by Ferraro, W
Instead, while she sat and waited, he was out on the town with a gorgeous woman who he was probably filling his days and nights with.
How foolish could you be, Colby? Once again, you are reminded of just how out of his league you really are . . . nothing but a willing body.
Thankfully, her friends didn’t notice anything amiss. In fact, Bree jumped right into the conversation. “Oh, that. I saw it, and I think you guys are getting all gossipy for nothing.”
“Oh, come on, it’s Reed! Photographed! With a woman!” Delaney said as if she had photographic evidence of the Lochness Monster
“So?”
This time, Molly put her finger on the picture to explain. “So it seems like a rather intimate picture. Maybe she is the one.”
Colby felt tears threaten to fall.
“I don’t buy it,” Bree answered casually, before taking a sip of her beer.
“Why not?” Delaney asked.
Yeah, why not, Colby silently wondered, finding hope in Bree’s conviction.
“He enjoys his privacy too much.”
“Exactly. Which is why this picture could be so telling!” Molly responded triumphantly.
Bree took her shot, lightly placed the shot glass on the table with the growing number of others, and looked at her two sisters-in-law. “You two sound just like Mom. Do you really think if Reed found the one,” using her fingers to quote, “that he would let a photograph speak for him rather than tell us himself?” Bree pushed the newspaper clipping back toward Molly, who stuffed it in her bag unceremoniously.
Bree continued. “Reed has always been secretive. You would think you two and my mother would know that by now. I honestly don’t think he will ever settle down, or at least not in the way my mother hopes he will. He enjoys his privacy too much.”
Colby felt her heart crumble.
“I don’t think there is anything wrong with us wanting him to be happy,” Molly added.
“That’s the thing, though. Just because he isn’t bringing a girl home every Sunday for dinner doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anyone special. It could just mean that he chooses to keep that part of his life to himself.”
Could Bree know?
“But why would he do such a thing? Are secrets really supposed to be kept away from family like that?” Delaney added.
“You’d be surprised what kind of things can be kept away from family,” Bree offered up before turning her head away from the table.
Suddenly, all the shots and beers threatened to resurface. Colby excused herself from the table and pushed her way through the crowd toward the restroom.
Once inside, she gave a silent thank you that the ladies’ room was unoccupied. She leaned against the wall as she took a couple of deep breaths, exhaling through her mouth. Doing this activity six or seven times had her stomach’s contents settling but left Colby with a heavy head and an equally heavy heart.
Was Bree’s scrutiny of Reed true? Was he truly not interested in anything serious? Or serious enough to worthy it to intertwine with his personal life? Was Colby just one of many who counted the minutes until he appeared and then waited with bated breath until the next time?
Pulling herself together the best she could, she opened the door and headed back to the table. Praying the conversation about Reed was over, she walked by the bar and caught the bartender looking at her again.
He does have a beautiful smile. But not as handsome as Reed’s . . . oh, shut up, Colby!
Colby reached the table and found that her silent prayer had been answered. The sisters were discussing Delaney’s pregnancy.
“I just can’t help it. All I want are sweets. If it’s chocolate, can be doused in chocolate, or contains chocolate, I want it,” Delaney said, pulling some chocolate kisses from her bag.
Declining the offered candy, Colby laughed with the others.
“Speaking of sweet . . . Colby, tell us about what is going on with you and Dustin?” Molly asked, with a knowing look.
This had Bree and Delaney’s avid attention.
“Oh . . . nothing. We are just friends.”
“Nothing my foot, sweetie,” Molly answered before conspiring with the other two. “You should see the way he looks at her. He has always liked Greg’s cooking, but Dustin may need to go up a size in uniform pants if he keeps hanging around the restaurant.”
The three women laughed as they took in Colby’s growing red face.
“So first, the bartender and now, Dustin . . . come on, Colby, spill. Who’s getting your attention,” Bree pressed, nudging Colby with her elbow.
Delaney and Molly both turned to the bartender who was looking in Colby’s direction.
“Dammit! I really am going to have to start giving you nights off because soon they will all be filled with dates,” Molly chided kiddingly.
“So handcuffs are a turn-on, huh,” Bree asked sassily.
“Trust me, Colby, these Clearwater Falls’ cops are fantastic,” Delaney added to a round of laughs.
The three other women finally showed Colby’s embarrassment some mercy as they changed the subject once again.
Colby pushed the info about Reed aside and decided to enjoy the rest of the evening with her new friends.
With a jab here or an innuendo there, the girls brought Dustin up more than once, and Colby decided that if Reed could fill his time with someone else, so could she.
Deciding that tomorrow she would stop putting Dustin off, Colby knew she would either have to accept Reed’s terms like she did in Lancaster or, for the first time, speak up to him and let the chips fall where they may.
All she knew was that with the continuing buzz of alcohol in her system and the huge amount of knowledge floating around in her brain, starting tomorrow, Colby was no longer going to be indecisive.
After all, you could only be unsure if you truly didn’t know what you wanted.
