If she managed to squirrel in past his remaining defenses—if he made the almighty mistake of loving her again—he wasn’t confident he’d recover when she left. The first go-round had nearly destroyed him. It had taken far too many months to locate the smallest, most fragile foothold in which to begin building the rest of his life on.
The idea of having to rebuild that foothold from scratch petrified him to the bone.
Frustrated with his seeming inability to push Daisy out of his mind for more than a few minutes, Reid chose to focus on the practicalities of what needed to occur. Due to the weather, he had—at minimum—an unexpected morning off.
Since the prior night’s storm hadn’t abated, and the high-velocity winds combined with the unrelenting snowfall had resulted in blizzard conditions, the mountain passes were closed. Later, once the weather calmed some, he and his fellow ski patrollers would sweep the mountain to determine the level of damage and where avalanche-control measures were required.
For now, though, he was relieved to have some additional personal time in which to help the girls grow more comfortable with their aunt. Also, he needed to apprise Daisy of Erin and Megan’s schedule and a few of their individual quirks.
Every now and again, Megan would decide she’d only wear clothes and eat foods of a certain color. Reid hadn’t yet determined a reason for this behavior, but a few days ago she’d chosen blue. Most of her menu had revolved around blueberries.
Perhaps not the most balanced diet, but for one day, it had worked well enough.
And Erin, ever since her mother’s death, often required something to hug whenever she was emotional or sitting for an extended length of time. A pillow or a stuffed animal or, once or twice, her backpack or her coat. Typically, this was handled without too much of a problem.
But if such an item wasn’t close at hand at the wrong moment, she’d become fretful. To combat this, Reid unobtrusively ascertained that a stuffed animal was always nearby.
Major obstacles? No. But Daisy needed to be made aware of them, nonetheless.
Reid pushed out a long breath and tried to relax his muscles. If he fell asleep right this instant, he’d get an hour before the girls woke and the day began. Using a centering technique, he envisioned being on top of the mountain in perfect ski weather. The sun shone, the sky held the color of a robin’s egg and the powder was...glorious.
In his head, he inhaled a lungful of cold, fresh air, felt the bite of the wind against his cheek and prepped his body for takeoff. He was a few short seconds from the push and the exhilarating ride down when the scene blinked out and Daisy appeared.
A naked and prone Daisy, on the sofa downstairs. The deep red hue of her hair in stark contrast with the pale warmth of her skin. Her blue-green eyes—filled with desire and love, need and longing—were directed at him. And a soft, seductive smile played upon her lips.
God. That look—that smile—had always done a number on him.
Forcing his eyes open, he gave up on the idea of sleep. His agenda now consisted of a cold shower and a pot of hot, strong coffee. Then he’d get started on breakfast and hope that today was one of Megan’s “rainbow” days, which basically meant zero color preferences.
After that...well, he’d figure out the rest as needed.
Reid made the bed and grabbed a selection of clean clothes, including a pair of heavy work jeans and a thick forest-green cable-knit sweater, and headed for the upstairs bathroom. He’d no more than entered the hallway when a blur of color sped toward him with a...well, he didn’t quite know what to call this particular canine noise.
Not a growl or a howl. Not really a bark, either. Yip was too small of a word, and didn’t come close to the note of exuberant challenge erupting from the animal’s throat.
“Really?” he said when Jinx collided with his ankles. Bare ankles, at that, since he wore a pair of boxer shorts. “This is the way it’s going to be, huh? Every time you see me?”
The dog growled in reply and latched on to his left ankle in a surprisingly gentle grasp, as if searching for the pant leg she knew should be there. She didn’t hurt him, didn’t come close to actually biting, just grumbled and huffed with a few light gnaws tossed in for good measure.
More amused than annoyed, he let this go on for a good thirty seconds or so before deciding enough was enough. Walking carefully, to avoid squashing the crazy dog, he made his way down the hallway until he reached the bathroom.
“That’s it,” Reid said, as he turned on the light and put his clothes on the counter. “The end of the road. Go find a ball or, I don’t know, something to sniff.”
Not to be deterred, Jinx trailed into the bathroom with him, darting around his legs as he moved and bounding toward his ankles whenever possible. If it weren’t for the incessant growling, he’d think the beast just wanted to play.
“Listen up,” he said, feeling somewhat idiotic for trying to reason with a dog. “I really hope it’s only men you don’t like, because two little girls live in this house. If you’re this ornery around them, your visit will be awfully short.”
Since Jinx seemed unimpressed by this morsel of logic, Reid guided the dog to the hallway using his ankles as bait. She was quicker than he was, though, and managed to squeeze back into the room the second he started closing the door.
Obviously, another tactic was called for.
Shaking his head, he picked up the dog. Jinx wiggled in his grasp and began growling in an elongated manner that damn near sounded as if she were trying to form the necessary words to talk to him. Ludicrous thought. He blamed his lack of sleep.
He hefted the dog up, so they were eye to eye. “Pay attention, pooch. We can do this the easy way and become friends or you can remain miserable for however long you’re here. I guarantee you a happier visit if we’re friends. A visit that might just include table scraps and belly rubs. Your choice. Friends or miserable living companions? Let me know.”
And if a dog’s eyes could narrow in deliberation, Reid would’ve sworn Jinx’s did. Nonsensical, of course, but hell...that was what it looked like.
“That’s right, you consider that.” Petting the dog, he moved into the hallway and halfway down the stairs, where he put her down. “Find something to do. Or...I know, why don’t you wake up Daisy and tell her to make breakfast. And coffee. Strong coffee.”
He then retraced his steps without looking over his shoulder.
Thirty minutes later, showered and dressed but no more comfortable with his new living arrangements, he cautiously peered into the hallway. No sight or sound of Jinx.
Hell, if he could get a man-hating, irrational pooch to leave him alone, then he could certainly handle being around Daisy without repeating old patterns. Yesterday had been a shock to the system, that was all. Of course he’d reacted strongly.
Today was a different matter. She wouldn’t be able to get to him on the same level that she had last night. Besides which, his memories were of a woman—no more than a girl, really—who likely no longer existed. He’d changed in the past eight years. Surely, she had, as well.
The tight, suffocating pressure encasing his chest lightened. Perhaps he should view this...madness as a blessing in disguise. He and Daisy could finally have the conversation they should have had years earlier. She could fully answer his questions and...well, ask her own once he confessed that he’d known the truth about her paternity before reading her letter.
He’d tell her all of it. The overheard argument. His decision to keep what he’d learned to himself until after their wedding. How his past self couldn’t bear to see her hurt, couldn’t allow her to go through even a second of what that knowledge would do to her in the days before they were to be married. How