Capturing Peace
Page 10

 Molly McAdams

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“So you do know my name?” I asked, teasing her.
“Why are you here?”
I looked around, and back on the trail I’d come from. “This trail goes right past my backyard. Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at work or something?”
Her eyes darted back to the playground, and she licked her lips like she was nervous. “My uh—­my office shuts down every first and third Friday of the month.”
“Sounds like an awesome job.”
“Perks of working for a local company, I guess.” Her eyes went back to the playground for a second. “I should probably go.”
Not looking away from her, I nodded my head in the direction of the play equipment. “Which one is your son?”
Reagan’s entire body froze, and the hand that had been brushing back her long hair stopped mid-­action. “Who told you I have a son?” her voice was now careful and defensive.
“Your brother. Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Keegan,” she grumbled, but her body relaxed. “It’s fine, I just didn’t know you knew. I should have figured since you used to be roommates . . . I just—­I don’t—­”
“You don’t let a lot of ­people into your son’s life, I know. I don’t blame you.”
Her eyes had hardened at first, but widened with my last statement. “I don’t know whether to be pissed that you know all this about me, or curious as to why you don’t blame me.”
Grabbing the shirt from where it’d been hanging at my side, I ran it over my face and chest, and noticed her eyes followed the path. They lingered on the tattoos on my chest before slowly drifting over my arms. But her face gave nothing away; for all I knew, they could disgust her.
“In all fairness to your brother,” I started, and her eyes snapped back up to mine, “he didn’t tell me anything about you or your son until the day I got out. All I’d known was he was always going back home to be with the two of you. I finally asked him.”
“And what all did he tell you?” The defensive tone was back, and I fought a smile. Reagan was cute when she got all protective.
“Not much, but enough for me to admire you and your strength.”
From the way her head jerked slightly back and her eyelids blinked rapidly, she hadn’t been expecting that answer. After watching me for a few seconds, she crossed her arms over her chest, and leveled me with a glare. “Did Keegan set you up to this? Did he tell you I’d be here today? Because as I’m sure you heard last weekend, I’m not interested in . . . well, anything.”
“Look, I know you were burned, so you’re cautious now; but not everyone has a hidden agenda.”
“I’ve never seen you before in my life, and then I see you three times within a week? Keegan tried to get me to come out and have a beer with you. He admitted he was trying to set me up with you. Then out of nowhere, you’re right behind me in Starbucks, I see you two days later at lunch, and not even a week later you’re at the park that I spend a lot of Fridays at with Parker? Excuse me for not believing you.”
“Wow, really?” I laughed and rubbed at my jaw. “Okay, yeah, I get it. But I’d also been in the army for the last six years and had just gotten out when I ran into you. I have a studio not even five minutes from that Starbucks and have been going there for years. Your brother is one of my best friends, and he owed me lunch for losing a game, as I told you. I just woke up and decided to run on the same path I’ve been using every day since I moved into my place early this week, and this is where it led me. Granted, I hadn’t been this far yet, but I can assure you, Duchess, I didn’t come this far for you. I haven’t talked to Hudson in a ­couple days . . . and before your crazy mind starts coming up with other shit, I don’t know where the f**k you live.”
Her hazel eyes narrowed and she took a step closer. “Did I ask if you knew?”
“You sure as shit were getting there with all the other bullshit you’re accusing me of.”
“Do you realize you’re standing on a playground, surrounded by little kids, and you keep cussing?”
“Do you realize your holier-­than-­thou attitude to hide what you’re really thinking and feeling makes you look like a bitch?”
Her eyebrows shot up, and her mouth opened with a soft huff.
“I know you’re careful, I told you, I get it. But nothing during the times I’ve seen you has made you come across as someone who’s independent and wanting to keep her life private. With the shit you’re spouting off, swear to God I would think you’re the most vain person I’ve ever met if I didn’t know any better. The world doesn’t revolve around you, and ­people don’t make it their mission in life to make yours a living hell.”
“I never said they did,” she gritted out.
“Really? I complimented you, and you immediately took it as something your brother must have set up. Because, heaven forbid, someone compliments you, and actually means it.”
“After everything else you just said about me, do you really think I would trust any compliment from you?”
Closing the distance between us, I bent my head so I was whispering in her ear. “That’s exactly my point. I compliment you, and you think it’s bullshit. I tell you that this mask you’re wearing makes you come off as someone I’m sure you’re not, and say that if I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re vain; and you automatically come to the conclusion that’s what I really think about you. You hear what you want to hear because it helps you keep up your guard.”