“I died. Right there. A little piece of me broke off. I didn't know who Marilyn was referring to. I just sat there. When he got home, I confronted him. Asked him flat out if he was screwing around.”
“He denied it, I bet.”
“Actually, no. He said it had been going on for a few months and he'd wanted to tell me. That the guilt was just”—she made air quotes—”‘eating him alive.’ That he was in love with her.”
Holy crap. What a total dumbass that guy was. Who says that to someone?
Even he, bigmouth that he was, wouldn't do that to someone he supposedly loved.
“Jesus, Brynne. I'm sorry. Guys are fuckers.”
She snorted. “Literally.”
At that he smiled. “I can see why you've sworn off men.”
“In less than one day, my life had blown apart. And I'd spent every waking hour since graduating from college learning how to be the perfect corporate wife, changing my appearance to fit his needs, and the only job experience I had was working retail part-time while in school. There I was, in New York, away from my family and friends, my real friends, trying to figure out what to do with my life.”
“You came home.”
“I did. The next morning, I packed my stuff, loaded my car, and came home. I didn't even tell him.”
“Just like that? Good for you.”
She nodded. “I was humiliated. And hurt. We'd only been married a year, but we'd been together since we were nineteen and he betrayed me. I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't stay there. And we didn't have years of marital assets to divide. All we had was a mortgage and a few credit card bills. He said if I gave him a divorce, he'd take care of all that. It seemed like a good deal for me. I walked away with a clean slate.”
Interesting way to look at it. He imagined she could have gotten a little money from the deal, but she'd chosen to start over. On her own.
With almost no work experience.
Brave girl.
But, hang on…
She met his gaze again. “You're wondering where the shop money came from if I walked away with nothing.”
He sure was.
“The divorce was moving along and right before we signed the final papers, my lawyer called me. Kurt wanted to marry the intern.”
“Come on!”
“Yep. Not only was he divorcing me for a twit, he was getting engaged. And, oh, guess what? His parents are devout Catholics.”
Reid didn't know much about Catholics, but one thing he did know was that church weddings were big. And once you got married in church, that was it, no seconds. “Did you have a church wedding?”
“We had the biggest darned church wedding you can dream up.”
“That's a problem.”
“He wanted an annulment. Not only had he humiliated me, he wanted to erase me.” She met his gaze, those big eyes turning hard. “Like I didn't exist. After all I'd given up for him. That's when I got mad. Really mad. I may not have been his skinny blond, but I had feelings. I'd done everything for him and he wanted to wipe me away.”
Moisture filled her eyes and she paused a second, looked up at the ceiling. Reid curled his fingers. Fought to stay still and not wrap her up in his arms. Her husband was a douchebag. A douchebag who'd broken a sweet young woman.
And ruined her for the rest of the male population.
Ruined her for him.
For that alone, Reid should kill him. Just snap his neck.
“What'd you do?”
She shrugged. “I cried on Randi's shoulder. I'd been working at a boutique in Asheville, but money was tight. And living with my parents after all that time away wasn't working. I needed space. And a way to make a living. I was thinking about opening a shop in town and Randi encouraged me to do it. After attending all the charity fashion shows in New York, wearing the best clothes we could afford, and just generally trying to fit in with the elite crowd, I'd learned a few things. I thought maybe a boutique with beautiful, edgy things would bring people into town. So I went back to my lawyer and told him Kurt could have his annulment, but I needed to be set up.”
Reid flashed a smile. “Oh, honey. I think I love you. You made him pay for the shop.”
“I did. I walked away from our marriage without a dime and he wanted to erase me? No way. And you better believe I padded the numbers. I have a two-year cushion. Which means I have two years to build my little shop into something special. And I'll do it.” She poked him on the chest. Hard. “That's where the money came from. Happy now?”
He'd been a shit for thinking the worst. “Happy? No. I want to kill this guy.”
“You're not the only one. He shredded me.”
Reid stepped closer. Barely an inch of space between them and the energy, that crazy crackling that filled his head every time he got near her, lit him up. She dipped her head, but he tucked one finger under her chin, forced her to look at him.
“You fought back,” he said. “Guys like him, it's all about what they have and don't have. Things—possessions—are what matter to him. And you took his money. Damn, girl, I love that. You gave him one hell of a kick in the balls. If nothing else, be proud of that. This bullshit about him erasing you? Forget it. For years, he'll think about it. About how you wouldn't be erased.”
“You know, I never thought about it that way.”
“Well, then you should have.” He brought his lips close to hers and her minty breath tickled his skin, making him instantly hard. Oh, man, he wanted this girl. “I'm sorry I invaded your privacy, but I'm glad I know. Because, seriously, I was attracted to you before, I think you got that, but now? I got me some serious hero worship.”
She looked away. Just lifted her chin from his finger and stared out the shop window while Reid's chest got tight. I want her.
“Brynne, look at me.”
“No.”
He laughed. “Why?”
“Because I know what will happen.”
“What'll happen?”
“I'll let you kiss me and I don't want that. I've sworn off men. Five years.”
But then she did it. She looked up at him and all the air left his body.
