Reid: Vested Interest #4

by Melanie Moreland

  “Exactly. I think you need to talk to Sandy. From what Richard has said, she runs them all, the same way Laura does. She’s the eyes and ears of the place. She would have more insight than anyone.”

  “Good advice.”

  I heard the telltale cry of a baby in the background.

  “I have to go. Heather woke up, and that means my twenty-minute reprieve from both of them is over. Once the baby wakes up, Gracie is done with her nap.” She sighed, but I knew she wouldn’t trade it for anything. “Just like her father. Opens her eyes, and she’s raring to go.”

  I chuckled. “Kiss them both for me.”

  “I will. Let me know how it goes.”

  “You’ll be the first one.”

  Thursday, I brought in cookies—oatmeal raisin. I left some in the lunchroom, then sought out Sandy. She was in the boardroom, preparing it for a meeting with the partners. I handed her the small container. “For you.”

  She peered inside with a delighted smile. “Oh, my favorite! Thank you.”

  “I was thinking of going to Remi’s for lunch. Any chance you’d like to join me?”

  “As if I would turn down lunch at Remi’s—what time?”

  “One?”

  “Excellent.”

  I appeared by her desk five minutes early and swallowed to clear my dry throat when I saw Reid there. He looked tired and despondent, talking quietly to Sandy. I straightened my shoulders.

  “Hey, Sandy, are you ready?”

  She stood, gathering her purse.

  “Hi, Becca,” Reid mumbled.

  I smiled brightly. “Hey, Reid. All okay with the server room?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  “I heard there were cookies today.”

  “Yep. Oatmeal raisin.”

  “I didn’t get one before they were all gone.”

  Sandy looked between us, ducking her head. “Becca brought me my own container. Wasn’t that kind?”

  “I usually get one too,” Reid muttered.

  I laughed, hooking arms with Sandy. “I didn’t know if you liked oatmeal raisin. You’ll have to be quicker next time. Or, you know, tell me what you’re thinking.”

  We headed to the elevator, Reid staring after us.

  Once we were inside, Sandy pressed the button.

  “Well, this should be interesting.”

  Sandy listened to me talk, not saying anything until I was done. She finished her chicken piccata, laying down her fork and knife and patting her lips with her napkin.

  “So, Reid spent the day, kissed you, you cut his hair, you two talked about your pasts, and he walked out?”

  I pushed my eggplant parmesan around my plate, my appetite nonexistent. “Yes.”

  “Well, you did a good job on his hair. He looks tidy for a change.”

  I half smiled and set down my fork. “I think I upset him talking about my dad. It was insensitive of me to talk about how close we were when Reid has no family.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “He told you that?”

  “Yes.”

  “What else did he tell you?”

  “Not much. I think his past makes him uncomfortable.”

  She pursed her lips and sipped her mineral water. “Tell me exactly what you said.”

  I repeated the conversation as best I could remember.

  Sandy nodded her head. “It’s not that you’re close with your father. It’s your father’s advice.”

  I grimaced. “Not to let men take advantage?”

  Sandy sighed and patted my hand. “You are a lovely girl, Becca. Incredibly intelligent. I think you’d make a good match for my Reid. That boy is lost and needs someone to ground him.”

  “Thank you . . . ?” I had a feeling she had more to say.

  “But as intelligent as you are, you’re missing the big picture.”

  “Which is?”

  “I cannot betray Reid’s confidence, but I will say this—think about what your father said to you. Carefully.”

  I mulled over the words, my eyes growing round.

  “Reid. Oh my God, is he a recovering alcoholic?”

  She shook her head imperceptibly.

  “It’s not drugs. I’ve heard his views on drugs.”

  Her head barely moved.

  My mouth formed an O.

  “Reid’s been in jail?”

  “You would have to ask him that question.” She bent close, tapping the table. “And if you choose to ask him, I expect you to have already decided to listen to what he has to say and realize people move on from their mistakes. If not, I suggest you do exactly what Reid has requested and remain friends.”

  My heart beat hard in my chest. I thought of Reid. How he treated everyone around him, including me. With respect and kindness. The pain on his face the past week. How much I missed talking to him. The way I felt when he kissed me. How incredibly sad I would be if that never happened again.

  I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea Reid had been to prison. Whatever had landed him in jail must have been huge. Sandy was right, though. He had moved on. His coworkers at BAM clearly liked him and held him in high regard. Obviously, the partners knew his story. I needed to show him enough trust to confide in me as well.

  I lifted my chin. “I can listen.”

  “Good. I thought you would.”

  “I like him,” I admitted. “A lot. I don’t want to hurt him.”

  “Then don’t. It’s simple. If he chooses to tell you his story, and you can’t accept it, walk away. If you opt to stay with him, know you will have to support him fully.” She raised her eyebrows. “Even against your father. You decide how much this affects you. Nobody else.”

  She was right.

  I squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Sandy.”

  “Don’t make me regret being so gossipy.”

  I laughed. She’d scarcely said a word, instead allowing me to work it out myself.

  “I won’t.”

  “You need to make sure Reid comes to your place Saturday.”

  “You think he might not?”

