26-VINCENT
With paperwork in hand, I exit the building. I held a little bit of embarrassment when my eyes landed on Reagan’s car. Approaching, she stepped out, and the cab light exposed a passenger.
“Hey.” She threw her arms over my neck, and I pulled her into a short kiss.
“Who’s in the car?” I look past her again.
“My brother, Miles.” She drops back down.
“Oh, I was worried you were bringing someone else you wanted me to beat up.”
I followed her to the car. “No, I got this one.”
I slip into the back seat. Her brother’s eyes are on me until the light cuts out. “He’s cute.” His comment is directed towards Reagan as if I’m behind glass. “We’re stopping to get food, right?”
“Are you hungry, Vincent?”
I listened to my stomach growl while waiting for the whole process to be over. “I actually am.”
“It’s two AM. Our options are tacos or breakfast.”
“I could kill for some French toast.” Miles didn’t let me answer. I didn’t want to anyway.
“Is that okay with you?” Her eyes flicked up to the rear-view mirror.
“Yeah. I’m not picky.” I noticed the couple of bags next to me. A duffle bag stuffed tight, a large open bag with clunky items inside, and a pillow from her bed. Reagan wasn’t going home tonight. And since it was already in her mind, it was now in mine. I wanted her to come home with me.
Miles’ head whipped over his shoulder. “Did Tate get out?”
“I’m not sure. He was being problematic during the booking process. It got quiet not long after. I assume they’re making him stay until sober.”
“This is my first impression of you, and I’m obsessed.” Miles awkwardly bit his lip and dropped his gaze. I wondered if he meant to come off as flirty or not. It didn’t matter. I was only interested in Reagan.
She steered the car into a parking lot, practically empty except for the employee’s vehicles. I try to exit faster than Reagan to get her door for her. Tate’s words filled my mind—She gets scared and clings to the first guy who opens a door for her. Then opens her legs.
The thought of how quickly she was in the cabin, then in the bed of my truck. Was I really complaining about her being attracted to me? Or was it the way he made me feel like I was filling a space again?
“Thank you.” The corner of her mouth tugged upward, and I pushed the door closed. She was in those tight jeans again. This time with a hoodie.
Another door, the same thought. I really didn’t believe it, did I? It was going to be an awkward question for later, not while her brother was with us.
Reagan gives the hostess our headcount, and we follow her to a table in the middle of the empty dining area.
I tuck Reagan under my arm as I sit next to her. Yes, for protection—but also because I like her and the booths are a little narrow.
“So,” Miles slides into the seat across from us, “What’s your sign? And if you say Pisces, Mother will hate you, and I’m leaving.”
“No. I’m a Libra.”
“Oh.” Miles’ eyebrows rose, surprised to find that I knew some astrology. “That's not too bad. Well, I’m excited to see your mugshot. It will probably be pretty hot.”
“Miles—” Reagan warned. But I didn’t mind. It’s my first time being booked. Might as well own it.
“What? You could totally update his contact photo to it,” Miles goes on. “But don’t change his name.”
“Miles!” She squirms under me, and I get curious.
“What’s my name on your phone?” My lip tugged.
“Nothing. My brother is just being stupid.” Reagan jerks beside me. Something thuds under the table.
“Ow!” he snaps at her, rubbing his shin.
I can’t see what face she’s making back, but I know the situation. I’ve had the same silent sibling conversations a thousand times.
The waitress stopped by, and I ordered a coffee. I know it’ll taste like dirt and rusty nails, but I need caffeine if I’m making it home.
The waitress leaves, and Miles immediately leans his elbows onto the table. “Vincent, on a scale from one to ten, how much trauma are you carrying?”
Reagan exhaled. “You don’t have to answer that.”
My thumb stroked her shoulder, and I raised it back over her head, finding my other hand to ball together on the table.
“I’d say five. Nothing special. My dad died young and unexpectedly.
” Reagan already knew that, but I was about to drop something she didn’t.
“I had an ex-girlfriend who left me when I was thirty without a word. That put me in a dark place. But it’s all in the past.”
Reagan’s eyes were on me. The warmth from her hand splayed over my leg as she acknowledged me. I dropped my hand down to hers, and our fingers interlaced right in my lap.
Miles watches this with a satisfied little grin. “Cute. Okay—next question—what are your intentions with Reagan?”
“I like her,” I confessed without hesitation. “I just want to make her happy.”
Her fingers tighten between mine.
Miles wriggles in his seat like he’s watching a season finale. “Are you going to, like… wait around for Tate to sign the papers? Or… what’s the plan?”
“I fought the guy tonight,” I shrug. “Honestly? I want a rematch. He was too drunk to make it any fun.”
“Well, you’ve got to do something my mother and I have wanted to do,” Miles smirked. He shot a glance at Reagan, one of approval. He didn’t have to say anything. He was quite animated and easy to read.
A quiet moment passed. “So, where are you going?” I look to Reagan.
“My mom’s.”
“No.” I shake my head. “That’s too easy for Tate. You’re coming with me.”
“Vincent, no. I don’t want to be a bother.” Her brow pinched together.