With darkness covering the wall of windows and the only light from his desk lamp, Reed stared at the newspaper article on his desk for the umpteenth time. Massaging his temples to try to get ahead of a migraine that was forming, he knew it was pointless, but he didn’t stop. Among many things to cause him strife, the number of phone calls requesting appearances and interviews that had come through his office phones in the last seventy-two hours was enough to drive him insane. They had been so numerous and constant, he had no choice but to call Lacey and have her arrange another location for his campaign headquarters. Reed had to hand it to Lacey; she might be vicious, but she was efficient. Within sixty minutes of his phone call to her, the office phones rang for district business only, and he was now the proud owner of a leased space two blocks away.
He continued to stare at the photographs of him attending the dinner a few days ago, and the inset photo set his teeth on edge. When he had arrived in Boston for the dinner, he expected it to be just your run-of-the-mill fundraiser with a bunch of lousy, boring speeches and an over-dried chicken; what awaited him was not anything he had expected. The group of press members waiting rivaled that of a small screen premiere. Honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he saw the paparazzi, but to see such a small army of photographers and journalists, he knew instantly this was not an average political dinner. Before any of the cameras aimed at him, he watched as Lacey appeared dressed to kill and dripping with jewels. She slid her arm through his and led him straight up the red carpet. Cameras flashed and questions flew, but before he could ignore any of them, Lacey spoke in a strong, clear voice giving his name and the seat he sought. By the time he made his way inside away from the flashbulbs, Reed’s ears were ringing. And he knew this was just the beginning. As they maneuvered their way through the crowd, he couldn’t help but take in some of the attendees. Elite and an important number of political A-listers intertwined with local politicians and lucky voters who had just the right amount of zeroes in their bank accounts. It was a who’s who of political powerhouses and campaign contributors with very deep pockets. Before the first course was even serve
d, Reed had shaken more hands than he could count and he gained a pile of personal checks that were written and safely placed in his pocket to help start his campaign fund. By the end of the evening, he had a handful of favors he could call on and a whole hell of a lot of supporters.
However, for him to swallow his pride and say Lacey was right to make him attend was lost in his throat. The fact that almost every newspaper in New England, multiple online news sources, and even a fair few nationwide news spots painted him as the long-sought-after bachelor who might no longer be available was the current catalyst for his most recent migraine.
Defending his bachelor status to his mother for what had to be the hundredth time in the context of their ten-minute phone conversation was not helping his overall mood.
Bianca Dennison was many things—wife, mother, friend, domestic goddess, school committee member, and retired teacher—but of all these integrity-filled duties, one wasn’t so positive. She was a menacing gossip addict when it came to her children’s love lives.
The family matriarch would bring hell and high water to anyone who dared to inquire about her children’s personal lives, but since she gave birth to them, she thought she had a right to such inside information. God forbid, that woman thinks she has her incisors on a juicy bone because she was worse than any reporter; she would not rest until she got a confession or a full detailed explanation as to why her information didn’t pan out.
She was insistent on knowing all about Reed’s “special” friend and insisted that he invite her to dinner the following week for the family to meet.
Over his dead body!
Regardless of the fact that his and Lacey’s relationship was nothing but business, he did not feel the need to prance any woman around in front of his family. Not because he was ashamed of anyone he spent time with but because no one needed to know someone on such a level when he did not intend to keep anyone in that position long-term.
However, Bianca thought that logic was both sad and ridiculous.
Reed continued to massage his throbbing head, and this was the position Lacey found him in when she bypassed Garrett and entered Reed’s office.
Reed didn’t even look up from his hunched over position.
“We need to finalize your schedule for the next several weeks. I’ve been fielding calls all morning for which morning shows you will do, not to mention a prime time spot on FOX News Sunday Politics Edition,” Lacey stated, as she peeled off her long cashmere coat and took a seat in the chair across from Reed’s desk. Either uncaring for his current mood or unnoticing, she went on. “But then it dawned on me that we never actually made your official run speech. I spoke with Conrad, and he agreed to bring you to Concord and have you do it on the steps of the state house. He will be there to show his support, as will Tom. So we are scheduling this for Wednesday. It will give us plenty of time to get prime spots for the weekend news and keep your name circulating.”
Sure, I think that sounds like a great idea, and as a matter of fact, it does work with my schedule. Thanks for asking.
Reed gave up on his ineffective massage and looked at the overbearing woman across from him.
“I suppose the only response you will accept from me is that sounds great, right?”
Reed watched as her face spread into what seemed like a sincere smile that had her blue eyes pulling upward at the corners. “Now, you are finally catching on, Mr. Dennison. Was that so hard?”
Quickly averting her eyes from his, she looked down at her mobile phone and began responding via text to someone.
Better say it now before it’s too far gone to rectify.
“We have a problem that we need to iron out right now.”
Not bothering to look up from her phone, Lacey asked, “Oh, and what is that?”
Pushing the newspaper toward her side of the desk and leaning back in his chair, Reed articulated his concern. “The fact that this and every other news outlet is making us out to be the new glamor couple for intrastate politics.”
