Tracy Madison - Reid's Runaway Bride

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.