He kissed her. Let her have it before she went on some tangent about sticking to celibacy.
Five years, his ass. Not if he had anything to say about it.
* * *
Reid Steele, hunk of the century, was kissing her.
Again.
And it was good.
Epic.
What am I doing?
Loving it. That's what. He wrapped his hand around the back of her head and she pressed against him, letting her body fold into his. His tongue eased into her mouth, just a gentle glide, and his breath was warm and he tasted like cinnamon and coffee and—ohmygod—so good.
Good enough that she might never stop. Ever. She was on fire. Every skin cell burning up, begging for more.
The bells on the door jangled and Brynne hopped back, out of Reid's arms and—wow—all that sexy, male heat disappeared. Instinctively, she inched forward again, her body wanting, needing, craving the closeness. If she could just take in the protectiveness and…safety.
Heaven help her, the woman who'd sworn off men, the woman who'd sworn to forever take care of herself, felt safe with him.
“Hello,” Maggie said from the doorway, her gaze on Reid. “Sorry to…interrupt.”
Gah.
Brynne straightened, pivoted toward Maggie and waved it away. “Not at all. We were just…”
What? About to strip each other naked? Jump each other? Hump like bunnies?
In the middle of her store.
What am I thinking?
Beside her, Reid snorted. “Quit while we're ahead, Brynnie.”
She speared him with a look. But he had a point.
“What's up, Mags?”
Still eyeballing Reid, Maggie sighed. “I'd like to go through Nelson's car. I'm working on a warrant, but his parents gave me permission.” She looked at Brynne. “I couldn
't find a spare set of car keys. I think you have his.”
Brynne headed to the desk. “I do.”
Right next to his phone that was currently charging. She wouldn't mention that. Not yet. If Maggie wanted the phone, she'd ask for it.
As close as she and Nelson were, she wasn't family and if his parents gave permission, that was fine. But Brynne wouldn't be the one to turn over all his personal items without the sheriff requesting them.
Some lines shouldn't be crossed. Particularly when Nelson was unconscious.
She handed over the keys. “I checked the trunk when I got back. The laptop isn't there.”
Maggie's jaw tightened. Probably from Brynne poking around in Nelson's car.
“I have no idea where else it could be,” Brynne said. “He either had it on him or at the house. You could try his office. Maybe he left it. It would be unusual. Especially if he was going to a conference, I can't see him doing that.”
Maggie held up the keys. “I'll check it out. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
The second Maggie was out the door, Reid turned to her.
“Okay,” he said. “Let's get one thing straight. That kiss? That's my ticket to dinner. Forget all this swearing-off-men bullshit. If you're swearing off men, you shouldn't be invading my mouth with your tongue.”
“You are insane. My God, you have no filter.”
“Hell no. Why would I want one of those? I am what I am, babe.”
And, oh, to have that confidence. Reid had a few years on her. Six or seven. Not all that much, but enough for him to be way ahead of her in the self-acceptance department. To know himself. Without question.
And be okay with it.
The way she felt now, she couldn't imagine it. The day she'd look in the mirror and be satisfied. No matter what.
Between her quest to be a size six—wishful thinking all around—and her constant questioning of what she'd done wrong in her marriage, that kind of confidence didn't exist.
“How do you know?”
“What?”
“You said you are what you are. How do you know what you are?”
His mouth dipped at the corners. “Is this one of those men are from Mars things? Because I have no idea what you're talking about.”
What an idiot. But she smiled up at him and patted his cheek. So darned handsome. “What I mean is, did you just wake up one day and not question who you were?”
“Oh.” He grabbed the hand on his cheek and kissed her palm, flicking his tongue across it and making her body heat up again. Then he totally blew the moment by waggling his eyebrows. God help her, she might jump him yet.
“You know you're an idiot, right?”
At that, he laughed. “Pretty much.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “I'm not sure I've ever questioned who I was. I'm just…Reid. The loudmouth guy who likes to get shit done and jump out of airplanes. It eats me alive.”
“Why?”
“All I ever wanted was to be a Green Beret. I can't do it anymore.” He pointed to his knee. “Can't pass the physical fitness test. And a desk job in the Army isn't my style.”
Now this was interesting. “I'm trying to figure out how to be more and you have to learn how to be less. What a pair.”
Another difference between them. All these differences. It'll never work.
“Man, you're tough on yourself. How is it your fault your husband was crappy? It would be your fault if you stayed with that dumbass. It's like that saying, the only bad hire is the one you keep. In your case, the only bad husband is the one you keep. Before you married that schmuck, did you question yourself?”
Had she? When it came to her weight, yes. Otherwise, not really. She'd known she wanted more than this little town. She'd done it. Went away to college, moved out from under her beautiful sister's shadow, and thrived.
On her own.
At least until her life blew up.
She shook her head. “Not like I do now. But you're right, maybe I'm looking at it backward.”
“You are.” He flashed a devastating smile. “Does it get me past that swearing-off-men rule?”
* * *
“Let's not get crazy,” Brynne said, totally shooting him down again.
But hey, he'd gotten a helluva wicked kiss out of her. And if he knew anything at all about himself, he'd keep working her, slowly chipping away, and eventually, he'd win her over.
