Reid: Vested Interest #4

by Melanie Moreland

  He was relaxed and wore a warm smile, and we had talked constantly. I made sure not to delve into anything else personal. We chatted about the office, the Ridge Towers project, and Bentley’s wedding that was happening soon. He told me some funny stories of the mischief Aiden liked to cause, making me chuckle. It was a good morning.

  “I’m glad I could help,” he responded.

  “Are you ready for lunch?”

  “You didn’t have to do that, but it smells awesome.”

  “Do you cook?”

  “No. I do a lot of takeout, so a home-cooked meal is a treat.”

  “Good. We can eat, and I’ll cut your hair.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  He sat at the counter, and I piled his plate high with the casserole I had made. He dug in, his low moans and muttered praises letting me know he enjoyed it. He ate two platefuls before he laid down his fork.

  “That was incredible.”

  “Good.”

  He drained his glass of water, pouring himself another. “Are you finding your way around the city okay?”

  I pursed my lips. “It’s a bit overwhelming. It’s so much bigger and busier than Victoria. I walk to work, and I found a few stores, but I need to venture out more. Get to know the subway system. Find more shops and explore the galleries and museums. There is so much here to discover.” I leaned a little closer. “I have to admit, I’m directionally challenged. I get lost easily, so I take it slow and get to know the area before wandering too far.”

  He glanced down at his plate, pushing his fork toward the middle. “I don’t want you to get lost. I-I could show you around, if you wanted. I’ve lived here all my life.” He looked up, nervous. “I know it pretty well. If y-you wanted,” he added again.

  I laid my hand on his arm. “Yeah, I want.” I echoed his words from earlier.

  He stared down at my hand, then lifted his, covering it. We gazed at each other, and our breathing picked up. He held my hand tighter, pressing it into his skin.

  “Reid,” I whispered.

  He tilted his head. “What?” he whispered back.

  “Are you ever going to kiss me?”

  He inched closer, and I leaned toward him. “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes.”

  Like magnets, we came together. His lips hovered over mine, his breath lightly fanning my face. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you.”

  “I wanted you to,” I replied. “So stop talking.”

  His lips pressed, light and fleeting. Then again, lingering longer. A third time, they touched, moving and teasing. Still light and soft. I moaned, sliding my hand up his neck to his hair, twisting the strands.

  “More,” I breathed against his lips.

  His hand cupped the back of my head, and he molded his mouth to mine. Our lips moved, and his tongue slid along my bottom lip in a silent plea. His groan when our tongues met was low and rough. He slid his arm around my waist, yanking me close. Still, his mouth was tender, adoring, and sweet. With gentle sweeps of his tongue along mine, he held me captive with his lips. He never pushed or groped. I felt his adoration and the way he was holding himself back. He tugged again, pulling me tight to his torso, and I gripped his leg to steady myself, brushing his erection. He jerked, pulling back. His glasses were askew and smudged, his breathing erratic.

  “Sorry,” I murmured.

  “I think I should be the one saying I’m sorry.”

  I dared to run my fingers over him again, feeling the hard length of him. “Don’t be sorry.”

  He covered my hand, swallowing hard. “You-you can’t do that.”

  “We’re both adults.”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  I kissed him. “Okay.”

  He sighed and pressed his fingers to his mouth. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but . . .”

  I cupped his face. “It’s okay, Reid. I’m not in any rush. Can I at least kiss you again?”

  He yanked me back to his chest. “Fuck yes.”

  “I need to cut your hair.”

  He smiled against my head. We had moved to the sofa and kissed for what seemed an eternity. We explored each other’s mouth, learning what the other liked. So far, it was everything. After, we simply cuddled. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had been happy to cuddle on my sofa.

  “Okay, cut my hair.”

  “I have to get up.” I was curled into his side, his arm wrapped securely around me.

