wasn’t sure she could blame him.
“He isn’t even in the house right now, is he?” she asked.
“He...thought we should be alone for this conversation.” Clara let out a short breath. “But he said he’ll return in time for the wedding.”
There was more her mother wasn’t saying. The truth of that was written all over her expression, in the tight way she held her body, in the subdued manner in which she spoke. And with sudden, sickening insight, Daisy thought she understood what that something was.
“Oh, my God.” Nausea lurched in Daisy’s stomach. “After twenty-three years of being my father, he doesn’t want to walk me down the aisle, does he? That’s why he isn’t here. That’s why you had to tell me today. He insisted, didn’t he?”
“He’ll change his mind,” Clara said quickly, still not looking at Daisy. “I...hope he’ll change his mind once he sees that you won’t view him differently now that you know.”
“He won’t change his mind.” This knowledge sat inside Daisy with total certainty, and somehow, the realization was more defeating than the rest. “You know it as well as I do.”
Clara faced Daisy. “I know he loves you.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever believed that.” Squeezing her eyes shut, Daisy attempted to slow her breathing, to quiet the stirred-up emotions. “Who is my father?”
“Charles Lennox,” her mother said stubbornly.
“I wish that were the case.” Daisy crumpled the silky fabric of her wedding gown tighter and asked again, “Who is my father?”
Releasing a sigh, Clara said, “What do you want to know?”
“Does he know about me?”
“No. It... We didn’t have an actual relationship. Like I said, he was someone I dated in college. I...I knew him before I met Charles, and he was just passing through. Your fath—Charles was out of town so often, and your brother was so little. I was lonely, Daisy. And—” a small sob broke through “—I made a mistake.”
That last statement carved into Daisy’s heart with the force, the sharpness, of a samurai sword. All she heard was that she was the mistake. Not the poor choice her mother made in the heat of the moment, not the one-night stand itself, but that Daisy’s very existence was some horrible blunder that could never be corrected.
Unaware of her distress—or, perhaps, just too lost in the past—her mother kept talking, repeating much of what she’d already said. This time, though, Daisy listened to every word, every nuance, every hesitation, and as she did, her sense of self—the person she believed herself to be—slowly and painfully disintegrated. None of what her mother shared eased the agony or the chaos or filled the gaps within. She didn’t know who she was. Not really.
“Thank you,” she said, interrupting her mother in midsentence, having heard enough. “I need to be alone. I need to think. I need to... Just leave for now. Please.”
The second that Clara exited the room, Daisy curled up into a ball and allowed her tears free rein. They exploded from deep inside, ravaging through her body with a ferocious intensity. When they stopped, she lay motionless, trying to find meaning in that which held none. Despite how hard she searched, there was nothing to grasp on to for strength, for stability.
Desperate and alone, she thought of Reid and how his love had always given her that strength and stability, a sense of wholeness and security. How just being near him brought all the shady, uneven areas of her life into focus. He made her...real.
And God, she loved him. She did. But the rest of her world had ceased to exist—at least, the world she’d always known, had always believed in—and what remained seemed cloudy and off-balance and without oxygen. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see the rest of today, let alone tomorrow or the next day or the one after that.
The sudden, frantic need to get away, to find a place she could breathe, hit her hard. No, no, no. She couldn’t do that...couldn’t leave Reid and the future she’d craved for so long. How could she do that? He made her real. Who would she be without him?
From the moment they became a couple, she had done everything in her power to show him that she could be exactly the woman he thought she was...the woman he wanted her to be. And unlike with her father, she’d succeeded with Reid. She didn’t have to fight so hard to gain his acceptance, his affection or his approval.
Really, all she had done was follow the path he’d created, whatever that path was, whether that meant her—their—choice of colleges, the timing of their engagement, their wedding date, even the details of their wedding. Reid made everything, from the smallest hurdle to the largest, easy. He knew what he wanted, and Daisy loved him, so she wanted what he did.
Didn’t she? Of course she did. Of course.
Another series of breathless sobs broke free. She wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them closer to her chest. With Reid, she would always know who she was, where she belonged. She would never have to guess or struggle...or...
Oh, Lord. No. Just...no.