If that kiss was any indication, paradise loomed.
For now, he'd give her space. “I notice you didn't give Mags Nelson's phone.”
“It's charging.”
My ass. “Pretty sure she knows how to charge a cell phone.”
“I wanted to look at it myself first. You showed up and distracted me.”
“And it was mighty fun.”
She spun away from him, headed to the desk. “You never stop.”
Not if he could help it.
He followed her and lightly patted her ass. The one he wanted to take a bite out of.
“Yip!” Reaching back, she smacked at his hand. “Watch it, mister.”
“Ooh, are you gonna get rough with me, Brynnie?”
Her eyes sparked, glistening under the glare of the overhead lights. “I just might. After I look at this phone.”
She scooped up the phone. “I don't think you should look. You're already too involved.”
Reid cornered the desk, peeked over her shoulder as she fired the phone up. “I'm also the guy who also almost got my ass shot off last night. I'm looking.”
She angled back and looked up at him. “I'm so sorry about that.”
“Don't worry about it. I'm just guilting you into letting me look at the phone.” He bent over, kissed the tip of her nose. “You're too damned irresistible. I hope you know that.”
She held his gaze for a second, cast her eyes down, and ducked away from him.
If it killed him, he'd free that crushed spirit. This girl needed to look in a mirror and see how exceptional she was.
Twenty-four years old and making it on her own. How did she not see it?
She swiped at the phone's screen, pulled up the log. Only a handful of numbers. Interesting. Old Nelson was apparently diligent in clearing his phone's history. Not completely unusual, Reid supposed. When bored he tended to wipe out old texts and phone numbers.
Unless Nelson was decidedly unpopular, he ditched his history on a regular basis.
“Recognize the numbers?”
“Not the first one. And the second one came in an hour before he visited me at the shop.” She tapped the screen again and pulled up the contact. RP. She angled back to Reid. “Initials?”
“Could be. Or a nickname.”
He pointed at her laptop. “This on? We'll do a reverse lookup on the number. See what we find.”
Five minutes and twenty bucks later, he had an Asheville address and a name for RP.
“Reginald Proman,” Brynne said. “Who the heck is he?”
The bells on the shop's door jangled and they both glanced up.
Jonah.
Crap. All that time Reid had left Jonah sitting in the Triple B. He'd forgotten his own brother. Who does that?
“Shit,” he said.
“Damn straight, Meathead, are we eating lunch or not?”
“Oh, boy.” Brynne held up her hands. “I'm sorry, Jonah. It's my fault.”
“No, it isn't,” Reid said. “You need to stop doing that. Taking the blame. I fucked up. Not you.” He went back to Jonah. “I'm sorry. Yeah, we're eating. I need you to check something out first, though.”
Jonah joined them at the computer. “What's up?”
“We pulled a number off Nelson's phone. Belongs to Reginald Proman. I need to know who this guy is.”
Jonah pulled a face. “Then can we eat?”
Reid grinned. Had to love his brothers. “I'll even buy.”
Jonah shoved them both aside so he could get to the laptop.
Again, the doorbells jangled.
A woman came in, asked Brynne if she carried some kind of cotton underwear and Brynne sent her down to the general store.
She came back to them. “Sorry. It starts to get busy after lunch. I have my part-timer coming in at two.”
“No prob,” Jonah said. “This won't take long.”
More bell jangling. Cripes. Brynne wasn't kidding. All of a sudden the place was Grand Central.
“Hi, guys.”
Evie strolled into the store, her ponytail swinging, her big blue eyes lighting up. Reid's heart swelled. His baby sister. He'd missed so much of her growing and had a lot to make up for.
“Hey, Squirt.”
She poked a finger at him. “I stopped being Squirt ten years ago.”
“Not to me. Why're you home so early?”
“My afternoon class got canceled so I booked. Figured I'd stop and see Brynne on my way home. What are you guys doing?”
“I have no idea,” Brynne said.
“Jonah is hacking.”
Brynne gasped and her eyes bugged out. “He's hacking?”
Reid shrugged. “Sure. What'd you think he was doing?”
“Not hacking.”
Evie swung around the desk, nudged in beside Jonah. “What are you trying to get into?”
“DMV.”
“Ooh, can I do it?”
And holy shit. What the hell? Fucking Jonah. “You taught Evie how to hack?”
“Yeah. It's a useful skill.”
“One that could get her arrested.”
Christ his brother had a short memory.
Not too short, though, because he drilled Reid with a look. Yeah, Jonah knew what they were talking about.
“It's nothing big,” Jonah said. “We play around.”
“In the DMV.”
Jonah sidestepped and let Evie take over.
Unfuckingbelievable.
But the kid's fingers sailed over the keyboard as she pounded out a bunch of code that was one of the languages Reid didn't speak.
“Brynne,” Evie said, “wanna hang out tonight? Get a pizza or something?”
Brynne smiled and all the controlled emotion, the wariness, that simmered below the surface when around men—and Reid in particular—melted away. He wanted her to smile at him that way.
“I'd love that,” she said to Evie.
Living Fast: Steele Ridge Series Page 11