His Ex’s Little Sister: Insta-Love on the Run, #1 Read online

Page 3


  I can talk to Reid. Everyone else in my family is liable to break out a rifle and let the buck shots do the talking.

  “Okay, fine. Give me your number. I can meet you after work tomorrow, but you need to promise me that after we talk, you’ll go off into the sunset, or under a rock, wherever, as long as you don’t go looking for Danielle or anyone else for answers. As far as I’m concerned, you’re nine years too late. Deal?”

  He studies me for a second before shaking his head and reaching into his pocket. “Deal,” he answers, and passes a business card to me. “Send me a text so we can set something up. See you around, Robin.”

  “That meathead is Danielle’s ex?” Barclay asks once Reid returns inside and is safely out of earshot.

  “Yes.”

  He turns and walks back to his beat-up Toyota truck. “And you felt compelled to sing that song?”

  “I couldn’t help myself. Why didn’t you stop me?”

  He reaches into his pocket and finds one of the hairbands he uses to put all that hair into a manbun. He always does that when he’s upset or freaked out. “How the hell as I supposed to know who Reid is?”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. He was sitting there with his friends, looking so happy, acting like nothing happened, while Danielle had such a hard road because of him.”

  Barclay opens my door for me. He’s always been such a gentleman. “I get that, but seriously, talk about beating a dead horse and poking the bear, all at the same time. If you wanted him to stay away, it might have been a better idea to pick another song. You know? One that doesn’t kick him in the teeth or get him wondering what the hell went down that was so life-altering that it caused you…Danielle’s sister… to write a song about the two of them. You’ve pretty much sent out a signal flare that says, ‘Hey Reid, how the hell are you? What do you think about moseying on over here and tracking down my sister for answers while I bring up ancient history and open up some old wounds?’.”

  “Yeah. I guess that wasn’t too smart,” I breathe out, shoulders slumped and feeling like an idiot as I step up into the passenger seat.

  Barclay places his guitar in the extra cab space behind me.

  “Ya think?”

  I throw on my seatbelt and rest my head on the seat back, closing my eyes as Barclay goes to the driver side and gets in. I did this. I’ve got to fix it before it becomes a real problem. Protecting Danielle is all I care about now. Tomorrow, I’ll set up that quick meeting with Reid, apologize for going overboard, and leave out as many of the details as I can. All while avoiding a new discovery that I just found out about outside the ladies’ restroom.

  I find Reid almost irresistible.

  Lord help me.

  It’s time for some damage control.

  4

  Reid

  I’m early for this meeting with Robin, and for good reason.

  I want answers.

  Not that I deserve any, all things considered, but hell, her song is still echoing around in my head. I broke Danielle’s heart. Okay, I’m an ass for having been such a childish prick by leaving without saying goodbye. But there has to be more to this story. Something about Robin being so intent on ensuring I keep my distance from her sister has me on edge. I’m sure that her family is hiding something from me.

  All day today at work, I was tempted to clear an hour of my schedule to find out first-hand from Danielle herself. I don’t know where she lives, but it’s easy enough to stop by her parents’ place and ask for their daughter’s address. Still, something tells me I should get some intel from Robin before I show up on that doorstep.

  Mr. Sparrow is a damn good shot.

  Robin sends me a text on my phone to let me know that she has some time after her day job, and can meet me at Whiskey Jacks before she performs. I reply that I’ll be there. Perfect. No need to risk life and limb with a confrontation with Mr. Sparrow. The wait won’t be too long.

  I debate whether to tell her that my buddies and I happen to spend a lot of our free evenings at that very saloon, but decide against mentioning anything. We’re both adults, and my guess is she already dished out the worst of her fury last night with that song. As upset as she was before, during and after that song, Robin doesn’t strike me as the catty type. I spend the rest of the day in scheduled meetings and taking care of a few priority client emails. After the bulk of my to-do list is finished, I leave the office in one of the Cadillac Escalades in the company fleet.

