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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...?”