One by one, memories jabbed into her consciousness, forcing her to confront the impossible. Throughout her life, she had attempted to become the daughter she believed Charles Lennox wanted. She’d formed her decisions, her interests, around him. And she had done so for the specific purpose of creating a loving relationship with her father.
Now she understood why she had continually failed. But with Reid, she hadn’t failed. They were to be married that very afternoon. In front of family and friends, but without her father by her side. In a wedding ceremony that Reid had planned from beginning to end, without Daisy uttering one word of complaint or offering her opinion.
She would simply sit back, nod and smile. Happy to do whatever he wanted, however he wanted. Not his fault, she knew, but hers. He was, for all intents and purposes, a force of nature. She had grabbed on to his energy, his strength of will, and let the tide carry her.
By doing so, she had become the woman Reid Foster professed to love, and with that love came definition. An identity. She was his girlfriend, his fiancée, now...soon, his wife. Maybe in a year or two or three, the mother of his children.
Who would she be if she hadn’t muted herself for her father, for Reid? Would Reid even love her if she hadn’t morphed into the woman she believed he wanted?
An unrelenting pressure stole the air from Daisy’s lungs, shuddered through her and stifled her sobs. She didn’t know the answer to either of those questions. Didn’t know if Reid would still want her, love her, and she couldn’t see a version of herself that didn’t include Reid.
He makes me real.
But...shouldn’t she be real on her own? Shouldn’t she know who she was, regardless if Charles Lennox were her father or not? Regardless if she were Reid’s wife or not? Shouldn’t she be able to find some type of strength and security and confidence within herself?
The answer was swift and tragic and...honest. Yes.
Sitting up, Daisy stared at her wedding gown, unable to believe that she was on the cusp of making such an unbearable, heart-wrenching decision. But she was. She had.
Fresh tears filled her eyes. Oh, God...she had.
She wiped her cheeks, took in a fortifying breath, and the soothing stillness of calm certainty took control. Yes. She had made her decision. There would not be a wedding today.
Daisy reached for the phone, her intent to call Reid and have him come over. So she could explain the horrifying details of what she’d learned, of her decision and the reasons for it, the best she could, face-to-face. He deserved nothing less. She knew this.
In the end, she just couldn’t do it. Seeing him now, when her emotions were so raw, when she felt lonelier than she ever had in her life, would do her in. She wouldn’t cancel the wedding or leave Steamboat Springs. She wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.
Reid’s commanding presence, his love for her, his absolute surety that they belonged together, would convince her to ignore what her instincts were all but shouting. Far easier and less painful to follow in his wake and become his wife, than to trust her newfound convictions and...leave. Start over. Become real on her own, without her family. Without...Reid.
Even as she wrote the letter, even as she carefully folded the tearstained pages and removed her engagement ring, even as she packed her suitcase, and even as she quietly slipped out of the house she’d grown up in, she kept waiting for something—an inner voice, a sign, anything—to change her mind. To stop her from leaving the man she loved.
Nothing did.
Dear Reid,
This morning, my life shattered into a million unrecognizable pieces. As it turns out, my father is not my father, and therefore, he is unwilling to walk me down the aisle. And I don’t know if you can understand this, but this information has made me feel lost, without balance, and I need to figure out how to fix this.
I can’t believe, even now, that I have made this decision or that it feels so right. But I have, and it does. I’m sorry I don’t have the strength or the courage to tell you this in person, but I have to leave. This is about me, not you. I know that sounds clichéd and awful. In this case, though, it’s the complete truth.
My love for you hasn’t disappeared. I doubt my love for you will ever disappear, and even as I write this, I still want to marry you.... Just not today. Maybe, if fate is on our side and you can find it within yourself to forgive me, we’ll have another chance in the future. A second chance at forever.
Someday.
Please, please forgive me.
All my love,
Daisy
Chapter One
Snowflakes, plump as a cherub’s cheeks, spewed and spat in the wind-soaked air, where they whirled in a mad, frenetic dance before they dropped to the ground and coated the world—this part of the world, anyway—in a thick, icy canopy of pure white.
Why wouldn’t Steamboat Springs, Colorado, be in the middle of a roaring winter storm on the night of the runaway bride’s return? Nothing else would’ve made any sense.
