“What did you think?” Anika asked.
“Not bad. Good choice.”
She scanned a table with glass jewelry and beads and picked up a necklace with green, gold, and red geometric shapes on gold-plated wire, turning it over in her hand. “I should get a gift for my mom. She loves jewelry like I do.”
“Get it.”
“Can’t. I’m on a budget. I shouldn’t even be looking.”
“I’m on a budget, too, but if I see something I really want, I get it. Life’s short. You never know when you’ll get sick or, basically, when your last day is.”
“Sheesh. That’s a depressing thing to say.”
“It’s reality.”
Anika picked up a small bauble among a group of items in the shape of candies. “Did someone close to you die recently?”
“Not recently. My mom.”
She glanced up, her heart going out to him. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Happens.”
He sounded flippant, but she sensed the change in him.
“When?”
“Junior high. This is pretty. What do you think?” He showed her a necklace with a gold and red heart pendant and six matching red and gold beads on the eighteen-inch chain. He obviously didn’t want to talk about his mother.
“It’s gorgeous, but I couldn’t afford it.”
“Fine, I’ll get it for you.”
“What? I can’t let you do that.”
“I’m doing it anyway. Nothing you can do about it.” He grinned his lazy smile and marched over to one of the sales clerks with the necklace in hand.
Anika rushed after him. “Reed, stop, really.”
“I’ll take this,” he said, completely ignoring her.
The woman smiled and rang up the sale while Anika hung back, unsure of what to do or say. She loved the necklace but didn’t think Reed should buy it for her.
“Here you go. Your necklace and a certificate of authenticity from the factory.” Reed handed her a little bag with the boxed jewelry.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say thanks.”
“Thanks,” Anika said quietly.
“Come on, I’m starving. Let’s see if we can find something to eat at one of the cafes.”
They walked out of the store and into the street.
“Why’d you do that?” Anika asked after they’d been walking for a while.
“Because I wanted to.”
“But why?”
He stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets. “My mother is dead.” His eyes clouded with grief and loss. “The reason I included Venice on my trip is because she always talked about this place. She wanted to see it, even had the Grand Canal as a screensaver on her computer. ‘One day, Reed. One day we’re gonna go there.’” He paused, swallowing hard. “She ate right—cutting out sugar and gluten and all that stuff. She worked hard and saved money for the future, she always said. She did everything right, you know? But that didn’t stop death from coming for her before she turned forty and realized her plans. I don’t want to be like that. I’m living my life. I’m eating the burger and having dessert afterward.”
He smiled. “Might as well enjoy myself. Maybe I’m just enjoying myself for her, you know? If she were here and wanted that necklace, I would have gotten for her, because she’d never get it for herself. It’s just a necklace, Anika. It won’t break me, and I want you to have it.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly. Her hand tightened around the box. “Where are you headed after Venice?”
“Up to Turin and then France. Then I’m going to Spain, Portugal, and ending my trip in England before heading home. How about you? What are you going to do?”
Anika shrugged. “Go home and try to find a job.”
His eyes narrowed. “What about Emerson?”
“The truth?”
“Of course.”
She laughed softly. “He and I broke up.”
“No way.”
She nodded, her face heating in embarrassment. “He broke up with me, and that’s why I’m here alone.” An eternal optimist, she still believed in romance and trusted that one day she’d meet someone who would appreciate her.
“Yeah, well, he was a jerk. He didn’t deserve you. You could do better.”
Anika watched him, askance. In all honesty, she should have seen through Emerson. She’d been so in love with the idea of love, she’d ignored the signs indicative of his true character. “Did you know him well?”
“No, but I could tell he was a jerk. He had that jerk walk and he was a dick in intramural sports. You were too good for him.”
“Now you’re making me blush.”
“It’s the truth. I can’t think of a single good reason why he would break up with you.”
Anika lowered her gaze. “He had his reasons.”
“Well, I guess we both got dumped.”
“Who dumped you?”
“Deanna.”
“The girl on the softball team?”
“Yep,” he replied, nodding.
“You don’t seem too broken up about it.”
“I’m not. She did me a favor.” He resumed walking and Anika followed.
“So what do you think is wrong with us?” she asked.
“Who says it’s us? Maybe it’s them.”
“You’re so sure?”
“Absolutely.”
He lifted his head at a cocky angle. Anika wished she had his confidence.
“Maybe in your case, but not mine.”
You’re broken. She couldn’t get Emerson’s ugly words out of her head. He’d said them after she told him she couldn’t have kids. At eighteen she’d had her ovaries removed because of painful cysts. She’d opted for hormone therapy, suffering through breast tenderness and vaginal bleeding for weeks that made her think she should have waited and sought out a different solution. The symptoms subsided after a month, but the regret and sense of loss persisted. There were no Mother’s Day celebrations in her future, and Emerson revived her anguish with his brutal words.
Reed stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Hey, whatever he said, he’s wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re pretty and smart and really nice. It’s his loss.”