  She exhaled, her expression sad. “Regardless of what Reid tells you, I will say this; he is vulnerable in ways my other boys are not. His life experience is limited. You need to remember that. If he is feeling at risk, he might send someone else.”

  “Shit.”

  She crossed her legs and signaled for the check. “You’re a smart young lady. I’m sure you can ensure it’s Reid who shows up for the install.” She pushed my hand out of the way when I reached for the bill.

  “Ensure it?”

  “He’s a bit dense, but he is a man.” She winked. “All men are territorial. Even dense ones.”

  “Ah.”

  She snapped the billfold closed and stood. “See? I knew you were intelligent.”

  Laughing, I followed her out of the restaurant.

  I made more cookies on Friday and dropped by the IT department, making sure they got some. I chatted with Craig and Dean longer than necessary, feeling Reid’s eyes on me as he worked on something in the server room. Later that afternoon, I locked myself out of my computer on purpose and called Reid for help.

  He was still uneasy and quiet as he worked, resetting my password. He pushed my laptop toward me. “You’ve never had problems remembering your passwords before now, Becca.”

  I shrugged. “I changed some earlier as per your protocols. I guess I forgot to write this one down.”

  “Okay. It’s all set.” He stood and strode toward the door.

  “Oh, Reid.”

  He turned at the door, not speaking, his face showing his emotions despite his attempts otherwise.

  “You haven’t mentioned it, but do you still plan to come by tomorrow, or will you send one of the other techs to do the install? Craig is great, if that works better for you. He makes me laugh.”

  I knew he had seen me talking with Craig earlier. Reid’s hand tightened on the doorframe, and his voice was dark. �
��No. I said I’d do it. I’ll be there.”

  I shrugged, acting nonchalant. “Whatever.”

  He looked furious. “Craig doesn’t have the experience. It’s my system. My responsibility. I’ll be there.”

  I knew very well that Craig had done some installs. I looked down to hide my grin. “Okay.”

  “Ten?”

  “Actually, I have plans for later, so can you come at nine thirty?”

  “Sure.” He paused. “Are you sure tomorrow still works?”

  “Sure. You said it wouldn’t take long. It’s good.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  He left in a huff, and I covered my mouth as I chuckled.

  Sandy was right. Even the dense ones were territorial.

  Reid

  I TOSSED MY phone on my desk with a low growl and threw myself into my chair so hard it slammed into the wall.

  I wanted to scream. Throw something hard. Storm back into Becca’s office and drag her from her chair, then kiss her the way I wanted to on Saturday. Hard, without restraint. Tell her I didn’t care what her father told her. That he was wrong.

  Convict or not, I was the right person for her.

  Craig makes me laugh.

  Not fucking happening.

  I dropped my head into my hands.

  I fucking made her laugh too. I wanted to be the only one who made her laugh the way she did when she was with me. I wanted to be the only one she did a lot of things with outside of work.

  There was no way in hell I was sending Craig to her apartment. No one was going near her on the weekend except me.

  I lifted my head, glancing around my office, desperate for something, anything, to take my mind off Becca and her words.

  For the first time in my life since I had discovered computers, nothing distracted me.

  With a low curse, I pushed off my chair, grabbed some workout gear, and headed down the hall to Aiden’s office. He looked up as I walked in.

  “Feel like sparring?”

  He studied me briefly, then stood. “You’re on, kid.”

  “I’m so taking you down, old man.”

  He chuckled, reaching for his bag. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Aiden shook his head, a smirk on his face. “Come on, kid. Where’s all your smack talk now?”

  I groaned, sweat running down my neck. My shirt was damp, and I had to wipe my forehead repeatedly. He was kicking my ass, barely breaking a sweat, and enjoying himself.

  “You are such an ass,” I huffed.

  “And you need to talk. What the hell is going on with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  In a second, he had my legs swept out and my body pinned to the floor. He grinned down at me. “We can keep going and I will work your ass until you collapse, or you can talk. Your choice. You’ve been sulking all week, Reid. Man up and get it off your chest.”

  “I haven’t been sulking.”

  He lifted one eyebrow, still holding me on the mat.

  I pushed on his hold and rolled away, flipping him off.

  He stood and grabbed a couple of waters, tossing me a bottle. “Talk.”

  I gave in and told him everything that happened on the weekend. Including what Becca said about her father and his thoughts on convicts.

  Aiden drained his water and shrugged his shoulders. “Good advice to his daughter. But you’re missing the point here, Reid.”

  “Which point? Where Becca doesn’t like cons, or the fact that I am one?”

  “The fact that, while her father is correct, you aren’t the usual leopard, Reid, so your spots can change . . . You haven’t made crime your career, which is what many of them do. You did something incredibly stupid, but you learned your lesson.”

  He crossed his legs with ease, his arms wrapped around his knees. “I mean, it’s hardly a shock that a cop would warn his kid about dating anyone with a shady past—drugs, alcohol, or jail time. But Becca isn’t a kid anymore, and you’re not a convict.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “You need to talk to her. Be honest, and go from there.”

  I grunted, staring at my worn sneakers. I picked at the loose trim, thinking I needed to buy a new pair.