“You’re not. It’d be nice to have something as pretty as a wildflower around the ranch for a few days.”
Miles scoffs, “Egg, go!”
“It’s going to be a few days until I can get a restraining order in place,” she murmurs.
I drop her hand and slip my arm behind her again, pulling her closer. “Stay a whole week if you want. You might actually enjoy it.”
She looks up at me, eyes bright and close. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I say, and mean it, “I am.”
“Do you have any weird hobbies?” Miles cut in, “Taxidermy? Ghost hunting? Wrestling shirtless with your friends?”
Vincent smirks. “No, just chasing women through the woods. But here’s mine for you—If your sister and I get serious, how early is too early to expect you to bring wine and gossip on our porch?”
Miles blinks, and Reagan bites her lip to hide a smile.
“Oh, my god. I—well—I mean—” He fans himself. “Reagan, marry him.”
Reagan jabs an elbow into my side, and all I can do is grin.
“Seriously,” Miles continues, “Her ex didn’t even kneel when he proposed because there were ants on the ground.”
With the sudden feeling of us teaming up on her, all she could do was melt deeper into my side.
?
“Thank you for coming with me to the ranch. I don’t know how I would feel if Tate came back and something happened to you.” Reagan sat between her things and me.
We would be getting back to the house after four, and I’d have an hour, maybe two, before I needed to get up. With her next to me in my bed, I wasn’t sure if I could get any sleep.
“No, Vincent. Thank you for offering, and please let me know if I overstay my welcome. I don’t want to—”
I pull her tighter into me. “Stop it. You want to move in? Because you could.” Her hand dropped to my leg, a little close to my zipper, igniting all the nerves in the area. “Do you want to share my bed or would a guest room be more comfortable?”
She lets out a little laugh. “We’ve already shared a bed. It’s fine.”
“Good, because the guest room is in my grandparents’ house.”
“I’ll be fine. It actually would be the best option.”
We passed a city mileage sign stating we were halfway there, and I cleared my throat. “So, if things were simple—how would you do things differently between us?”
I feel her shift next to me, uncertain if I had made her uncomfortable. “I’d jump in head first, not questioning a thing.” Slips low from her mouth.
I glance down at her under my arm, and she sits facing forward, watching the road with me. “What are we doing, Reagan? Is this for fun or what? Because I’m one hundred percent in this.”
“I like you, Vincent. I just worry I have too much baggage. Too many problems that might scare you away.”
I didn’t want Reagan to think I couldn’t handle her ex. So, what else was there? “Good thing I'm strong; I’ll help you carry it. But what other problems?”
“My lease will be up in six weeks. I’ve been looking for a place, but nothing seems to fit.
I could always stay with my mom and Miles.
And then there’s my divorce. I’m not sure how long Tate is going to drag this on.
He’s adamant that we’re supposed to be together.
He refuses to sign the papers. Sooner or later, the court will approve it.
I just wish I could sever the tie holding me back. ”
“I’ve got time. I’m not going anywhere, not for the next eight months anyway.”
Her body melts into me a little bit more. I can’t help but kiss the top of her head. The way she makes me feel now is enough to fight Tate every weekend. I’d even give him a free swing because if he fucks like he fights, no wonder she was done with him.
“Where would I even fit in your day-to-day life?”
“My work is flexible. Plus, you could always lend a hand or keep me company. I’m usually done by six or seven and free the rest of the night.”
“Would it be wrong to say I feel like I’m yours, even though I’m legally bound to another man?”
My gut twisted, and I’m not sure at which part. “No, Wildflower,” I murmur. “I want you to be mine because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Really?”
“Would I have gotten your phone number tattooed on me if I didn’t?”
“I’m not sure. You did chase me through the woods to meet me.”
“I’d chase you anywhere.” And I would. Her hand fans out, and in the second, I cross the dotted line on the road. A light question entered my mind. “Did I hear your brother right when he called you Egg?”
Her fingertips press into my tender thigh meat, unaware of what she is even doing. “Unfortunately. Old nicknames never die,” She sighs. “Is there anything else in your past or with your ex that might not make me feel like I’m not the only fucked up one here?”
Shit, I contemplate for a moment whether to tell her or not.
I should, but I don’t want to remind myself that it happened.
“Yeah.” I stroke my thumb over her shoulder.
“She stopped by a few days ago. She wanted to see if it would still work between us. I told her no. She then dropped the bomb that she was the one who spilled my identity across social media. I asked her to leave after that.”
“Oh. So you still see her frequently?”
“No. I hadn’t seen her since she walked out after I drunkenly proposed. It was never with a ring or official, but it’s been four years. I don’t want you to worry about her. There’s nothing there.”
“Well, I could have at least had to deal with your ex if you had to deal with mine.”
“Do you want to fight her? I could probably get her back to the ranch one last time.”
“No thank you. Will your family like me?”
“Yes. The only person who will have an opinion is my uncle, Mark. He will probably see you as a distraction at first, then see your good qualities.”
“Oh, yeah? What are my good qualities?”
“You’re kind, smart, friendly, and you make damn good cookies.”
“I’ll have to make a batch while I am there.”
“I won’t say no.”