Reaper's Stand(31)

“Wow, so sorry that my family obligations are getting in your way,” I snapped. “But I actually give a damn about Jessica. She’s my responsibility. That doesn’t just go away because she turned eighteen.”

“I can’t believe we’re still talking about Jess,” he muttered.

Then he hung up on me.

What the hell?

Nate hadn’t been himself the past two days, not even a little bit. He’d always been so concerned and supportive of me, even over the smallest things … and he’d never pressured me for sex. But now that I needed him, he’d checked out. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

You sure you really know him?

Reese’s nasty little insinuations burrowed through my thoughts. I shouldn’t leap to judgments, though, not while I was this upset—my perspective was all messed up. I wasn’t thinking straight.

Still, I’d expected a little more sympathy from Nate. Isn’t that what boyfriends do?

I sucked down another mouthful of wine, contemplating my unpleasant conversation with Amber. Apparently Jessica had flown down there yesterday, although it hadn’t occurred to either of them that this was information I might like to have. I had no clue where the money for the plane ticket had come from, either.

Selfish, both of them. And Nate was selfish, too … although maybe he was right in his own way. For better or worse, Jessica was an adult and she’d made her decision. I should probably just accept it and let it go, because all this stress and worry wasn’t accomplishing jack shit anyway.

At least the wine was still on my side.

An hour later I’d finished the bottle and things were looking up. For example, with Jess gone, I wouldn’t be stuck at home every weekend. I could go places, do things … Sleep with Nate any time I wanted.

Assuming I still wanted to sleep with him.

But the more I thought about it, the less interested I was in following up on that. Sure, it wasn’t like we were engaged or anything, but what’s the point of having a boyfriend if he blows you off the first time you need him?

On the other hand, finally getting laid would be nice …

I’d completely forgotten about Reese until the doorbell rang just after seven that evening. By that point I was halfway through a second bottle of wine, which was half a bottle firmly over my limit. I opened the door to find him standing on my porch with a bag of Chinese in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other. I ran my eyes up and down his strong form, deciding he looked fantastic.

I wanted to bite him.

Yeah, definitely over my limit on the vino—I’d had more to drink in this one weekend than the past two months combined. Too bad I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Biting Reese Hayes wouldn’t be a problem if you ditched the boyfriend, my brain whispered insidiously. I decided my brain was right. If Nate gave a shit about being in a relationship with me, he wouldn’t have been such a dick.

Oooh, and now I was cussing in my head. Fun!

“C’mon in,” I told Reese, suddenly starving. That bag of little white cartons smelled fantastic and I couldn’t wait to rip into them. His eyes widened.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” he murmured. I held up my wine bottle for him to see.

“I decided I needed a distraction,” I told him bluntly. “I called my cousin Amber. She’s a bitch and I hate her … Also Jessica is with her. She’s fine, perfectly safe. Flew down there yesterday and they didn’t bother to tell me. I’m washing my hands of both of them.”

I tried to rub my hands together like I was washing them and dropped my bottle in the process. Reese lunged, catching it midair. The motion set me off balance and I fell on my ass, laughing. He stared at me, a slow grin crawling across his face.

“You’re drunk,” he said.

“No shit,” I told him. “Feels great, too.”

“Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“I’m the boss,” I informed him proudly. “I make my own schedule.”

“I see,” he murmured, then reached down to catch my hand, pulling me to my feet. I lurched into him, rubbing my face against the hard muscles of his chest.

“You smell really good,” I told him. “Reeallly good.”

“You got a coffeepot?”

I blinked up at him, running my hands up and over his shoulders. They were nice and hard, like silk stretched over … something hard. I giggled because I couldn’t think of the right word.


“Coffeepot?” he asked again.

“Why?”

“Time to sober up, I think. What the hell is that smell?”

I beamed at him, feeling pleased with myself.

“The self-cleaning cycle on the oven. I like to clean when I get frustrated, and there’s nothing quite like a sparkly oven. You just turn it up to a million degrees, bake it, and then vacuum it out. Gas does all the hard work for you. Very cathartic.”

“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, running a finger down my cheek. “Let’s get some coffee in you and eat. No more wine.”

I pouted, because wine was my favorite. Then I forgot to pout because he smelled all yummy, and I wanted to see if he tasted as good as he smelled.

Now if I could just catch his lip and find out …

REESE