  “So what got you all riled up and needing a beatdown?”

  “She told me I could send Craig tomorrow to do the install—as if I’d send that fucker to her place.”

  He laughed, falling back on the mat.

  I glared at him. “Glad I amuse you.”

  He sat up and wiped his eyes. “Not you, kid. Becca. She’s good.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He stood and extended his hand. I let him yank me to my feet, and he slapped my shoulder. “You’re new at this relationship game. I get that. I know it seems a huge thing, but trust me—talk to Becca. She wants this as much as you do. Both of you have been driving me nuts all week.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re all emo and snippy. She looks as though someone kicked her puppy and she is going to cry any second.”

  Becca looked as though she was going to cry? I thought she looked as though she didn’t care.

  “Was she trying to make me jealous with the Craig thing?”

  He chuckled. “Ding-ding. The boy finally gets it. She is interested. Now go get cleaned up. Tomorrow, grow a pair and talk to her. Be honest.”

  “How honest?”

  He met my eyes, his expression serious. “Tell her your story. If she’s interested, she needs to know it anyway. If she decides you have too much baggage, you’re better off knowing now. Or else, if you don’t want to risk it, you stay friends. It’s A or B. Your choice.”

  He was right.

  There were two possible scenarios that made me cringe, but if Becca chose to hear me out, it would be worth it.

  I kept telling myself that all night.

  I arrived the next morning at nine thirty as Becca requested. I didn’t stop for coffee, and I had no flowers for her. I avoided both places this morning, unsure if either was appropriate.

  Music thumped from behind Becca’s door. Confused, I lifted my hand and knocked—then again, when she didn’t answer. The volume lessened, and Becca pulled open her door. Her face was glowing, the skin glistening with moisture. She had her hair pulled away from her face, showing off her elegant neck. Her shoulders were bare, the neckline of the shirt torn and ragged. She was breathing heavily, the rapid action drawing my eyes to her chest. She was braless, her nipples straining against the tight shirt. Her black leggings clung to her like a second skin. There was a towel flung over her shoulder, and she wiped her face.

  “Oh hey, Reid. Come in. I’m running late.”

  Disappointed at her casual greeting, I followed her down the hall. Her ass looked especially pert and full today. I wanted to cup it. To grab her and kiss her, and grind my erection into her so she knew what she was doing to me. To prove that I was feeling was anything but casual.

  Instead, I set down my bag, trying to appear nonchalant. “Am I interrupting?”

  “No, I’m taking my class. Do you need in this area?” She indicated the empty space behind her.

  “No, um, I can start anywhere.”

  She lifted a bottle of water, taking a long swallow. The action caused her throat to work, and I was fascinated watching the pull of her muscles. When a small river of water escaped the bottle, racing down her skin and disappearing into her neckline, I was certain I whimpered. Her expression never changed.

  “How about I start at the door?”

  “Sure. I’ll be here.” She pointed behind me. “I poured you water. I know you like ice.”

  “Thanks.”

  I opened my bag on the counter, making sure I had everything I needed. I carried the control panel to the door, along with the contact and other items I would need. The music started up again, and I glanced
down the hall, freezing. My eyes widened when I realized what class she was taking. One, until this moment, I didn’t know existed.

  Not yoga or one of the jazzer-whatever classes.

  Pole dancing.

  Becca was fucking pole dancing in front of me.

  I stared as she went through some moves, seemingly forgetting I was even in the area. I knew my mouth hung open. I knew my dick lengthened.

  I knew I was fucked.

  She was elegant and graceful, a blur of movement as she twirled and arched.

  Wicked and tempting as she wrapped her legs around the pole and bent backward. The bow of her back was mesmerizing as she hung upside down with only the strength of her legs holding her in position.

  I had to turn away, fumbling with the items in my hands. I shut my eyes, counted to ten, and reached for the drill. I needed to concentrate.

  Except my gaze drifted back to her and I stared for endless moments, caught up in her actions. She hung on the pole using only her hands, her legs split and wide, balancing. She transitioned into a spin and moved onto yet another seductive move.

  I dropped the control unit, annihilating it when the drill landed on top. Cursing, I picked it up; grateful I always carried a spare. In the kitchen, I dug the other one from my bag, then desperate to cool off, grabbed the glass of water she had for me and drank it. I leaned against the back counter, watching Becca’s mesmerizing form.

  She did a series of moves, ending with a one-legged spin, her arms controlling the motion. When she was done, she bent low, one leg around the pole, her arm locked in position. Her hair dragged on the floor, her other arm stretched back, highlighting her curves. Her face tilted in my direction, and our eyes locked across the room. Her chest heaved, mine matching her breathing without thought. A slow, sexy smirk split her mouth.

  “You like that, Reid?” she asked, her voice a throaty purr.

  The entire week crashed down on me. The worry, disappointment, and frustration made me react. I didn’t care about her father’s views, her ideas of convicts. I didn’t care we needed to talk. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was touching her. She knew what seeing her would do to me. She did this deliberately to provoke me.

  It was my turn. The only thing standing in my way was the counter.