Reed removed his hand. “Open your eyes.”
Brielle’s mouth fell open, and she jumped up and down. “Is this for me?” She looked back at her father, eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe it.
“All for you, baby.”
“I love it!” Two seconds later, Brielle burst into tears and pressed her tiny fists to her eyes.
Reed dropped to his knees and pulled her into a hug. “Ah, baby, why are you crying?”
“Everything is so pretty.” Brielle sniffled. “I love it so much.”
Watching Brielle cry happy tears against her father’s chest, Anika had to blink back her own tears. She’d expected joy but hadn’t foreseen this overflow of emotion from the little girl.
Reed rubbed his daughter’s back, cradling her close until her sobbing quieted.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
He pushed his daughter’s hair out of her face. “You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’d do anything for you.” He kissed Brielle’s eyelids and swiped away the remnants of her tears with his thumbs. Lifting her into his arms, he said, “Miss Anika did all the work. What do you say?”
“Thank you, Miss Anika.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie.”
Reed and Anika simply gazed at each other for a moment. He couldn’t hide the utter appreciation in his eyes, which made her feel particularly sentimental that she’d been a part of making them both so happy. Hands down, the best part of her job was the awe and joy on her clients’ faces after a transformation of their living space.
“I guess now we can finish dinner,” Reed said.
“I’ll meet you downstairs. I’m going to check the other rooms.”
The house was finally complete. Anika walked through each room, taking in all the changes. For the most part, the project had moved along smoothly, with only a few hiccups. It helped that Reed was so accommodating.
The neutral paint added warmth and needed color to the walls. The furnishings beautified the home with carefully curated pieces that added comfort and style, while allowing for the relaxed environment Reed preferred. And now Brielle’s room had satisfied not only Reed, but his little girl, as well.
The only outstanding item needed was a piece for the empty wall in the living room. Reed had rejected her suggestions thus far, but Anika hadn’t given up on her quest to find the perfect wall hanging that would tie in the blue and earth tones in the color scheme.
“What’s for dinner?” she asked, walking into the kitchen. Reed stood at the stove, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. The food smelled divine.
Brielle sat on her haunches on a stool at the island, her elbows resting on the cool granite top. Adorable with her long curly hair pouring down her back in loose curls, she wore a black T-shirt that said Playdate Material in silver script. In the past few weeks since she’d been spending more time with them, she’d learned from Reed that Brielle fell for shirts with writing on them, even though she couldn’t read yet.
“Pasghetti and meatballs. It’s my favorite,” she said.
“Smells delicious,” Anika said.
Brielle nodded vigorously. “Daddy makes good pasghetti.”
“Need any help?” Anika asked.
“I’m almost done. I’m taking care of my ladies tonight.”
The inside of her chest warmed at the words, and when Reed looked over his shoulder and winked at her, Anika blushed. With tax season over, they were able to spend more time together, but he still had to juggle caring for his daughter. Along with Mrs. Miller and a babysitter in the neighborhood, his cousins proved to be convenient alternatives in a pinch.
In addition to their evening jaunts to the movies, dinner, or some other engagement, she and Reed squeezed in more lunches. With more flexibility in her schedule, they tended to meet at the deli on the first floor of the Continuum building, or she’d swing by the house to dine on the delicious paninis Mrs. Miller made when he worked from home.
Then, every night after he’d put Brielle to bed, Reed called and they talked for at least an hour, about nothing and everything—catching up on the past and getting gossip on old acquaintances from their college days.
“I can’t wait to taste your spaghetti. I hope the food lives up to the hype from your biggest cheerleader.”
Reed laughed. “She’s definitely my biggest cheerleader. Did I ever tell you about my struggles with her hair?”
“No.” Anika sat on one of the stools.
After a quick taste of the sauce, Reed sprinkled in a pinch of salt and resumed stirring. “I didn’t have a clue how to style her hair. My cousin’s wife was a lifesaver. She took me to Target and showed me all these products for women with curly hair.” He set down the spoon and leaned his back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. “Did you know there’s a line called Mixed Chicks?”
Anika laughed. “Yes, I did.”
“I was overwhelmed by the choices, but Shawna, my cousin’s wife, she was really patient with me. I pulled in Mrs. Miller, too. We tried a few products, and Shawna showed us how to detangle and style Brielle’s hair.” He laughed to himself. “One day I was doing her hair, and her braid was crooked. I wanted to give up. You know what my daughter said to me?”
“What?”
“Do you remember what you said, Brielle?” The love in his eyes was evident when he looked at his daughter.
“You can do it, Daddy. I believe in you.” Brielle grinned.
“That’s right. You made sure Daddy didn’t give up.” As he became emotional, Reed’s jaw tightened. “So I started over, and I did it.”
Anika smiled at him and then looked at Brielle’s hair. “Now you’re an old pro.”
“If you think that’s good, wait until you see my cornrows.”
“You do cornrows?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not half bad.” He drained the spaghetti into a colander. “We’re eating on the deck tonight. If you don’t mind, could you grab the plates from the cabinet and help me take the dishes out to the table?”