Gritting her teeth in concentration, Daisy attempted to see through the blinding snow as she navigated the last several miles to her brother’s house. Truth be told, she should’ve stayed overnight in Grand Junction when she heard the weather report. She hadn’t for the simple reason that she’d wanted to complete the last leg of her journey without delay.
She’d left her home in Los Angeles at the crack of dawn, and barring the intermittent stops to walk her dog, had made excellent time. Another four hours of driving—even with a winter storm warning in place—had seemed preferable to putting off the inevitable for another day. So, with the hope that she’d beat the worst of the storm, she’d pushed onward.
Well, four hours had turned into six-plus hours, and if what brewed outside her car wasn’t the worst of the storm, then Daisy figured it was soon to come. Her only goal at this point was to be safely ensconced inside Parker’s home when that moment arrived.
Sighing, she slid to a halt at a stop sign and tried to set aside the ridiculous notion that this storm was Mother Nature’s way of warning her off, of reminding Daisy that she wouldn’t be welcomed in her hometown after close to an eight-year absence.
And really, the thought was absurd.
It was the end of February, for crying out loud, so snowstorms in Colorado were far from unheard of. They were, in fact, more the norm than not. This bit of logic, however, didn’t stop the anxiety from roiling in her stomach. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she made a careful right-hand turn, just as the GPS instructed. How many folks would even remember her name, let alone her hotfooted retreat from the wedding altar and the man she was supposed to marry?
Couldn’t be too many, she assured herself. Out of those who happened to remember both Daisy and the details of that long-ago May morning? The majority of that group would likely be a great deal more curious about her reappearance than they would be unwelcoming.
Unfortunately, she knew what rested at the center of her unease, and it wasn’t the weather or the general population of Steamboat Springs. Nope, the reason for her pumped-up nerves and racing heart could be found in one man and one man only: Reid Foster.
The man she’d left behind.
Just the thought of seeing Reid again brought forth a slew of shivers and complicated, complex emotions. They hadn’t spoken even once since the day she’d ended their relationship and had discarded their future in favor of a quickly packed suitcase and a bus out of town.
She’d wanted to. Had damn well yearned to speak with him, to fully explain why she’d behaved so cowardly and left him with a letter, instead of an honest conversation. Months had passed before she gathered enough courage to call.
When she finally did, Parker had answered Reid’s phone. Unexpected, as Parker had lived in Boston then, but also—due to her brother’s friendship with Reid—not terribly surprising. And he’d stated that she’d caused enough damage. That the best thing she could do for everyone was to leave well enough alone and forget about Reid.
If her brother had been unkind, she might not have listened. But in truth, he’d sounded sad and serious, rather than rude and blaming. She heard his deep concern, and in a flood of self-awareness, Daisy had understood—completely—the pain she’d caused.
So, because Parker’s stance made sense and the last thing she wanted was to create any additional pain, she chose to live with her guilt and heed his advice. Good advice, as it turned out, since Reid hadn’t attempted to contact her in all of these years, either.
But now, by the sole virtue of being back in Steamboat Springs, they’d bump into each other eventually. If not in some strange, random occurrence—such as at the grocery store—then either at the hospital, where Parker was recovering from a serious skiing accident, or at the house, where Daisy would be caring for her two young nieces, Erin and Megan, in the interim.
Regardless of the specifics, Daisy felt sure she’d find Reid in her line of vision sooner rather than later. Fate would demand nothing less. And she couldn’t imagine what that scene would look like, sound like, feel like. And that meant she couldn’t prepare.
Strange, really, how in some ways, the past eight years seemed as if an entire lifetime had elapsed, but in other ways, those exact same years were no more than a few seconds of a ticking clock. Or, perhaps more accurate in this scenario, a ticking bomb.
Over those years, she’d created a life. Had made friends and figured out how to work for herself, and now made a decent living. She’d even found her biological father, had spent a little time getting to know him, only to realize that he did not hold any answers for her. Only she could provide those. And, for the most part, she had.
She understood who she was. How she needed to live in order to survive, to remain true to herself, and seeing Reid again could potentially undo all of that.
So, yes, a ticking bomb was a fair and accurate comparison.