  He dropped a kiss to my forehead and stood. I tried not to stare at the ample bulge in his pants and failed. I lifted my head, meeting his eyes, rubbing my hands up his thighs. “Are you sure I can’t . . .”

  “No. Once we know each other.”

  I let him pull me up, and I told him to go and get his hair wet in the bathroom. I moved the dishes from the counter and found my scissors. He came back from the bathroom, his hair wet, and the towel draped over his shoulders. I tried not to be disappointed he hadn’t removed his shirt. He sat in the chair I had brought from the bedroom, and I briskly toweled his hair. We were quiet as I combed and snipped. I tapped his knees so he would open his legs, and I stepped between them, concentrating on his long bangs. He slid his hands along my thighs, settling them on my hips.

  “So are you and your dad close?” he asked.

  “Yes. He had to become both Mom and Dad, you know. He gave up a job he loved to be there for me.”

  “His job?”

  “We lived in Vancouver. He was a street cop, and he worked a lot of shifts.”

  Reid’s hands tightened on my hips. “Your dad’s a cop?”

  “Retired now.”

  He seemed tense, so I stopped cutting and lifted his chin. “You okay?”

  He nodded, not saying anything. I bent and dropped a kiss to his lips. “I won’t cut you, and I won’t make you look funny.” Smiling, he dropped his face, but I noticed the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “What did you mean he gave it up?” he asked.

  “I was too young for him to be gone so much with shifts. He transferred to Victoria and took a job as desk sergeant. He did straight days so he would be home with me at night and on weekends. Where we lived was quiet, and there wasn’t really much crime.” I paused as I measured his hair, making sure I was cutting straight. “He hated it. He never said a word to me about it, but I knew it. He was bored and he missed being on the street. But he did it for me. So I didn’t have to worry about losing him as well.”

  Reid’s voice was edgy. “He sounds like a great guy.”

  “He is. Gruff and hard-nosed, but he’s my dad,” I chuckled. “Growing up, he was strict with me. He had rules I had to follow, and he watched over me carefully. He wouldn’t allow me to date until I was sixteen, and even then, I didn’t date much. My dad scared them away, I think.”

  Reid made a funny noise in his throat. His hands slipped off my hips, and I moved to the back, trimming the bottom of his hair. “I didn’t really mind. I was busy with school and I hung with my girlfriends. I was on the swim team, and I loved to run. Boys weren’t a big thing. He was looking out for me and, really, his rules were easy to follow.”

  He grunted.

  “He did so much for me,” I continued. “I wanted to make him proud. He had a stroke a few years ago and could no longer live on his own. He’s in an assisted living place—he has a small apartment and is doing well. There’s a dining room where he goes for his meals, and he has a tiny area where he makes snacks, coffee, that sort of thing. He has a lot of friends in the same place, and he is happy and settled. He stays busy, and his health is good. I don’t have to worry he is alone, you know?”

  “Was it hard to leave him?”

  “Yes. He was insistent I go. He knew how much I wanted to spread my wings, and he said it was time. I know Richard and Katy check on him. They take the girls to see him on occasion too. And I plan to fly home every couple of months.” I toweled his hair and combed it through one last time. “I ta
lk to him every few days. He makes sure I am behaving myself. Following his guidelines.”

  “Guidelines?”

  I stood in front of him, brushing off his shoulders. “Yep. The same rules as when I was young and he talked to me about dating and how I should be treated. ‘They disrespect you in any fashion, you walk. They give you trouble, you call me. If you’re afraid, find a safe place and I will come get you.’” I smiled at him with a shrug. “Dads. I guess they are a protective lot.”

  “Your dad was right. You should be treated well. Like a queen.”

  I fluffed his hair. I had a feeling Reid would treat me better than well, and my dad would have no complaints.

  “As I got older, he added another line. ‘No druggies, boozers, or cons, Becca. They can’t be trusted. A leopard never changes his spots.’”

  Reid stiffened. “Cons?”