“I don’t mind at all.”
They spread out the food family style on the outdoor table—meatballs in a rich burgundy sauce, spaghetti bathed in olive oil and brightened with lemon zest, garlic bread, and steamed asparagus.
Each one of them wolfed the food down and cleaned their plates, including Brielle, who ate a hearty amount for someone so small. Her animated chatter and giggles filled the evening air as the sun went down. Watching Brielle and Reed together, it was obvious how much they adored each other. He patiently answered all her questions and listened attentively as she described her time at the park and a visit to the children’s museum in painstaking detail.
When dinner was over, Anika sat on the den floor with Brielle and helped her build a castle with LEGOs, while Reed filled the dishwasher.
“Do you want me to put this here?” Anika asked, holding up one of the pieces. Brielle was very particular about what went where, so she was careful to ask each and every time.
“Um, no.” A frown lodged between the little girl’s eyes as she surveyed their work so far. “I’m going to put this one here, and you put that one over there, got it?”
Anika hid her smile so as not to undermine the solemn nature of their task. “Got it.”
Reed came into the room holding the cordless phone.
“Brielle, Grandma’s on the phone.”
His daughter’s face went from contemplative to sullen.
“What’s the matter?” Reed asked.
Instead of answering, Brielle jumped up and launched onto Anika’s lap, burying her face in her chest. Anika squeezed her tight, lightly brushing her hair with her hand, and stared up at Reed in bewilderment.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, and disappeared with the phone.
“Hey, sweetie, what’s wrong?” Gentle prodding did nothing to nudge an answer from the little girl.
A few minutes later, Reed came back into the room and got down on the floor in front
of Anika and his daughter, who still hid her face.
“Hey, there. What’s wrong, honey? Talk to me.” He brushed aside a swathe of hair so he could see the side of her face. Brielle didn’t respond. He opened his arms. “Come here.”
With her head bent low, Brielle slipped from Anika’s lap and stood in front of her father. He tilted up her chin with one finger. “What’s wrong? Does talking to Grandma make you sad?”
She nodded and then fell into his arms.
“All right. You don’t have to talk to her right now, okay?” He rubbed her back and kissed her forehead. “Want to dance with me?”
“Yes,” Brielle said softly.
They stood and Reed turned on the stereo. As the doo wop hit “Travelin’ Man” poured out of the speakers, Anika moved to the sofa. Reed and Brielle moved in time to the music, in what appeared to be a choreographed dance they’d done before. It was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. Reed treated his daughter with such tenderness and care, her heart melted.
“You have to dance with Miss Anika now, Daddy,” Brielle said when the song ended.
“I do? You think she’ll want to dance with me?” He slanted a glance in Anika’s direction.
Brielle came over to the sofa. “Do you want to dance with my daddy? He’s a good dancer.”
Anika suspected that for this little girl, there was nothing her father couldn’t do well. “I would love to,” she said.
“We’ve got to do what the young lady says,” Reed teased, extending a hand.
She went to him and he pulled her close with one arm around her waist as “I Only Have Eyes for You,” by the Flamingoes came through the speakers.
Their bodies glided across the floor in time to the music. “I hope you’re having fun. I know we can’t really talk with her here—or do anything else.”
“I’m enjoying myself. I love spending time with Brielle,” Anika quipped.
“I think I’m jealous.” Reed turned them in a slow circle, laughter in his eyes. “She likes you a lot.”
“I like her a lot.”
“I like you a lot.”
Anika’s heart raced. “I like you a lot, too.”
He rubbed his palm up and down her back, and her body came alive. She let the fingers of her right hand trail through the curly hairs at his neck as she gazed into his yes. They still hadn’t made love, temporarily settling for amorous kisses and heavy petting—but nothing like the night at Paschal’s, and her libido was in protest at being unsatisfied. It wouldn’t be so bad if Reed wasn’t the affectionate type. He thought nothing of touching and kissing her. Anika returned the constant contact, building the frustration to the boiling point.
“Are you free Friday night?” Reed asked.
“Are you?”
“I can be.” He lowered his voice. “Shawna told me whenever I need a break, I was welcome to let Brielle spend the night. I think I might cash in that favor this weekend. So what do you think?”
Anika’s body swayed with his. “That’s a good idea, but I’m attending a cocktail party at city hall at six, and then I’m going to an art stroll to source art for clients.”
“Care for some company at the art stroll?”
“I don’t hate that idea.”
“In that case, I’ll cancel the limo and chartered plane I had rented to take us to New York for the night.”
“My, my. You had big plans.”
“Yeah, but since you have that art stroll, let’s just stay in town and have some adult conversation and do other adult things.”
Anika laughed softly, a tremble of anticipation filling her stomach. “You’re just full of great ideas, aren’t you?”
“I try.” His eyes sparkled with amusement.
“My turn!” Brielle wedged her body between them and forced them apart. Anika returned to the sofa and basked in the warmth of Reed’s smile as he looked over his daughter’s head at her. She smiled back, heart full and excitement bubbling up inside her.