  I don’t quite step down from my SUV in the parking lot when the sound of a woman’s high heels approaches, clicking on the concrete. There’s no surprise on my face as I make out Lou-Ann, one of the regulars here at the saloon. Lou-Ann is just another one of the one-night stands I’ve had, and a pretty solid reminder that I should never pick up chicks where I like to kick back—especially because one night isn’t usually enough for most of them. Not that I can blame them. I’m fit, sexy, handsome, and irresistible as hell.

  “Hi Reid,” she purrs, stepping up to me. I check her out as we stand between my SUV and a pickup truck in the next parking spot, just to give myself some insight as to why I slept with her that first and only time. Long dark hair. Cute face. Pretty smile. Average-sized breasts. Curvy all over. Scantily dressed.

  Yup.

  She’s pretty much my usual M.O. for hookups.

  “Howdy Lou-Ann,” I say.

  “You know, I never got a chance to get your phone number that night,” she informs me.

  “True.” There’s a reason I didn’t give her my number that night. The one-night stand does not require a second night, so collecting the phone numbers of women I don’t intend to sleep with again is counterproductive.

  Lou-Ann runs a hand down my arm. “It would be nice to hang out again, if you’re ever up for some company.”

  It takes real effort for me to give her a half-smile. My mind is elsewhere. I’m not here for entertainment, or beer, or good music, or the company of my friends. I’m here to get some answers.

  “My schedule is booked up for the next little while, Lou-Ann. I’m sorry.”

  “If I give you my number, will you call?”

  I press my lips together tightly, mentally crafting a polite way to turn her down. In all likelihood, I won’t be in touch. Because I need to wrap up this little chat, I throw her a bone. Taking out my phone, I pass it over to her anyway. “No promises, okay? Put your number in here and we’ll see.”

  Lou-Ann is overjoyed and gleeful as she adds her number to my contact list. “Make sure you call me,” she says, closing the distance between us. She runs her hands up my chest and laces her fingers around my neck. “Promise?”

  The ability to interpret body language and read between the lines do not appear to be in Lou-Ann’s wheelhouse. Frankly, given her level of attachment, I’m not willing to mince words anymore. I pull her hands away from my neck and take a step back. “Sorry, doll. I said no promises, remember?”

  She pouts at the gruffness of my words. “I thought you had a good time with me,” she whines.

  “I did.” That’s the truth. But having one night of fun is not reason enough for me to want another. Second dates are not in my wheelhouse. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting inside.”

  Lou-Ann makes another concerted attempt to change my mind by pressing her body up next to mine. She opens her mouth to say something more, and I decide enough is enough. Taking a solid grip on her shoulders, I move her one step away and slide past her. I give her a wave over my shoulder and keep walking to the front entrance of the saloon, where Robin is standing with her arms folded again, giving me the stink eye.

  Probably because she saw the whole thing.

  5

  Robin

  Once a dog, always a dog.

  I glare over at Reid as he and a curvy woman make small talk and practically start a mini makeout session in the parking lot. He even gives her his phone to put in her number.

  Dirty, sexy manwhore.

  I only came
outside to get some fresh air as I wait for Barclay to arrive, but maybe it’s a better idea for Reid and me to have this brief walk down memory lane out here with fewer witnesses. It will also allow me to avoid him like the plague for the rest of my time at today’s gig.

  “Evening, Robin,” Reid greets me with his broad, panty-dropping smile.

  I see right through the bright white teeth, good looks, perfectly fit body, and charismatic charm. This time, I won’t get sucked in by his broad shoulders, bulging biceps, or his imposing size that so many women must find ridiculously hard to resist. I’m not perfect myself, but this is one man I need to keep far away from, no matter what.

  “Reid.”

  The woman he was speaking with steps up to us and give me a grimace.

  “Have a good meeting, Reid,” she says to him. “Call me later?”

  Reid keeps his gaze fixed on me and ignores her. Whatever. “Where to you want to have this talk?” he asks me.

