Profited (Bound Together #2)

by Lacey Black

  When I hear nothing but quiet for several minutes, I slowly slip out of Reid’s bed and all but run to the bathroom. Inside, I find Reid had set my overnight bag down on the counter. Digging out my toothbrush, I quickly brush my teeth. The fixtures and counter tops are as sleek and shiny as I remember from last weekend. I’m sure Reid has a housekeeper that comes in regularly to clean his house. He’s more of the pay to have it done kinda guy.

  Inside the shower, I find body products that instantly grab my attention. They’re…girly. Giving the lid a quick flip, the entire shower is filled with a subtle vanilla and lilac fragrance. Are these for me? They’re clearly not for Reid since his expensive brand of body wash that I’ve only read about in fashion magazines is still on the shelf; right next to where this body wash sat. And not just body wash. There’s an expensive brand of feminine shampoo and conditioner on the shelf as well. And right next to that, a pink razor and moisturizing shaving gel.

  Reid must have purchased these products this week for me. I can’t fight the smile that threatens to take over my face at the thought of him thinking far enough ahead to grab shower products. Was this purchase done with only this weekend in mind or maybe longer? Could he be anticipating more weekend visits in our future?

  I dress quickly with a smile on my face and head down to join the boys in the kitchen. The first thing I hear when I reach the bottom of the stairs is the laughter spilling around the doorway. Whatever Reid is saying has Ryan in stitches. His laughter is contagious, I’ve always known that, but when I hear Reid laugh as well, the sound stops me in my tracks. I’ve seen Reid smile and I’ve heard his guarded laughter, but this is something different. Something deeper. Happier, even.

  Free.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask as I round the corner. When I my eyes focus on the sight before me, my own laughter bubbles up from deep within my gut.

  “Dad is messy, Mom,” Ryan says with more laughter.

  There isn’t one surface in the kitchen not covered with something. Pans, utensils, milk, and waffle batter is everywhere. And I mean everywhere. How it can be dripping from the ceiling and smeared in Ryan’s hair is beyond me.

  “What happened in here?” I ask, incredulously.

  “We’re making waffles,” Ryan says with a beaming smile.

  “I see that. Why is there more batter on the ceiling than in the waffle maker?” I ask, afraid to take further steps into the room for fear that I’ll bust my rear on the spilled ingredients.

  “Dad thought it would go quicker if we used the mixer to stir the milk and the waffle mix. I turned it on high and then it started flying everywhere,” Ryan says, while Reid looks on with a matching grin. The smudge of batter on his left cheek is downright adorable.

  I slowly make my way forward, mindful of the slippery batter covering every available surface, and approach my boys. “Why don’t you run into the bathroom and wash your face and hands, and I’ll whip up another batch of batter? Looks like you don’t have much left in this bowl,” I tell Ryan when I notice his batter bowl is all but empty.

  “But Dad and I wanted to surprise you with waffles,” Ryan says.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I was definitely surprised,” I reply through my laughter.

  Stripping off Ryan’s t-shirt, I watch as he carefully makes his way out of the kitchen and heads towards one of the downstairs bathrooms.

  “So, clearly that didn’t go the way I thought it would,” Reid says behind me. Turning around, a burst of laughter slips from my lips. “This isn’t funny,” Reid says, fighting his own smile, and trying to give me a stern, bossy look.

  “Oh, this is really funny.”

  Before I can say anymore, Reid grabs me and pulls me into his arms, slamming his lips down onto mine. Suddenly, the incident with the batter magically disappears from my mind. Reid’s tongue slides against the crease of my lips, begging for admission. And what’s a girl to do but oblige.

  Reid runs his hands up my neck and grips the sides of my face. He angles me upward slightly, giving him better access to devour my mouth his with own. I grip the back of his t-shirt, hanging on for dear life, while this man consumes me like a chocolate sundae. I don’t even care that Ryan could enter the room at any moment and find us making out like high schoolers. Right now, the only thing I can think about is the way this man makes me feel. Coveted. Captivated. Alive.