“Pretty and smart and nice?” She latched on to the words.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t let the compliments go to your head.”
She laughed.
Reed didn’t laugh, though. “Seriously. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
He sounded so sincere that she believed him.
She hadn’t thought about Emerson in over twenty-four hours, and even now he was a fleeting thought, a cloudy memory when compared the vivid imagery of Reed before her. A few days in his company and she was developing feelings for him, knowing full well it was a bad idea.
Perhaps because she was particularly vulnerable since the abrupt end to her last relationship, but she wondered what it would be like to be his girlfriend. Getting involved with him was a non-starter—a rebound thing that she knew she’d end up regretting. She wasn’t here to get her emotions tangled up in another man—no matter how attractive, funny, and charming.
So a fling, perhaps? On another continent, did it even count? She saw Reed with new eyes.
“Thanks. I needed to hear all of that.”
The lazy smile came back, and the measured way he looked at her suggested he was reassessing her, too. “I meant every word. All of that.”
Chapter 7
Pat, pat, pat.
Reed awoke to three gentle slaps to the face.
“Daddy.”
He cracked his eyes. Brielle stood at the side of the bed, her face so close to his, her breath touched his nose. She was clutching Mr. Elephant—one of three companions she alternated between each night.
“Are you awake?” she whispered, making direct eye contact. Maybe he should get her eyes checked.
“I am now,” Reed muttered.
“I think t
here’s a monster in my room.”
“Honey, we’ve been through this. There’s no such thing as monsters.”
“B-but I heard something, Daddy.” No way he could resist the gentle whine of her voice.
Online research confirmed he was doing all the right things on the monster front—acknowledging her fear, telling the truth that monsters didn’t exist, and establishing trust by showing her there was nothing in the closet or under the bed. He hoped she’d soon grow accustomed to the house and wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night anymore, fearful of the unknown.
Reed swung his feet over the side of the bed and sat there for a minute, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the heels of his palms. Damn, he was tired. Tax season would be over soon, but his schedule was packed and stressful until mid-April.
Reed removed the flashlight from the drawer of his nightstand. “All right baby, let’s go check the room.” He took her hand and they walked down the hall.
A battery-powered mermaid nightlight rested on the round white table next to Brielle’s bed. It gave off a rose-hued glow, but alternated to purple, blue, and other colors during the night.
“Where’d you hear the monster?” Reed asked.
“In there.” Brielle pointed at the closet.
Reed flicked on the flashlight and swung open the door. Only shoes and clothes were inside. He made sure to turn the light into every corner so Brielle, who peered from behind his leg, could clearly see.
“I don’t see anything. Do you?” he asked.
“No.”
He closed the door and then crouched before the bed. Lifting the skirt, he waved the flashlight under it. Brielle laid down on the floor beside him, watching the light flicker over the carpet.
“I don’t see anything? Do you?” Reed asked.
“No.”
They both stood and he set the flashlight on the table by her bed.
“I thought I heard something. I’m not a liar,” Brielle said, her voice sounding wobbly. Reed knew she felt guilty for waking him up.
He lowered to his haunches. “I believe you, sweetheart, but there’s nothing there. We checked together. I checked and you checked with me, right?” She nodded. “Okay, let’s get you in bed now. It’s late.”
He pulled back the sheets and helped her into the bed.
“Remember, there are no monsters. They’re only pretend on TV and in books.”
“I know, Daddy.”
Now she sounded impatient. Reed smiled slightly.
Carefully tucking her in, he asked, “Are you comfy?”
“Um, I think I don’t want Mr. Elephant tonight. Can I have Baby Giraffe? He wants me to hold him.”
“That’s right, I heard him say so.”
“He can’t talk, Daddy.” She laughed, as if he’d said the silliest thing she’d ever heard.
Right. He needed to remember that Baby Giraffe could convey the need to be held without talking.
Reed took the stuffed elephant, placed it next to Teddy on the lid of her box of toys, and brought back Baby Giraffe. “There you go.”
She clutched the animal by its long neck.
“You good now?”
“Yes.”
“Did you say your prayers for Mommy tonight?”
“Yes. And you and Grandma and Grandpa and Pop Pop.”
“Good girl.” Reed kissed her forehead. “Good night.”
Because she expected him to stay, he sat on the floor beside the bed and rested his back against the wall. Across the room, a narrow bookcase with picture books and a shelf dedicated to photos of Brielle and her mother, Layla, sat in a corner. Brielle’s grandmother, Nanette, had recently sent the collection and he put them on display. The one to the front was a black and white photo of Layla and Brielle at two. In the close-up they had their cheeks pressed together, laughing into the camera. It was his favorite.
Of course thinking about Layla made him think about Anika. Almost every woman he’d been involved with since Anika had been black, as if he’d tried to recreate the same passion and intensity they’d shared. Yet none of them had been right. None of those relationships lasted. Picking women of the same race or appearance couldn’t duplicate what they’d had. What made him and Anika work was her personality. And none of those women were her, the person she was inside.