The pain had melted away and hesitation was a ghost from the past. Part of her wanted to slow down the speed with which she and Reed were moving forward, but another part knew it was impossible—that there was no way to ignore the magnitude of her emotional response to him. Their connection was undeniable and had survived the years they’d been apart. She knew she was taking a risk but dived in anyway, heart first.
Hoping, and praying, that she was not making a mistake this time.
Chapter 16
Who counted down the hours until she saw a man? Anika Taylor did.
The reception at city hall concluded earlier than expected, so she arrived half an hour early to the appointed gallery where she and Reed agreed to meet. She was nervous. Probably because with Brielle spending the night at her cousins’ house, tonight was a turning point. They teetered on the edge of a decision that would change them both for good.
The art stroll took place every second Friday of the month in the Castleberry Hill historic arts district. Not only did the local shops and galleries open their doors to the visitors descending on the neighborhood, artists came from out of town for the exposure. The additional foot traffic meant patrons and vendors buzzed throughout the street, and food trucks lining the avenue offered food options that could be enjoyed while strolling about.
Scoping out the interior of the gallery, she didn’t see Reed anywhere and proceeded to check out the paintings. She’d made her way back to the front of the gallery when Reed sauntered in, his tall frame dominating as he stood on the threshold for several seconds, searching for her. Once spotting her, he came over, his eyes filled with warmth as his gaze caressed her face.
If it were possible to make someone melt simply by looking at them, Reed would leave puddles of melted females in his wake everywhere his feet tread. Taking her hand, he closed the gap between them with a gentle tug.
“Hi.” He lifted her hand to his mouth.
Anika’s breath caught and held before releasing again. “Hi.”
He bit his bottom lip, eyes lowered to half-mast as he skimmed her body in the figure-hugging black dress. The neckline boldly dipped between her breasts and showed ample cleavage. She’d styled her hair in loose curls and wore more makeup than usual, which included red lips and smoky eyeshadow.
“You look incredible. How am I supposed to concentrate on the art in the galleries when I have a spectacular work of art right beside me?”
Anika giggled, warmth heating her cheeks. She’d taken great care with her appearance, and his reaction was exactly what she’d hoped for.
“You keep talking like that, and you might get lucky tonight.”
Reed’s eyes darkened and a predatory smile skated across his lips. “In that case…”
Shoving him with a laugh, Anika shook her head. “We’re here to look at art. I let you join me, but remember I’m also working.”
“Oh right, right.” Reed’s fingers brushed hers, and she leaned in, forgetting for a minute that they were in a gallery filled with patrons. He simply had that effect—he drew her in and made her forget her surroundings.
Their fingers laced together. Her hand fit comfortably in his warm clasp—as snug and secure as lambskin gloves. Touching him, holding hands, wasn’t awkward in the least.
They walked through the gallery hand in hand.
“This is nice.” Reed pointed at a large painting.
“The artist is from South Carolina.” Anika kept tabs on him via social media and had been anxious to see his work in person. The painting was imbued with eye-catching reds, greens, and browns. She filed away the image to retrieve at a later date for a client.
“What do you think about this for the living room? Or something similar?” Reed asked.
Wrinkling her nose, Anika shook her head. “You need a piece that better brings together the room’s neutral colors. Something subtler. How about…oh, how about that one.” She pointed to another painting. It was of a man standing in a boat, moored next to an embankment. The artist had
done such an excellent job, the blue-green water appeared to ripple on the canvas as it flowed beneath the white bridge.
“Remind you of anything?” Reed asked.
“Yes.”
They didn’t need to say another word or add additional detail. Their thoughts were perfectly in tune.
“I’m going to get it,” Reed said.
“Now?”
“Yes. Before someone else does. I think it would be perfect for that empty space on the wall in the living room. It fits the decor, right?”
“It does.”
“No time like the present.”
They tracked down a salesperson and in very short order, a Sold sticker was placed on the painting, Reed paid for it, and gave the woman his information for delivery.
“Where to next?” He tucked Anika’s hand back into his.
“Follow me.”
They took their time browsing the other galleries, and because Anika knew a few of the gallery owners, she talked to them about undiscovered artists or new pieces that had arrived since her last visit. She also took photos whenever she saw a piece that could potentially work in a client’s home, or if it was a work of art Davenport Design Studio could keep in their small showroom for future projects.
One of her favorite spots was the energy and vibrancy of No Mas Hacienda. The building housed a restaurant serving Mexican cuisine, a tequila tasting room, and an artisan market stocked with handmade goods—silver jewelry, masks, pottery, basket lights hanging from the ceiling, and fantastical creatures carved from the sacred copal tree and painted with intricate Zapotec symbols.
By the time they finished walking around, they’d worked up an appetite and joined the people crowded around the food trucks.
Anika ordered three tacos from a Mexican food vendor, and Reed chose BBQ pork ribs with a side of wedge fries. He sat on a window ledge outside a closed clothing store.
“Come here,” he said, pulling Anika between his legs. “Sit.”
“You want me to sit on you?” she said, playfully being difficult.
“Yes, I want you to sit on me.” He smiled up at her.
“You promise there won’t be any funny business?”
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