  I finally pull back a bit to catch my breath. Reid’s eyes are dark with want, his breathing labored and matching my own. It takes every ounce of control I possess not to hop up on the batter-covered counter and wrap my legs around his waist.

  “You look beautiful with waffle batter smeared on your cheek,” Reid says as he runs his thumb down my cheek and over my bottom lip. His touch causes an involuntary shutter to rake through my overheated body. Of course, the blush taking over my face doesn’t help any either.

  When Reid turns slightly to his right, I catch sight of white and start laughing all over again. “What’s so funny?” he asks with his arms still wrapped around me.

  “I don’t know how to say this, but you have waffle batter in your ear.” I try to keep a straight face, really I do, but I can’t. Laughter erupts all the way from my toes and tears suddenly fill my eyes.

  The corner of his mouth ticks just a bit, but he keeps a straight face. If it weren’t for the mischief and twinkle that suddenly fills his eyes, I would think he was upset at me for laughing. But there’s no anger when he attacks.

  Reid grabs my arm with one hand, swipes as much batter as he can from the counter with his other hand, and effectively smears it all over my face and hair. I scream, but am unable to get away from his assault as his grip on my arm tightens. It’s not painful, but it’s clear that I’m not escaping him anytime soon.

  “That was mean,” I mumble.

  “Now, you look edible,” he says moments before he claims my lips once more.

  “I need another shower,” I whisper against his lips.

  “What a coincidence. I happen to need a shower as well. Maybe we could save water and shower together,” he says, running his batter-covered hands through my hair.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Only for you, sweetheart,” he whispers. Reid places another brief kiss on my lips before pulling me towards the entryway of the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s wash all of this goo off of us and try for round two.”

  My eyebrows shoot skyward as I consider his words. “Not that kind of round two. Though, I like where your head is at, and that is definitely at the top of my list of favorite ways to enjoy round two. We need to try for round two of breakfast. Making a mess makes me hungry,” he says with a wink.

  He makes me hungry. Hungry for food, yes, but also for him. There’s something so very hot about a man who takes the time to cook with his child, makes the biggest mess ever to where the kitchen is left looking like the refrigerator exploded, and still looks adorable afterwards.

  This is just another one of those little moments that I want. I didn’t realize how deeply I craved them until they were dangled in front of my face like a carrot. Now I long to make more memories with this man and our son. I’m holding on tight to what could be, and I don’t want to let go.

  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let go.

  Chapter Twenty – The Past That Haunts Me

  Reid

  I pull into Dani’s driveway, the mood in the vehicle solemn and quiet. When it came time to load up the car and bring Dani and Ryan back to her house, everyone’s mood turned a little sour. I, for one, am fucking miserable. Like an inmate walking towards the electric chair, my legs are leaden and a weight sits squarely in the middle of my chest, making it damn near impossible to catch a deep breath.

  Ryan was uncharacteristically quiet the entire ride. Gone is the rambunctious, talkative little boy from earlier. This boy is forlorn and sad, as if he dreads going back to his day-to-day life.

  And that slices me right down the middle of the chest.

&n
bsp; “Come on, Ryan,” Dani says as she slips out of the passenger seat. Ryan all but drags his chin on the ground as he mopes up the walk and follows behind his mother towards the back door.

  “Hey, Ryan,” I start. When he turns around, I drop to my knees in front of him, anxious to do everything I can to put a smile back on his face. “I had a great time this weekend. I want to do it again very, very soon.”

  Ryan’s smile is wide as he drops his bag and throws his arms around my neck. “I want to do it again, too, Dad! Can I come over tomorrow?” he asks, his anxious eyes searching my face.

  “Not tomorrow, buddy. I have work to do, but I promise to come over when I’m done, okay? I’ll come over again every night I can, just like before. And if it works with my schedule and your mom’s, you can come spend the night again next weekend,” I tell my son.

  “I can’t wait,” he exclaims as Dani lets us in the house.

  “Drop your bag in the laundry room, and go get ready for bed,” Dani says to Ryan. His mood appears better now that I’ve reassured him that we’ll be spending more time together soon, but Dani’s appears just as gloomy as before.