A strong gust of wind yanked the car to the side, catapulting Daisy to renewed awareness of her surroundings. Muttering a curse, she eased off the gas pedal and breathed in relief when the car returned to the road. None of what might or might not happen in the coming days mattered right now. All that did was getting off the road and to her brother’s house.
Parker hadn’t phoned her until almost a full week after his accident. Again, not unexpected. Her relationship with her entire family had remained distant and uncomfortable. If anything, she was surprised to be notified at all. By anyone.
But he’d been half-loopy from pain medications, and it had taken a while for Daisy to understand how serious his injuries were. Learning how close he had come to dying scared her, had made her realize how much time they had wasted. She’d already decided to return to her hometown when Parker asked if she would look after his daughters while he recovered.
Her sister-in-law—Parker’s wife, Bridget—had died three years earlier from cancer, and Daisy and Parker’s parents now lived in Florida. She had no doubt that if Charles Lennox weren’t recovering from hip-replacement surgery, it would be her parents caring for the girls. So she supposed she was the obvious choice, but she’d still been surprised by Parker’s request.
Naturally, she’d said yes.
But she hadn’t considered that she barely knew her nieces, having only met them twice before. Once when Parker had brought his family to California, and then, at his wife’s funeral in Boston, where the couple had met and made their home. Just short of a year after becoming a widower, Parker had returned to Steamboat Springs to raise his daughters.
And, other than the customary phone calls on birthdays and holidays, Daisy and Parker rarely spoke. So, no. She didn’t know her nieces. She didn’t know their likes or dislikes, what made them happy or sad, or any of the other myriad details that made up their lives.
A new rush of fear hit Daisy. How was she supposed to provide the security her nieces were sure to need when she’d spent so little time with them?
One way or another, she’d have to figure it out.
She also hadn’t thought about what it would be like to breathe in the same air as Reid Foster, to look into his sinfully dark eyes or to listen to the slow, deep, evocative cadence of his voice again after so freaking long. Any of those occurences might prove to be her undoing.
“Everything will be fine,” she said, forcing firmness into her tone. “Parker will make a full recovery. The girls and I will get to know each other. I’m their aunt, so they’ll love me. Of course they will! And seeing Reid again won’t be easy, but I’ll survive.”
Her dog, a rescue whippet whose brindle coat held varying shades of white, fawn and gray, whined plaintively from the backseat in a definite plea to get out of the car.
“Soon, Jinx,” Daisy said in a soothing voice. “We’re almost there.”
Due to her shock at Parker’s accident and her hurried departure, Daisy had forgotten to mention that she was bringing Jinx with her. Hopefully, neither of the girls was afraid of dogs, because she refused to kennel Jinx for however long her stay might last.
Whippets—a medium-size breed that originated from greyhounds—were intensely devoted to their owners, and since Jinx was a rescue dog, building the trust between them had taken close to six months. Not bringing her along was out of the question.
The GPS announced that Daisy had arrived at her destination. Slowing to a crawl, she located the proper house and parked the car as close to the side of the road as she could. She pulled in a fortifying breath and gave herself a few minutes to gather her bearings while staring at her brother’s home. Between the darkness and the blowing snow, she couldn’t see much, but the outside light was on, casting a friendly glow. A safe haven.
For now, at least.
Parker had stated that a few of his neighbors were pitching in until Daisy could take over, so she guessed the girls were safely tucked in for the night at one of the other houses dotting the street. She’d see them tomorrow. Her brother had also promised to have someone leave a key under the porch mat, so Daisy would have access to the house. She prayed he hadn’t overlooked this not-so-small detail, otherwise, she’d be back on the road, searching for shelter.
“Well, Jinx,” she said. “I guess we’re here.”
And, because there was nothing left to do other than go inside, Daisy leashed and picked up her dog, grabbed her overnight bag—the rest of her luggage could wait until morning—and pushed her way through the whipping snow toward the welcoming light.
“Ready or not,” she whispered into the howling wind, “here I come.”
* * *
Exhaustion, pure and complete, seeped through Reid Foster’s body. He leaned against the wall in the Lennoxes’ upstairs hallway, let out a bone-weary sigh and hoped the girls were as sound asleep as they’d appeared. The prior week and a half had taught him that one or the other—sometimes both—would fall victim to unquenchable thirst within minutes of their bedroom light going out. Sometimes, they just wanted another hug.