Still with her nose to her iPhone, she continued to type away causing Reed’s temper to flare.
Tampering down on his quickly fraying control, he counted to ten before he fumed loudly, “I’m serious, Lacey. I will not be painted as the captured prize.”
Whether it was his temper or his choice of words, Lacey finally looked up from her phone with a look of annoyance on her own face. “Of course, not. Trust me; you are far from my idea of a prize. Now that bit was just to get the tongues wagging. No, I intend to exploit your bachelor lifestyle in every sense for this campaign. It will guarantee every registered female voter from eighteen to sixty will want Reed Dennison standing up for them in this state’s Senate. Don’t you worry; we will be rectifying that very soon. It is the whole angle for your campaign. I told you your pretty face was going to gain you voters. Your lack of marital status will gain you the rest.”
Before he could question her further, her mobile rang, and she was out of the chair and headed out the door as quickly as she had entered.
Reed opened his top right-hand side desk drawer and started moving its contents around until his fingers grasped the bottle of aspirin. Removing two white pills from the bottle, he rolled his chair over to where the small refrigerator sat, and he took a bottle of water from inside. He washed the pills down with the cold water and decided he had had enough for today.
Retrieving his briefcase from where he kept it next to his desk, he tucked in the handful of files he would need to review tonight, powered down his computer, put his coat on, and exited his office.
When he was on the road heading toward home, he remembered he was due at the twins’ place tonight for the game. Generally, if he had a headache like this, he would call, cancel, and just watch the game at home. But then, he remembered it had been a few days since he was with Colby, and suddenly, the desire to put up with a throbbing head for a little while longer could be dealt with as long as another throbbing part of his anatomy could be treated as well.
After all, wasn’t the old adage that there was no better cure for a headache than incredible sex?
By the time Reed had gotten home, changed, and arrived at the fabric mill, he had his plan completely laid out. He would stay at his brothers’ place long enough to watch the game until he estimated how long it would take Colby to get home from work. Then with a quick knock, he predicted it would take less than ninety seconds to rid both of them of all their clothes and spend the next several hours healing all his ailments.
Unfortunately, the eager anticipation he felt with the plan in motion was unable to rid himself of the restlessness he felt over the fact that she would be walking home. What could he do, though? How would he play off a spontaneous need to run somewhere at that exact moment and just happen to pick her up along the way? Uncomfortable with her lack of transportation, he wondered if he could rectify it, but he was coming up with zilch. He would just have to come up with a reason to make sure Gage had his deputies patrolling at those hours in that neighborhood.
Suddenly unfamiliar with the level his concern, he chalked it up to being raised a gentleman. Along with the knowledge of crime and sickness some in the public possess, he wouldn’t be a man or a district attorney if his natural concern for such a young woman walking to and from work every day didn’t raise some flags with him.
Even though it was Clearwater Falls, it still wasn’t like her place in Lancaster literally around the corner from her place of employment. This, on the other hand, was a good six blocks that she walked alone steadily at the same time day after day.
Otherwise known as a stalker’s dream.
He wondered how he could go about getting Molly to change up her schedule every week.
Jesus, man, you really are due for a good fuck. Your worries are starting to sound like a father would.
God knows he didn’t think of Colby in any way a father would.
By the time he walked up the flights of stairs and made it to the loft, his conce
rn had formed a moderate case of anxiety in his usual calm and collective appearance.
When Gage and Hunter asked him if he was all right, given that he looked upset, he found himself snapping his response.
Not a newcomer to his brothers’ lines of thinking, he knew he might as well wear a sign on his chest that said, “Sure, I am keeping something from you; something I have no intention of you knowing.”
Dodging and averting all the direct and indirect question that were sent his way over the next couple of hours, including interpretations of the newspaper photograph’s implied meanings, to say Reed was a bit randy and well on his way to completely pissed off come nine o’clock was an understatement.
Reminding himself he needed just wait twenty minutes more, he appeased his worry with thoughts of all the things he wanted to do with and to Colby tonight.
He had full intention to take her hard and fast, then slow and steady. Repeating the routine as many times as he could to ensure they were both completely spent.
Those last twenty minutes passed agonizingly slow as the Bruins were skating tonight, and Reed practically leaped from his seat. Between his anticipation and need to rid himself of the implied intention of those photographs, he excused himself from his brothers’ company and headed out.
He walked the short distance from their door to hers as his body reacted to his eagerness to see Colby. However, all preparations for tonight’s events came to a grinding halt.
Only a short distance away, the elevator chimed, and the carrying sound of laughter filled the hallway. Reed could place that whimsical, feminine laugh anywhere; no one laughed like Colby did. Soon the fencing pulled back, and she stepped out dressed head to toe in a large winter coat with hat, scarf, gloves, and boots to match. Following quickly behind her as if personal space was something that didn’t exist was Dustin, in full winter uniform.
Whatever their conversation was about, he continued because she laughed again, placing a hand on his large forearm that was readily available to her. She made her way to her front door before she even noticed Reed’s presence mere steps away.