  “Convicts,” I explained. “My dad saw too many bad ones, I guess. Repeat offenders. He begged me never to date one, not that I was interested. I prefer law-abiding citizens.”

  Reid didn’t say anything else.

  I finished his hair quickly, running my hands through the strands. A tremor went through his body, and his shoulders slumped.

  I rubbed his arm, his shoulders damp from the water. “Are you cold?”

  “No.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  His voice was dull. “Nothing.” He stood abruptly. “Are you done?”

  “Um, yes. Did you want to take a look?”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  I reached out to flick a strand of hair off his cheek, and he jerked back, my hand hanging in the air between us.

  “I just remembered I have someplace I have to be,” he said, looking over my shoulder.

  I blinked. “O-kay?”

  He grabbed his bag, heading for the door. “Thanks for the haircut, Becca. And lunch.”

  I hurried after him. “Reid? What is it?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.” He shook his head, looking anything but fine. “I’m late. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  He left, rushing out so fast he forgot to shut the door.

  What the hell had just happened?

  Becca

  AFTER REID TORE out of the apartment, I cleaned the hair from the floor and sat down with a cup of coffee. I was confused and worried.

  I traced the edge of the lily closest to me, the velvet texture of the flower soft under my touch. It had been such a fun morning. Reid had been relaxed, patient, and open. I loved hearing him talk. He was intelligent and funny. He was also a great listener and asked a lot of questions, which showed he was paying attention—a rare combination.

  Then, he kissed me. The sweetest, hottest kiss I had ever experienced. He was tentative, gentle, and warm. I felt his adoration in the kiss. I also felt the way he reacted. His cock pressed between us left me no doubt of his desire. His quiet insistence we weren’t ready had only increased how much I liked him. The kisses we shared on the sofa, and his reaction to me, made me certain of his attraction. It was mutual.

  But he had shut down. I went through our conversation and dropped my head into my hands. I had gone on about my dad. Reid had no parents, and undoubtedly, I made him uncomfortable and upset him the way I blathered on about how close we were. It must have struck a chord within him.

  I would apologize on Monday.

  I looked around the room, smiling at everything Reid had helped me accomplish. It felt like home now. We had hung my pictures, and the few knickknacks I took everywhere were now displayed. My books were on the shelves, my pole fully set up. Reid had even planned where a TV could go when I was ready. He assured me with wireless technology he could hide the electronic items so it would have a clean look.

  The way he kept glancing at the pole made me smile. It fascinated him. I wondered if he, like many other men, found it a turn-on. I wanted to find out.

  I finished my coffee and set the empty cup in the sink, once more looking at my flowers. Daisies yesterday, lilies today.

  I sighed.

  Would there be any others, or had I ruined that chance?

  Monday morning, Reid sat across the room from me at the usual, start of the week staff meeting. He was quiet, volunteering nothing until Aiden called on him, and his answers were short. Normally, one of the three BAM men would be telling him to wrap up the technical jargon and move along. There was always a great deal of laughter and teasing during those meetings. Today, it was as if everyone felt the odd vibe in the room. I noticed Aiden looked between Reid and me more than once, but he remained silent. After the meeting, Reid went to his office immediately and pushed the door shut behind him. I got the hint and didn’t bother him. I did my work, talked to other coworkers, and tried to ignore his closed door.

  I barely slept that night.

  When I arrived at work on Tuesday, Reid’s door was open, but he wasn’t at his desk. When I casually asked Sandy, she told me there was a problem in the server room and he’d been in there all morning. I didn’t hear his voice all day.

  For the first time since I arrived, my computer appeared to be in perfect working order. Not a glitch in sight.

  Wednesday, out of desperation, I jammed the printer and deleted a file I needed on purpose. Picking up the phone, I called Reid.

  “Becca,” he answered in a flat voice. “What can I do for you?”

  I ignored his bland greeting. “Reid, I’ve lost a file. I can’t find it anywhere. I was wondering if you could help me.”