Either way, he figured he’d wait right here for a bit. Just in case.
Erin and Megan were scared, and rightly so. They’d already lost their mother, had already learned that even parents can get hurt, or sick, and go away forever. His heart wouldn’t allow him to do anything other than care for them the best he could. Most days, that meant rushing from work to pick them up and bring them home, so they could exist in familiar surroundings, with their toys and their own beds to sleep in.
But Lord, he was tired.
During the winter months, his job as a ski patroller often demanded extended hours filled with physically draining, challenging work. Toss in the care and well-being of two frightened children, along with visiting Parker whenever he could, and Reid was running fairly scarce on energy. Especially tonight.
With forewarning of the storm, which was now raging outside, and completing the necessary preparations, work had started early and ended late. When he’d arrived at the next-door neighbor’s house to collect the girls, he noticed they were more high-strung than normal. Soon enough, Reid discovered that they’d watched some tearjerker of a family movie about several children who were unexpectedly orphaned.
The neighbor had clued in to Reid’s disapproval and had apologized, stating she hadn’t realized the plot of the movie until the girls were engrossed. At that point, she felt she would’ve done more damage by not allowing them to finish watching it. Reid didn’t know about that, but the next hour of the evening had then been filled with one question after another.
Seven-year-old Erin, the elder of the two, who looked to be growing into a near replica of her aunt Daisy—both in personality and, other than the color of her eyes, appearance—had asked who would take care of her and Megan if their daddy died like their mommy had?
Initially, Reid was at a loss. Honesty, he decided, was the best route, so he’d—once again—explained that all indications stated that Parker was out of danger and on the road to a full recovery. And he was, though from what Reid understood, Parker had another surgery facing him, followed by months of physical therapy.
Five-year-old Megan hadn’t said a word, just sat there and watched Reid with her sad, fearful brown eyes. She’d looked so lonely that he’d picked her up and put her on his lap, where she snuggled against his chest and gripped his shirtsleeve as if it were a life preserver.
Refusing to let the rest of her question go, Erin had jutted out her chin—a mannerism that, again, had Daisy written all over it—and asked, “But if something happened to Daddy, who would take care of us? I don’t want to be in a f-foster home.”
Damn that movie. “Sweet pea, that would never happen,” Reid had said, and he’d meant it, but the truth was that he had no idea what Parker’s plans were if such a crisis ever occurred. He could, however, guess at the likeliest candidates.
He started with Parker’s parents, Charles and Clara Lennox, who had retired to Florida several years earlier, and then moved on to the girls’ maternal grandparents, who lived in Boston. While he knew Erin and Megan had a good relationship with both sets of their grandparents, neither answer fully satisfied the elder Lennox daughter.
With a quietly contemplative expression, she’d asked, “What if they can’t? Who then?”
Reid had fumbled for a second before naming their aunt Daisy, not fully believing that Parker would trust the care of his daughters to someone who was a virtual stranger, but unable to latch on to another person that would make sense.
Saying Daisy’s name aloud—something he rarely did—caused him a fleeting spasm of pain, of loss...a little bewilderment, along with a good, solid dose of anger.
At Daisy, for not giving them a chance before taking off. At himself, too, for keeping silent on the very same news that had sent her running. He should’ve told her the truth about her paternity when he learned of it, and not decided to wait until after they were married.
Perhaps if he had, she would’ve leaned on him, trusted in him and their relationship, instead of bolting and never looking back. To this day, she had no idea that he could have saved her from her mother’s ill-timed confession. No one, not even Parker, knew about the argument he’d overheard between Clara and Charles Lennox the week before the wedding.
That was a secret he still kept.
So, yeah, he’d kicked himself over his misguided actions. But he couldn’t undo them. And Daisy had made the decision to leave him and their future without so much as a conversation. In his estimation, that made both of them wrong and neither of them blameless.
But Reid was a practical man, and as the years had piled up on one another, he’d learned to keep the past where it belonged. Mostly, this mindset had proven successful.