  “Right here is fine.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to sit in one of our cars? It’ll be more private.”

  I don’t need any privacy with Reid, so I shake my head. “A couple of minutes is more than enough. Right here is fine.”

  He looks out toward the parked cars. “Which of those is yours?”

  “The light blue truck,” I tell him. “Not that it’s your concern.”

  “Okay. I knew it looked familiar,” he says. “Isn’t that the Chevy Silverado your older brother, Josh, use to drive all those years ago?”

  “Also none of your business, but for the sake of wrapping up the small talk, yes it is.”

  I bite the inside of one cheek, pressing my back against the wall beside the entrance as I mentally walk through my prepared update. I thought about what I’d say all night last night, and the truth is, I wish that I didn’t clue Reid in on Danielle. It would have been even better if I didn’t acknowledge or speak to him at all, let alone sing that song.

  I have enough of my own ex-boyfriend problems. Which is why I’ve been working my butt off. It’s not fun slaving away as secretary of my boss, Mr. Rochford, during the day while taking as many evening gigs as I can handle. Mr. Rochford is an uptight general attorney with a small one-man-show law practice. He’s demanding, knows exactly what he likes and how, and has no problem pointing out the errors of my ways every chance he gets.

  But I need that job, and these performing gigs. By this time next year, Barclay and I will have enough saved up to move to Nashville and finally find the connections to make a go of hitting it big in the country and western world. It’s been our plan since grade school. The only thing keeping us from embarking on the dream now is Barclay’s education. He’ll graduate with a Master’s Degree in Fine Arts next April, and we’ll be on our way to making music and performing full time.

  I’ll also be free of my ex-boyfriend, Dave, who can’t seem to accept the words ‘it’s over’ even now, close to a year after I ended it. Changing the locks on the apartment we shared only made him more convinced that we’re meant to be together, as he says. A firm talking to from my parents didn’t help. Neither did the temporary restraining orders I got the courts to issue. He stayed away for the duration of the orders, and as soon as they expired, he started showing up again.

  I smile weakly at a thought. Dave and Reid should have a chat. They’re on opposite extremes of the romantic relationship spectrum. One can’t run away from women fast enough. The other can’t bring himself to stay the hell away. Maybe they’ll rub off on each other and find a happy medium.

  Or maybe not.

  With their luck, they’ll end up pickup up each other’s worst habits.

  “What’s so funny?” Reid asks, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts. “Or did you ask me here for…other reasons?”

  I don’t hide rolling my eyes. “Dream on.”

  Reid moves in until he’s less than two feet away from me. “Fine. Let’s talk about Danielle.”

  “Okay. First, let me say that I’m sorry about that song last night. I was out of line. It was not my place to…judge you or call you out like that.”

  “No need to apologize. I kind of liked the song,” he says. “The crowd sure loved it.”

  It’s not the reaction I wanted from him, but at least I got my apology out without making the situation worse. “Thanks.”

  “Isn’t that what good country music is all about? Pain, sadness and regret?”

  He sure caused enough of it, but I won’t touch that comment with a ten-foot pole now that I’m so close to having him out of my hair for good.

  “Uh, sure. Anyway, what you need to know is that she was in a bad place for a long time after you left. She doesn’t need to be reminded of you or the tough time she had. I want you to stay away from her. I think that’s it.”

  He can’t seem to mask his confusion. His eyes narrow, his brows knit together, and his head tilts to one side. “Really? That’s it? You asked me to meet you here, so you can tell me that Danielle was in a bad place?”

  “Look, I thought about it, all right? It’s best if you leave well enough alone.”

  “The fact that you sang that song suggests to me there’s something more. Just tell me what it is. You have my word that I won’t try to track her down or reach out to your family.”

