Baiting the Maid of Honor (Wedding Dare #2)(17)

Decision made, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to find out just a little more about her. They might part ways at the end of the week, but small talk had never actually killed anyone, right? Besides, he’d been curious about something since he first laid eyes on her. “Last night, when we met outside the restaurant, you looked stressed. Mind telling me what about?”

She moved beside him on the path, flashing him a look. “When you made your gentlemanly hair-pulling offer? I nearly fainted dead away at the sweeping romance of it all.”

“I would have caught you. By the hair, of course.” He circled his hand around her wrist, then fit their hands together as if it were natural for him to do so. It wasn’t, but he felt the ridiculous urge to put her at ease. “Still waiting on an answer.”

Julie merely sighed. “A work meeting that morning had made me late for my flight. There was a big”—she waved her free hand around as she searched for the right word—“hullabaloo over whether or not we should offer One-Eyed Jack at the New Orleans Saints stadium. You know, in those fancy air-conditioned suites? I’m sure you know the Saints are the biggest rivals of our dearly beloved Falcons, and Daddy doesn’t want our whiskey anywhere near them. No, sir. Thinks it’ll put a jinx on the Falcons.”

Reed hid his shock. He’d known Julie came from money, but the heir to One-Eyed Jack Whiskey? Holy shit. He’d had no idea. Not that it changed a damn thing. “And how did you manage to straighten out this little hullabaloo?”

She smirked at him. “I told Daddy I’d have him committed if he fought me on it. Can you imagine? Superstition has no place in the business world.”

“I thought all Southern girls were superstitious.”

“Oh, I am. Within reason. I would never invite thirteen guests to a dinner party. Or eat chicken on New Year’s Day. It’s just plain silly to tempt fate.”

“I see.” Reed realized he was smiling and shook his head to clear it. “So who is Serena?”

When her hand went stiff in his, he wanted to kick himself. Based on the phone call he’d overheard, he knew the subject was likely a touchy one. This is why he never made small talk. They walked in silence for a moment, then she turned to him with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Serena was my older sister. She passed a few years back.”

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded in acknowledgment as if she’d heard the words so many times they no longer held any meaning. He understood that too well. Growing up, he’d heard the same words countless times in reference to his own mother. After she’d died, he couldn’t go anywhere without having pity leveled at him from every direction, from people who’d never given him the time of day before. When the appropriate time limit for grief over her death had passed, they’d begun issuing “sorrys” for different things, as if the pity were transferable. They were sorry about his shabby lifestyle, living in a trailer on the outskirts of town. Sorry about his father’s gambling habit. Everything under the sun. Sorry, boy. Again, he recalled Julie’s words to her mother. The way she’d sounded so dejected as she’d spoken them, as if it were far from the first time. “If Serena was the perfect one, what does that make you?”

Julie kept walking, but the action looked involuntary. As if her legs were moving without her permission. “I think you’re aware I didn’t come out here with you for a heart-to-heart. Stop trying to make this personal. We’re not friends.”

Maybe that’s the problem. Reed banished the unbidden thought as quickly as it appeared. This desire to peel back her layers, to figure out what made her run like the Energizer Bunny, unnerved and confused him. “You came out here with me knowing how badly I want to be inside you. There’s nothing more personal than that.” Jesus. Since when?

She came to a stop, studied him. Her mask slipped just a little and he felt an answering tug in his chest. “Fine. Tell me how you got that horrible scar on your back and I’ll tell you why Serena was the perfect one. The one who never let my parents down. The one who was supposed to take over the business when Daddy retired. The one who died while I was off at college planning Hawaiian-themed dances and ice cream socials.”

Julie’s mouth snapped shut when she finished, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d revealed. When she turned and stomped off ahead of him, Reed quickly followed. Part of him wished for all the world he hadn’t pushed her. The other part, the greedy half, felt satisfaction over being privy to this hidden part of her. She didn’t put on her Princess of Hospitality act around him, didn’t hide her true self. Later, he’d try to figure out why, but right now all he could think of was taking the haunted expression off of her face. Unfortunately, in order to do that, he would have to reveal a part of himself to make them even.

“Bar fight.”

“Pardon?”

“The scar. I got knifed in a bar fight when I was nineteen.” She stopped and turned, meeting his eyes hesitantly. He hadn’t told anyone about the fight in a long time and suddenly the words wouldn’t come quite so easy. “I, uh…had started a fight in the bar over God knows what. It spilled out into the alley. Next thing I knew there were five of them.” He shrugged. “They were young and stupid like me. Didn’t realize what they were doing…so they left me there bleeding and ran off.”