23. Hailey #2
That's the thing about Reed. He's more than drop-dead gorgeous—he's got this soft, golden-retriever soul.
Big, warm, loyal. Always helping people.
I've seen him pitch in to help out the farmhands, fixing cars, cleaning and repairing tools, giving them rides.
He's the guy everyone calls when something breaks or goes wrong. The guy who shows up.
And yet… and yet there's his other side. His playboy persona. The rumors. The whispers. The possibility that he's been with half the town—married women included. I don't know what to believe, and that's what ties me in knots.
The more I learn, the harder it is to sort out what's real—and what I want to be true. My feelings are a mess, tangled up in curiosity, attraction, and a big old dose of confusion.
Every new facet I discover makes it harder to stay away. I shouldn't feel this way. I already promised myself—and Dean—that I'd keep my distance. My feelings toward all three men are too tangled, too dangerous, too confusing.
Not to mention the fact that Reed might hate me now. He knows about Lennon and me. I figured it would change things—make things weird—but it hasn't. Not outwardly. He's still kind. Still friendly. Still Reed.
Perhaps, by some miracle, he doesn't hate me. But even if that's true, it doesn't give me the right to keep drooling over him. I need to accept his kindness, find a way to repay it, and move on.
Dean turns into the driveway, and Reed catches sight of us. He cranes his neck to follow our path and gives a friendly wave. I wave back, trying to keep my expression neutral—even though my stomach's doing somersaults.
Why is he still being so nice to me?
That question clings to me as the afternoon unfolds.
Even at dinner, while Grace sits in my lap and insists I help feed her, I keep catching Reed's gaze flickering my way.
And Lennon's too. There's something going on between them—not words exactly, but looks.
A kind of silent argument playing out in stolen glances and tight expressions.
I'm not the only one who notices.
"What the hell is wrong with you two?" Dean asks, narrowing his eyes at them across the table.
"Nothing," they say at the same time, then shoot each other a loaded look.
Reed's is amused. Lennon's is anything but.
Later that night, when Lennon comes by to reapply ointment to my hand, the tension's still there—thick, unspoken, heavy between us.
We don't mention it. We don't mention anything.
But I can feel the pull between us, the heat that hasn't gone anywhere since the night before.
We're pretending not to look at each other, but the air crackles anyway.
Then there's a knock at the door.
"Come in," I call, assuming it's Dean, or Grace, needing something.
The door opens, and it's Reed. That easy grin is on his face, like this is just another casual visit—except the air shifts the moment he steps inside.
"Thought you might be here," he says, cheerful as ever.
Beside me, Lennon stiffens. I feel it—the sudden tension in his muscles, the subtle shift in his posture. He's wary. On guard.
Reed doesn't skip a beat. "Actually, it's good you're both here. There's something we wanted to run by you, Hailey."
"What is it?" I ask, a flicker of nervousness curling in my gut.
"Reed…" Lennon warns, his voice low and tight.
But Reed barrels ahead. "A quick question first. Back when you turned me down—said it was because you liked Dean—was that really the reason?"
I blink. "What do you mean?"
He takes a step closer. "I mean, did you turn me down because you only liked Dean? Or because you also liked him… and me… and Lennon?"
My breath catches. I freeze, wide-eyed.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I mumble.
He gives me a skeptical look. "Come on, Hailey. Be honest."
His voice drops as he steps in again, closing the space between us. I glance at Lennon, looking for help, but Reed tips my chin gently, pulling my gaze back to him.
"Don't look at him. Look at me." His fingers are warm, steady. "I can see it in your eyes. You want me. You want us . All three of us. But you don't think you're allowed to want that—and it's eating you alive, isn't it?"
"I… I don't…" I shut my eyes, as if that might quiet the heat rising inside me. I can feel my heart pounding, the blood thumping in my chest. I feel my cheeks burning red in embarrassment.
Reed chuckles—low and devastating. "I knew it."
Then his mouth is near my ear. "Today's your lucky day, angel. Because we all want you too. And lucky for you—we're very good at sharing."
My eyes fly open in shock.
"Okay, not Lennon," he adds, glancing sideways. "But I'm sure he'll learn from the master. He needs to get over that dumb sense of duty and admit he's a human being who deserves to move on."
Then Reed's gaze returns to mine—wicked, confident. "As for Dean and me? We've shared a woman before. And like I say, we're damn good at it. So if two works… why not three?"
My thoughts spiral. My body goes hot and light all at once. Shared. Reed and Dean. Their hands. Their mouths. The heat. The weight. One of them kissing me while the other?—
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block the flood of images crashing through me.
"Reed…" Lennon's voice is strained. "Maybe back off a little."
But Reed ignores him. "Tell me you don't want it, Hailey. Say the word, and I'll leave you alone."
He waits.
I should say no. I know I should.
Instead, I reach up to touch his face.
He doesn't need any further invitation. His mouth claims mine in a deep, drugging kiss. I hear Lennon's protesting breath—then a groan. I know the hand that slides into my panties is his.