  “She was depressed,” I blurt out, although truth be told, it’s only the tip of the iceberg. My gut tells me that if I give him this sliver of what happened to Danielle, it will be enough. It has to be. “Clinical depression. That was her diagnosis, which translated to frequent therapy sessions, prescription anti-depressants, and many other consequences. She ended up having to quit college, got fired from countless jobs around town, and she couldn’t live on her own. She still can’t. Meanwhile, there you are, off wherever you disappeared to in the Middle East, serving in the military, being celebrated and decorated with medals for protecting our country, when you couldn’t even grow a pair to tell my sister you were leaving. And now, look at you, doing well for yourself while she can’t hold her own. Why else would I be upset?”

  Reid nods. He’s been staring pensively at a spot above my shoulder, avoiding eye contact for the latter part of this heart-wrenching update. “I’m sorry she had a hard time,” Reid says. “You’re right. I was a jerk back then.”

  “Add immature, inconsiderate, selfish, and arrogant to the list, among other things,” I tell him.

  “Okay, those too.”

  “Damn right you were.”

  “Is there anything else you want me to know? Or something you want me to do for Danielle?”

  “No!” I blurt out way too quickly. “I mean, it’s too late for that. Water under the bridge, and all that. Just don’t be surprised if one or two of us use a picture of your arrogant face for target practice. Oh and by the way, be sure to steer clear of Josh. My brother has been saving up an extra-special can of whoopass just for you.”

  “I get it. You’re all hoping I don’t cross paths with Danielle.”

  “That’s right. The best, kindest thing you can do for her now is to leave her alone. She doesn’t need to go through another downward spiral.”

  “I understand. And what about you, Robin?”

  “What about me?”

  “Am I going to have to face your musical wrath every time you perform here? I’m asking because my friends and I spend a lot of time at this bar.”

  “Got it. No. You won’t ever hear me perform that song again.” I shake my head. “I’ll make a point of leaving it off the program from now on.”

  He leans forward, bringing his face close to mine. “Do you want me to leave you alone too? I have to ask, because yesterday I got the feeling there was more to your reaction to me than plain old hatred.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s no shame in admitting you’re into me, Robin.”

  “That’s just plain wrong,” I stammer out, irked that I myself don’t even believe the words I’m saying. �
�You’re out of your mind.”

  “Am I?”

  Reid takes my hand and places my palm against his black designer button-down shirt. He’s crowding me, invading my personal space. I should be putting some distance between us, but I’m mysteriously fixed in place. The force of his hand keeps mine plastered to his firm chest as it gives off waves of heat that radiate to my core and soak my panties.

  I’m almost glad he’s holding my hand in one spot, because I’m tempted to inch my fingers down to his abs, which I have no doubt must be just as tight and rippling with rock hard muscles. Dazed and off-balance, I push against his chest, hoping at least one of us is not stuck in a forbidden moment. Reid doesn’t move an inch. Well, he moves, but in the wrong direction. He’s closing in on me.

  His light hazel eyes darken as he gazes down at me. My eyes roam his face, taking in each feature while a tiny voice buried deep in the recesses of my mind fails at getting my full attention as it tells me this is all levels of wrong. I’m too distracted by Reid’s square jaw line, his short dark hair framing his face, full lips that are just inches from mine, and those eyes that hypnotize me.

  “Just tell me to leave you alone, Robin, and I will.”

  That gravelly voice vibrates through the air and permeates every square inch of my skin—and other places. The saddest thing about what’s happening to me is the knowledge that Reid is completely aware of what he’s doing to me.

  “Please…yes. Leave me and my family alone,” I finally breathe out. My cheeks and neck are hot and must be flushed red by now. I just hope there’s enough forcefulness in my tone to make him believe that I mean it.

  Reid narrows his eyes. “All right,” he says, but doesn’t move off, and he still has his hand clasped over mine with my palm flattened over his heart.

  I thank the stars as a smug smile curls up the sides of his lips, snapping me out of it. I can’t move back, but I find enough clarity to take a step to my left.

  “Bye,” I tell him, biting down on my bottom lip as I turn toward the front entrance and hurry to get away.

 

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