  “Send me the name, and I’ll look in the system and find it. You probably put it in the wrong drive.”

  “No, wait!” I gasped, knowing he was going to hang up.

  “Yes?”

  “My printer isn’t working.”

  I heard his low sigh. “Fine, I’ll be in shortly.”

  Typically, he appeared right away. This time, I waited almost thirty minutes until he walked into my office, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else.

  “You didn’t send me the file name.”

  “Hello to you too, Reid. I hope the rest of your weekend went well?”

  He looked shocked. “Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”

  “I see. So that’s your excuse for being rude?”

  “I’m not being rude. I’m busy.”

  I crossed my arms. “I’ve been here for weeks. Every day, you say hello. Every Monday you sit beside me at the staff meeting. Every day you talk to me, even if it is all about BAM. This weekend, you kiss me, and now you can’t say hello or come close? Did I do that bad a job on your hair I deserve the silent treatment? Or am I that bad a kisser?”

  He gawked, his mouth hanging open. He shook his head wildly. “No.”

  “No to what? The hair or the kiss?”

  He sat down, defeated. Bending forward, his hands clutched between his knees, he lowered his head.

  I waited, resisting the urge to drum my fingers on my desk.

  Finally, he lifted his head.

  “My hair looks great. Even Bentley told me it was an improvement. Usually, he only says something when he hates it. So for the cut, I’m grateful.”

  “And?” I prompted.

  He glanced behind me, not meeting my eyes. “Kissing you was the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time. But it can’t happen again. I think we need to be friends.”

  I held my temper and resisted telling him I didn’t appreciate him making the decision for both of us. “I thought we were friends.”

  He smiled, but it seemed strained. His eyes looked tormented. “We are, and in order to stay that way, we need to be only friends.”

  I had to stop myself from reaching out to him. “Whatever I said to upset you, I’m sorry.”

  “You said nothing. I realized, though, that if we attempt anything else and it doesn’t work, it would be too uncomfortable for us working in the same office. So before we make that mistake, we have to stop.” He blew out a big breath. “Friends.”

  I studi
ed him, wondering if he knew what a shitty liar he was. One of his hands clenched and unclenched. The other tugged on the hem of his hoodie. His gaze was everywhere but on me. He gnawed at the inside of his mouth. He played with his hair. His tells screamed much louder than his words. He wanted to be only friends no more than I did. But I smiled at him and tilted my chin.

  “If that works better for you, I understand.”

  Disappointment and devastation crossed his face before he schooled his features. “Thank you for understanding.”

  “That’s what friends do.”

  He held out his hand. “I’ll look for that file for you.”

  I waved him off. “I found it just before you came in.”

  “The printer?”

  “The cable was loose. I don’t need you anymore. It’s fine.”

  His shoulders sagged, and he turned to leave.

  He paused at the door, but I kept my head down. It wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

  After he left, I shut my door and called Katy, Richard’s wife. She was my closest friend in BC, and I needed her advice.

  After hearing about Gracie and Heather’s latest news, and how much Richard missed me in the office and she missed me in general, Katy cleared her throat.

  “Okay, kiddo—what’s up? I can tell something is wrong. If you hate it there, say the word and Richard will have you back here in a second.”

  “No, I like it here, it’s just . . .”

  “Just?” she prompted.

  I told her about Reid. Our little dance in the office. Kissing on the sofa and his sudden retreat. His odd behavior all week.

  “I think I talked too much about my dad. I didn’t think about how it would make him feel since he doesn’t have parents.”

  “I think there is more to it than talking about your dad. I think you hit a nerve, but I don’t know him, so what it was, I can’t say.”

  “I was wondering about talking to Aiden for advice. Reid is close to him.”

  She laughed. “Who would you talk to if you were here and needed some advice in the office? Who would know more than anyone?”

  I answered without hesitation. “Laura.” She was Graham’s wife and his partner at The Gavin Group. She knew everything that went on in that office.