  I help Ryan get ready for bed and let him read me a book about Michael Jordan that we found at a local bookstore. Tucking him into bed, I hear those four words that rock me to the core. “I love you, Dad,” Ryan says sleepily, his dark hair sweeping down a bit on his forehead.

  “I love you, too, Ry.” It’s automatic. Natural. Heartfelt. And I mean every word. I love him, and it’s the first time I’ve vocalized that emotion since I was a boy myself. As scary as it is to say, I feel no remorse. I don’t feel the gut-churning fear that I expected I would with saying those words. In fact, it felt quite the opposite. It felt good. As hard as I’ve fought it, Ryan and Dani have chiseled away at every carefully constructed wall I’ve erected around my heart.

  I find Dani in the living room, folding a load of towels that must have been in the dryer. “Is he out?” she asks, those crystal blue eyes full of some unspoken sentiment.

  “Yeah,” I say hoarsely, clearing my throat of the remaining emotion I carry from Ryan’s words.

  “Good. He’s had a long weekend,” she says without looking up at me.

  “Dani, what’s wrong?” I ask, taking a seat next to her on the couch.

  Her blue eyes find mine, and the sadness within them leaves me unsettled. I fear that I’m the cause of such sadness, and it instantly pisses me off. “What? Tell me,” I demand with a little more authority than I would have liked. I instantly try to calm myself down a bit and remind myself that I’m not in a boardroom, right now.

  “I had a great time this weekend, Reid,” Dani says as she sets the towels down on the floor. “Ryan had a great time. I’m so thankful that you’re willing to spend this kind of time with him, getting to know him, and letting him get to know you. It’s important to me that you two have a strong relationship.”

  “I get that, Dani. You’ve said that all along. And I’m happy to have this time with him. I’m enjoying the hell out of spending time together,” I say.

  “Good,” she whispers.

  “But?” I start, leaving the rest open-ended.

  “But, I just wonder how long this is going to last? How long before the newness wears off or you’re pulled back into the life you knew before we came along? I know you usually work crazy hours. I know you’re devoted to your work and the company, so when does that start to settle back into your routine, and where does that leave Ryan?” Dani’s eyes are torturous. She looks torn between saying what she needs to say, and fearing that I’ll run the other direction. But it’s her next words that strike the deepest. “Where does that leave me?” Her words are almost inaudible.

  I move before I even comprehend that I’m moving. I pull her into my lap and wrap my arms around her. “Dani, I can’t say where all of this is going to leave us. Yes, I tend to work crazy hours. Yes, I have taken some of that time off to spend with you and Ryan, and I’ll have to pick some of those back up at some point. But don’t ever doubt that my priorities have changed. Ryan. He’s my number one. For the first time in my adult life, I let something–someone–besides my work fill that number one spot. It’s going to take some getting used to on all of our parts, but I’m not going back to the man I was before. Ryan changed me. You changed me.”

  The words rush from my lips as if I fear I won’t be able to get them all out quick enough. Dani stares up at me with those big, blue eyes, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want to claim every part of her body, mind, and soul. I want more with her. While the thought of loving Ryan seems so natural now, the thought of loving Dani, and having the courage to let her love me back is terrifying. And it’s that fear that keeps holding me back.

  “I don’t know anything about you,” she whispers against my chest as I hold her tight.

  “You know all the important stuff,” I defend, knowing that she’s going to want to know things I’ve never told a soul. Tara and Steven. They’re the only ones who know how truly heartless I am, and how willing I am to bleed, how low I am willing to stoop, to get what I want.

  “What if it’s not enough?” she asks. I’m not surprised by her question. Shit, I’ve already acknowledged that it was coming. I just wish it didn’t.

  “What do you want to know?” I ask, afraid and nervous all at the same time.

  “I want to know who you are. I want to know who Reid Hunter is, and why he thinks he’s a heartless bastard.” Dani takes a deep breath but keeps those eyes trained right on me. “Unless this is nothing more than a few rolls in the hay. Then I guess I have no right to ask these things of you.”