He sat there until Brielle’s even breathing became audible, but instead of going back to his room, he eased onto her twin bed. His feet hung off the side, but he simply wanted to be close to her for a bit.
He still harbored guilt about her mother. He should have married Layla and given her the life she obviously wanted but he pretended to believe she didn’t need. Because he suspected, despite her comments to the contrary, if he’d asked her to marry him—put in a serious effort—she would have said yes.
Reed closed his eyes. He was pretty sure God had a sense of humor. After all the shit he’d done, God saw fit to give him a daughter. Before Brielle’s mother passed away, he’d been a part-time dad. Not even part-time, with him living in New York and Layla living in Texas. Now that he filled both parental roles, he doubted his ability to master his responsibilities as protector, nurturer, teacher. How the heck did other single parents do it? Even with help, taking care of Brielle was a lot of work.
Most of all, removing her from what was familiar in Dallas filled him with guilt. Her grandparents, who’d helped raise her, aunts, uncles, and cousins all lived in the area and she’d grown up around them. They hadn’t been pleased when he’d come to take her but respected his rights as her father.
Brielle moaned in her sleep and rolled onto her back, one arm still locked around Baby Giraffe, the other sprawled out to her side. Her eyelids twitched and then stopped. Her rough breathing resumed its even tempo.
He watched her sleep, pride filling his chest. She’d changed him from a selfish bachelor into a responsible adult. She was the one thing he’d done right. How lucky was he to be the father of this kid? Even when she drove him nuts with Why questions every five seconds.
Daddy, why do I have to take a bath every night? I hate baths.
Because if you don’t, you’ll stink.
Why?
Because all the sweat and dirt that accumulated throughout the day will stay on your skin and make you smell bad.
Why?
Because it does, and you have to wash it off.
Why?
Because I said so.
Reed laughed softly and sat up.
He still had to figure out how to handle her tantrums. It was important for Brielle to maintain a relationship with her grandmother, but he dreaded the end of those phone calls. They missed her, and it was obvious she missed them, too. Each time his daughter hung up, she fell into a sullen mood. Then, her attitude morphed into cranky and difficult tantrums.
Had he made a mistake bringing her to Atlanta? He hated seeing his little girl go through any kind of emotional turmoil and wasn’t one hundred percent certain he’d done the right thing.
“Give her time,” his cousin’s wife had said.
He was trying, but it was hard.
“Do what’s best for my grandbaby. Bring her back,” Brielle’s grandmother had said when he spoke to her last.
Maybe he would eventually have to take her back, but not now. He still had time.
He wasn’t ready to give up yet.
Chapter 8
Today was demolition day.
Anika strolled past the two trucks parked in Reed’s driveway. Reed had liked her idea of opening up the kitchen to the den, so Edgar and his crew were going to knock down the partial wall between both rooms.
Anika rang the doorbell.
She had a full day planned. A stop at another house going through demolition across town, with much more work to be done. She also had to make a trip to the building surplus warehouse, the lumber yard, and pay a visit to a craftsman to inspect a custom cabinet he was building for a client. To accommodate the day, she’d dressed comfortably in jeans
, Keds, and a fitted orange T-shirt.
The high-pitched scream of a child came from the other side of the door, and Anika took an involuntary step back.
Another scream came loud and clear, and in the next instant, the door swung open. Reed stood shirtless before her, holding a wriggling Brielle wearing only a pair of striped panties, and whose uncombed curly hair resembled a multitude of wires all over her head.
Anika’s gaze shifted from the red-faced little girl to the tight-lipped grimace of her father. And then her gaze went lower. To the short, silky hairs on his chest that angled down into the low-slung jeans on his hips. Half-dressed and with fine bristles covering his jaw and chin, Reed looked exhausted but sexy.
Anika’s mouth went dry, and she forced her gaze to return to his face. “I came to check on the work,” she half yelled over the screaming child. Brielle flung her body backward in Reed’s arms and screamed even louder, tears pouring down her cheeks. Anika winced, shoulders lifting toward her ears at the eardrum-splitting cry. With those lungs, Brielle had a future in the opera.
Poor Reed appeared to be at the end of his rope, his hair uncombed and frustration evident in his eyes right before he closed them and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry about this. The workers are already here. Come on in.” He moved aside so Anika could enter and shut the door. “If you don’t mind, could you—” He broke off as the little soprano lurched backward again. “Brielle, behave yourself,” he muttered through clenched teeth.
The chastisement didn’t do anything to stop the screaming and only made Brielle add kicking to the tantrum.
“What’s wrong with her?” Anika hollered to be heard above the noise.
“She’s just—”
Brielle jerked again, this time lunging toward Anika. The sudden movement made Anika lift her hands, but Reed caught the girl.
“I’m sorry.” He gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain a hold on Brielle, who wriggled her tiny body with the speed and dexterity of a serpent. “I’ll get her upstairs and try to calm her down.”
That Time in Venice (Love Unexpected Book 6) Page 5