Mostly wasn’t always, though, so mentioning Daisy as a possible guardian for the girls evoked the same mixed bag of reactions he’d become resigned to dealing with. As usual—at least for the last long while—those feelings dissipated as abruptly as they’d appeared, and Reid had returned his focus to the little girl on his lap and the one standing directly in front of him.
“Listen to me, angel,” he’d said, purposely speaking in a slow and authoritative voice. “I will never let you live in a foster home. I will always be here for you and your sister.”
Erin’s pinched expression softened slightly. “Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
That had done the trick, and shortly, the three were crowded around the tiny table in the girls’ bedroom, having a tea party with their favorite stuffed animals. After which, he’d prepared dinner, and the rest of the evening had flown by with various activities. The highlight, of course, was speaking with their father, and the promise that they should be able to visit him soon.
Baths and tickling and bedtime stories—three of them—followed. Both girls had seemingly drifted off toward the end of the last, and Reid had tucked them in, kissed them on their cheeks and gone into the hallway to stand guard.
Deciding enough time had passed to believe they were good and truly out, Reid pushed himself off the wall and yawned. He’d straighten the kitchen, since he hadn’t after dinner, shower and see if he could stay awake long enough to catch the news. Or...hell, maybe he’d skip all of it and just hit the sack, try to get up early enough to—
Muffled sounds that couldn’t be what he thought drifted up the stairs from the living room. A barking dog? In the house? Had one of the girls turned on the television when he hadn’t noticed? Had to be that, because he remembered locking the front door. Still, he took the stairs two at a time, and when he reached the landing, every damn hair on his arms stood up straight.
He didn’t need to take another step to recognize the low, sultry voice emanating from around the corner. It didn’t matter how many years had passed, that voice had been branded into his brain for all eternity. Without a doubt, Daisy Lennox—the woman he’d once envisioned spending the rest of his life with—had come home.
Dumbfounded, Reid froze and...just listened. She crooned to what he assumed was the dog he’d heard, saying something about kibble and a fresh bowl of water. One by one, each of his senses went on high alert, and his earlier mixed bag of emotions returned with a bang.
Part of him wanted to walk into the living room, pull her into his arms and take up where they’d left off—no questions asked. The other part wanted to go upstairs and hightail it out of a bedroom window, just so he’d never again have to look her in the eyes.
The first idea was foolhardy and beyond ludicrous. The second was gutless and as impossible as the first. Even if behaving cowardly were in Reid’s DNA, he wouldn’t sneak off while the girls were sleeping. He wouldn’t disappear on them, now or ever. With or without a letter.
To Reid’s way of thinking, that left him with a solitary option: man up and announce his presence, remain polite and calmly let Daisy know—since he had to assume her arrival was due to learning of Parker’s accident—that he had everything under control.
Shouldn’t take much to get her to leave, and this time, he’d be relieved—hell, happy—to send her on her way. Right. She’d be gone within two days. Certainly no more than three.
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?”
“I’m humoring her,” Reid said, his tone sandpaper-dry. “Until she loses interest.”
“She’s stubborn on this account.”
“I’m fairly sure I can outwait a dog.”
“You can try, but as long as you’re here, she won’t stop.” Deciding to make her stance clear before the energy in the room shifted again, Daisy pulled every ounce of her strength to the surface and said, “Just be careful when you leave that you don’t let Jinx out. She runs like the wind, and I don’t relish the idea of chasing her down in this snow.”
“Good to know.” Reid shook his leg harder. All that did was compel Jinx to grab on tighter, growl louder and pull with increased force. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
“Um...of course you are,” Daisy said firmly. “You’re going home.”
Dark, molasses-hued eyes met hers in a silent challenge. “Why would I do that?”
“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.
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?
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.”
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Tracy Madison
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: The runaway bride returns!Daisy Lennox comes home eight years after bolting on her wedding day…but for Reid Foster nothing has changed. Seeing her walk into Steamboat Springs to care for her two little nieces, Reid is hit by an undeniable realisation: they belong together…still.Love. Marriage. Children. Daisy wanted them…a long time ago. However, loving Reid comes with too high a price – facing the family secrets she ran from. But then Reid makes his move and he’s not letting her go without a fight.She owes him a wedding…and this time he intends to collect.