  Gutted. Bleeding all over the fucking floor.

  “Dani, first off, as the mother of my son, you can ask any question you want. But as the woman in my life, you’ve earned the right to ask anything and everything and get the truth in return.” The shock on her face is evident.

  “That’s right, sweetheart. You’re the woman in my life. The only woman in my life. I’ve never had that, Dani. I’ve never really dated; had no desire to. But there has always been something different about you. From the very beginning when I found you crying in the dirt, you grabbed ahold of me and refused to let go.”

  I take a deep breath. “I’m bad at this shit,” I tell her. “I don’t talk about my feelings or where I come from.” Taking another deep breath, I decide to let Dani in and share my sordid past. The real Reid Hunter.

  “I grew up to a privileged family. With the help of his father, my grandfather started a casino when he was in his thirties, and shared it with his daughter, my mother. Even though she came from money, she fell in love with a nobody from the wrong side of the tracks. Now, before you start with the whole fairytale bullshit, there was nothing fairytale about it. My father instantly became obsessed with the business, doing everything he could to ensure he took over The Chameleon. He married my mother and instantly became the next in line to inherit one of the city’s most lucrative casinos.”

  Deep breath. “My father was always a heartless bastard. But it wasn’t as bad in the beginning. He ignored my mother, my sisters, and me, sure, but at least he would spend time with us every once in a while. At least he did until I was six.”

  I’m lost in the memories and pain of my past. My gut tightens almost painfully, like the fist of a boxer gripping and twisting my insides, knowing what I’m about to say. I’ve only spoken of it out loud once. A time that I chalk up to one of my infamous drunken moments with Steven where the weakness and torment finally grabbed ahold of me.

  “My twin sister, Reagan, loved the museum. My mom took Reagan, Tara, and me as much as we wanted. Tara was still pretty little, and I didn’t care what we did. I was happy just to be with my mom and sisters. And the museum was Reagan’s favorite place in the whole world, so I went readily every time it was her turn to pick.

  “On this rare day, my father decided to go with us. I remember him bitching and moaning the entire time about all of
the walking and about all of the shit he should have been doing instead of taking his family to the fucking children’s museum. Even at six, I was so pissed off at him. He was ruining the trip for all of us. Well, all of us but Reagan. She happily ignored our father, and continued to look over the exact same exhibits she’d already seen a hundred times. Each time, it was with the same excitement and enthusiasm as if it was her first time there. I envied her so much for that. Her ability to forget all the shit and just enjoy the moment of being there.

  “We were leaving when my father started in on me. He was upset about something stupid, taking it out on me. My mom was pushing the stroller behind us, and trying her best to intervene as much as she could. No one was paying attention to Reagan. Before we knew what happened, she ran out into the street, chasing a fucking butterfly. I didn’t see the car that hit her, but I heard it. I’ll never forget that sound. The screeching tires, the scream, the thud. It replays over and over again on some fucked up loop in my head. It has for twenty-four years. I’ll never forget that day. The day half of my heart died in the middle of a busy Las Vegas street.”

  I don’t even realize I have a tear on my cheek, not until Dani uses her finger to wipe it away. This is exactly why I never talk about Reagan. Hell, I never think about her. Because when I do, I can’t stop the emotions raging inside of me. Anger. Sadness. Despair. And more anger. Usually, a lot of anger.

  “I’m so sorry,” Dani whispers, her voice and eyes filled with concern and sorrow that mirror my own. I don’t see pity, which I’m thankful as hell for. I only see her sadness. Sadness for the little boy who lost his twin sister. Sadness for the man who can’t seem to let it go.

  “Thank you,” I finally whisper and mean it. “I wish that was all,” I tell her. The way she wiggles in my arms lets me know that she’s not prepared for any more. But that’s the thing: I wasn’t prepared for anymore shit, and it didn’t stop fate from laying it at my feet. So, I go on.

  “It was hell at our house. Mom cried all the time and Dad drank when he wasn’t at work. Tara was too little to really understand what was going on, so she just stayed back, oblivious to the self-destruction around her.” Deep breath.